Comedy by Quentin Dupieux, 1h07
It’s our dream. Get up from your chair in the middle of the room and tell the unfortunate actors your way of thinking. Yannick, he is not shy. After a quarter of an hour, he can’t take it anymore. The audience at the Bouffes Parisiens can’t believe it. On stage, the distribution remains baba. This parking attendant just wanted to be entertained. Suddenly, the intruder pulls out a revolver. Maybe they’ll finally listen to it like this, huh? Panic on the boards. With Yannick, Quentin Dupieux, not always so inspired, strikes. What a great evening! In the theatre, we don’t know. In any case, at the cinema, it had been a while since we had laughed so much. The fault lies essentially with the astonishing Raphaël Quenard, undoubtedly the greatest comic revelation since Bernard Menez. IN.
À lire aussiNotre critique de Yannick: un grand coup de théâtre
Film d’animation by Yuzuru Tachikawa, 1h49
A dive into troubled waters against a backdrop of geostrategic conflicts: the scenario is worthy of a James Bond, from which little detective Conan borrows only the bow tie and sense of humor. And for good reason: the investigator and high school student, prisoner in a child’s body, has nothing to envy to the British or American special agents – and does not fail to recall it. For this third installment of his adventures released in France (against 26 in Japan), Conan Edogawa is confronted with a mysterious submarine, which tries to infiltrate the Buoy of the Pacific, a sort of ultra-secure archipelago from which Europol ready to use its state-of-the-art software. This colorful and thrilling story finds a contemporary echo by raising the question of the generalization of facial recognition in our world. L.T.
Drama by Francesca Archibugi, 2h06
Melodrama is ladled in this long chronicle of an impeded love. Their vacation homes were neighbors, but their parents didn’t get along, so Marco and Luisa crossed paths throughout their lives without ever having an inappropriate gesture. The deaths are as violent as they are numerous, drowning, mountain accident, cancers in spades, with euthanasia as a bonus. The flashbacks go all over the place. The era is supposed to be indicated by various hair dyes (apparently, Bérénice Béjo didn’t want her to be aged too much). The coup de grace is dealt by an interminable night of poker. The now inevitable Pierfrancesco Favino carries all the weight in the world. Moretti plays the psychoanalyst with a nonchalance that translates what he thinks of the company. Drowsiness quickly wins over the viewer. Bird for bird, the film should have been titled “The Dodo” instead. IN.
