Look at Me (Comme une Image)

Lolita Cassard (Marilou Berry, daughter of Josiane Balasko) is an aspiring classical singer constantly vying for the attention of her famous author/publisher father Étienne (cowriter Jean-Pierre Bacri). He calls Lolita 'my big girl,' insensitive to the implied criticism his endearment foists on his overweight daughter. The corruption of celebrity makes everyone around her suck up to her father until Lolita is fairly forced to scream "Look at Me." Laura: Director Agnès Jaoui ("The Taste of Others") and her cowriter husband Jean-Pierre Bacri have an acute sense of the human condition. "Look at Me" is a multi-layered look at how people act with one another, how their perceptions are so filtered through their own world view that they cannot see what is right in front of them. The power of fame is a heady and destructive brew that makes one man an egotistical monster who surrounds himself with subservient personalities. Jaoui and Bacri's central character grows into an understanding that allows her to walk away, finally beginning to believe in her own self worth. Before he is even on screen, Étienne's behavior is exemplified by a rude taxi driver who makes Lolita go on the defensive with his hostile, totally self-absorbed accusations. Lolita stops to pick up two others, a pretty young woman, Karine (Virginie Desarnauts), and the great man himself. They are on their way to the premiere of a movie based on Étienne's book and he is enough of a star in his own right that one of the ticket holders waiting in line outside, Sylvia Millet (cowriter/director Agnès Jaoui), is accused by her husband Pierre (Laurent Grévill, "The Good Thief") of being put into a trance when she spies him. Pierre is a published writer who, like Lolita, is beginning to doubt his career aspirations. The Millets are accompanied by Pierre's best friend, Félix (Serge Riaboukine, "Le Temps du loup"), another writer, and their publisher Édith (Michèle Moretti, "Who Killed Bambi?"). This group of outsiders begins to show their own dynamics when Sylvia asks Édith for their tickets and she claims to have given them to her already. Their evening ends on that note. What Jaoui has already told us that her own character does not know is that the idolizing singing student who has annoyed her by asking her to take on an amateur group is Étienne Cassard's daughter. Lolita and Sylvia begin a pas de deux that forms the vortex of this spiraling story. Lolita doubts anyone who pays her attention, except, ironically, for Sylvia, who changes her tune when she learns Lolita's identity. She continues to yearn for Mathieu (Julien Baumgartner), a young man who obviously has another girlfriend and is clearly using her, in spite of the attention of Sébastien (Keine Bouhiza), a young man whose initial gratefulness (Lolita helped him out when he was drunk) turns into genuine feelings. She clashes with her young stepmother Karine, who tactlessly obsesses over weight while she means well. It is Sylvia's disgust, not only at her own behavior but at how her 'connection' changes her husband's, that leads the two women to self discovery and a kind of freedom. Not only do Jaoui and Bacri excel at portraying their themes of power and self image, they have a great deal of fun with word play - pay attention to an exchange between Sylvia and Pierre in their car on their way to the Cassard's country home, where their words come a full, amusing circle. Jaoui injects visual clues to her characters as well - Lolita walking past a billboard featuring a buff model, Étienne playing chess while his abused and loyal assistant Vincent (Grégoire Oestermann, "Lucie Aubrac") slumbers beside him, Lolita wearing the sweater Karine talked her into buying on the way to meet Mathieu. Even Étienne's final insult to his daughter, his leaving her concert at her solo, has undertones, his writer's block cleared when his daughter's voice fills the room. The ensemble cast couldn't be better, from Bacri's rude, imperious manner to Jaoui's stubborn decency. Berry balances her hurt with her whining about it so that just as one begins to get annoyed with the character she becomes hopeful again, making one wish her the best. Keine Bouhiza is a good counterpoint to Berry, a nice guy whose niceness is held suspect. Virginie Desarnauts is also very good as a wife genuinely trying to connect with her stepdaughter while gradually letting us know she's aware of what mind games her husband plays. Jaoui leaves her audience with a punch, too. Her final scene is an exhilarating bit of rebellion, using the glorious music which has permeated her film. One can only hope we don't have to wait another five years for her next work. A-

Laura's Review: A-

Director Agnès Jaoui ("The Taste of Others") and her cowriter husband Jean-Pierre Bacri have an acute sense of the human condition. "Look at Me" is a multi-layered look at how people act with one another, how their perceptions are so filtered through their own world view that they cannot see what is right in front of them. The power of fame is a heady and destructive brew that makes one man an egotistical monster who surrounds himself with subservient personalities. Jaoui and Bacri's central character grows into an understanding that allows her to walk away, finally beginning to believe in her own self worth. Before he is even on screen, Étienne's behavior is exemplified by a rude taxi driver who makes Lolita go on the defensive with his hostile, totally self-absorbed accusations. Lolita stops to pick up two others, a pretty young woman, Karine (Virginie Desarnauts), and the great man himself. They are on their way to the premiere of a movie based on Étienne's book and he is enough of a star in his own right that one of the ticket holders waiting in line outside, Sylvia Millet (cowriter/director Agnès Jaoui), is accused by her husband Pierre (Laurent Grévill, "The Good Thief") of being put into a trance when she spies him. Pierre is a published writer who, like Lolita, is beginning to doubt his career aspirations. The Millets are accompanied by Pierre's best friend, Félix (Serge Riaboukine, "Le Temps du loup"), another writer, and their publisher Édith (Michèle Moretti, "Who Killed Bambi?"). This group of outsiders begins to show their own dynamics when Sylvia asks Édith for their tickets and she claims to have given them to her already. Their evening ends on that note. What Jaoui has already told us that her own character does not know is that the idolizing singing student who has annoyed her by asking her to take on an amateur group is Étienne Cassard's daughter. Lolita and Sylvia begin a pas de deux that forms the vortex of this spiraling story. Lolita doubts anyone who pays her attention, except, ironically, for Sylvia, who changes her tune when she learns Lolita's identity. She continues to yearn for Mathieu (Julien Baumgartner), a young man who obviously has another girlfriend and is clearly using her, in spite of the attention of Sébastien (Keine Bouhiza), a young man whose initial gratefulness (Lolita helped him out when he was drunk) turns into genuine feelings. She clashes with her young stepmother Karine, who tactlessly obsesses over weight while she means well. It is Sylvia's disgust, not only at her own behavior but at how her 'connection' changes her husband's, that leads the two women to self discovery and a kind of freedom. Not only do Jaoui and Bacri excel at portraying their themes of power and self image, they have a great deal of fun with word play - pay attention to an exchange between Sylvia and Pierre in their car on their way to the Cassard's country home, where their words come a full, amusing circle. Jaoui injects visual clues to her characters as well - Lolita walking past a billboard featuring a buff model, Étienne playing chess while his abused and loyal assistant Vincent (Grégoire Oestermann, "Lucie Aubrac") slumbers beside him, Lolita wearing the sweater Karine talked her into buying on the way to meet Mathieu. Even Étienne's final insult to his daughter, his leaving her concert at her solo, has undertones, his writer's block cleared when his daughter's voice fills the room. The ensemble cast couldn't be better, from Bacri's rude, imperious manner to Jaoui's stubborn decency. Berry balances her hurt with her whining about it so that just as one begins to get annoyed with the character she becomes hopeful again, making one wish her the best. Keine Bouhiza is a good counterpoint to Berry, a nice guy whose niceness is held suspect. Virginie Desarnauts is also very good as a wife genuinely trying to connect with her stepdaughter while gradually letting us know she's aware of what mind games her husband plays. Jaoui leaves her audience with a punch, too. Her final scene is an exhilarating bit of rebellion, using the glorious music which has permeated her film. One can only hope we don't have to wait another five years for her next work.

Robin's Review: DNS

DNS