‘Finally’ Review: Claude Lelouch’s Bizarre Male-Crisis Comedy Feels Like a Farewell

As a passionate admirer of Claude Lelouch and his illustrious career, I must say that “Finally” feels like a delightful, if somewhat chaotic, love letter to his own filmography. It’s akin to peeking into the mind of an old friend who has spent decades crafting stories and seeing the fragments of those tales scatter across the screen.

Five years ago, Claude Lelouch, the French writer-director, revisited the location of his most significant career triumph for the second time with “The Best Years of a Life,” an autumnal follow-up to his groundbreaking 1966 romance “A Man and a Woman.” This sequel, starring Jean-Louis Trintignant and Anouk Aimée, carried a sense of nostalgia in more ways than one – as it was their final onscreen performances. However, anyone who thought this might be Lelouch’s farewell to filmmaking was mistaken. He has directed three films since then, with his latest, “Finally,” being crafted in a way that seems to encapsulate his career as a whole, but not in a heavy or portentous manner. This quirky, lighthearted production jumps playfully between stories, viewpoints, time periods, and different interpretations of reality. It handles even serious, life-and-death matters with an almost comical levity.

At the Venice Film Festival, outside of competition, Louis Lelouch’s 51st film was shown, winning him a career achievement award. This film, intended for Lelouch’s most ardent fans, is an introspective work that some might find overly self-indulgent. It will be released in France on November 13, but may struggle to find audiences elsewhere. Devoted followers may enjoy deciphering the numerous inside jokes and references to Lelouch’s own body of work. However, those not familiar with his previous works might find themselves lost amidst the film’s dramatic shifts between slapstick comedy and tear-jerking melodrama, complete with musical interludes as promised in the opening credits, which bill the film as “a musical fable brought to life by Claude Lelouch.” If you find yourself wincing at these elements, it might be best to step away.

The film concludes by drawing connections to the characters, plotlines, and even musical motifs from the 1972 movie “Money Money Money” and the 1973 movie “Happy New Year,” both crime dramas starring Lino Ventura. These scenes are shown as flashbacks in the new film, though their relevance to the current story may only be apparent to the director. The main character, middle-aged lawyer Lino Cassaro (played by comedian Kad Merad), shares a name with the criminal protagonist from “Money Money Money.” It’s possible that LeLouch is making a self-referential statement about duality, but a more straightforward interpretation is that Cassaro is Ventura’s son, driven to uphold the law due to his father’s shady past.

Lino Jr., a prosperous lawyer married to the renowned actress Léa (Elsa Zylberstein), appears an unconventional choice to abandon it all and embark on a solo walking adventure across France. However, this spontaneous act is triggered by an enigmatic neurological condition linked to filmmaking, which inexplicably strips him of his ability to lie. This condition, as it unfolds, causes complications for both his career and marriage.

There’s a more serious neurological disorder at work here too, as we learn in the course of his episodic, golden-lit trek, which sees him bonding with various salt-of-the-earth folks along the way — notably a neglected, piano-playing farm wife (Françoise Gillard), who responds eagerly to his leading suggestion that she watch “The Bridges of Madison County.” Another subplot, rather abruptly shoehorned into proceedings, revolves around another “Money Money Money” descendant: Lino’s half-sister Sandrine (Sandrine Bonnaire), the daughter of an activist for sex workers’ rights (played by Nicole Courcel in the 1972 film), who has continued fighting her mother’s cause in the present day.

It’s a development that sits oddly amid all the film’s surrounding frippery, as do some haphazard Second World War flashbacks — set particularly oddly to a busy, jaunty jazz score by celebrated trumpeter Ibrahim Maalouf that may represent the film’s chief asset to non-aficionados of its director. More complementary to the film’s musical design is Lino’s passion for trumpet-playing, picked up along the way on his journey. This unfortunately enables multiple reprises of a grievously whimsical ballad of the romance between a horn and a piano, but does at least give us a memorably odd scene of our hero riffing away on his instrument at Le Mans on race day, as cars screech and zoom below.

In a style reminiscent of free association, editor Stéphane Mazalaigue uses abrupt shifts and sudden mood changes, yet the movie appears to struggle with its disjointedness. The cinematography by Maxine Heraud, digital in nature, fluctuates between heavily stylized filters and a raw, candid look, but fails to evoke the romanticism of classic Lelouch. Instead, it’s the recurring theme song, beautifully sung by Merad and Eurovision sensation Barbara Pravi (portraying Lino’s daughter), that captures the essence of the film during its poignant climax. The lyrics, “Life chases us, embraces us, replaces us,” echo the chaotic, puzzling nature of this movie – a sentiment mirrored in each and every scene.

2024-09-03 09:16

‘Finally’ Review: Claude Lelouch’s Bizarre Male-Crisis Comedy Feels Like a Farewell

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