The Dreamers

The fact which I am about to reveal should probably get me beaten up by proper, chin-stroking, pasty faced from lack of sunlight, real-life cinephiles: I don't like French films.

Sorry.

Well, there not all bad. I've liked Luc Besson's stuff, Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samuorai, the New Wave had some charm, Cyrano De Bergerac with Gerard Depardieu, Horseman on the Roof was enjoyable, Amelie is utterly charming, and there are probably a few others I'm blanking at the moment. However, on the whole, I don't think French films are my thing. When I was a student, and watching French films is supposed to be part and parcel of the student's film viewing, I would think there was something wrong with me because I didn't like them. All I could see was people smoking, having ridiculous and protracted conversations, and staring into the corners of their rooms, pretending to look philosophical.

When I was in the States for a while, I almost missed French films because they don't really get out there (people don't like to read their films in the US), but then I saw some when I got back to the UK, and realised it was just a delusion. So, you are probably wondering why I went to see The Dreamers. It was because a friend recommended it to me, saying, and I quote, "It's about films, but more pornographic." I'm an easy target.

The Dreamers is set in Paris in 1968, and is the story of an American who meets French twin brother and sister through their shared love of cinema. They get together, have protracted conversations, there is some sex (but not particularly pornographic, which makes me wonder if my friend has seen any porn), there is a lot of smoking of cigarettes, they wander around naked, and then the film ends. Just like that. I think I must be missing some subtext or something.

There is film referencing in the film, particularly the first half, which I enjoyed, and I even managed a smile at the joke about Jerry Lewis not being understood in the US. But, apart from that, I didn't get much enjoyment out of the film. It is well made, and the actors give interesting performances, but some parts seemed so contrived, I would be shaken out of the film, and I didn't care about the characters, and wouldn't have minded if unpleasant things had happened to them. I don't believe that I was supposed to think like that.

I'm not sure if this was a proper French film, with an Italian director, an American actor, and most of the dialogue being in English, but it felt enough like it at the end to make me believe I had just watched a French film. I am obviously not a bona fide film fan if I can't enjoy things like this, but I can't help the way I am. I will continue to write my film reviews and my thoughts, if just as an exercise in anthropology, even if I never get a French film.

Rating: DA