Review by Tom Atkinson
Stars Catherine Deneuve, Gérard Depardieu, Fabrice Luchini, Karin Viard, Judith Godrèche, Jérémie Renier, Sergi López, Évelyne Dandry, Bruno Lochet, Elodie Frégé, Gautier About
Written by Pierre Barillet, Jean-Pierre Grédy & François Ozon
Certification UK 15 | US R
Runtime 103 minutes
Directed by François Ozon
As British cinemagoers, we’re a spoiled bunch. Not only do we have our own brilliant actors and industry, but we’re also sat in our metaphorical velvet flip-up chairs in-between the powerhouse of Hollywood and the excitement of European cinema, getting the best of just about everything.
Naturally, with our British reserve, we like to imagine that our prim little hearts don’t even skip a beat when switching between American blockbuster braindeath and philosophical French flicks, but when it comes to Potiche, it’s almost impossible to deny the utter "Frenchness" that floods every frame. For starters, director Ozon has managed to attract two absolute legends of French cinema to be his leads, with Deneuve starring as Suzanne Pujol (the titular Potiche, or trophy wife) and Depardieu as the local communist mayor (and former flame), Maurice Babin.
Then there’s the story itself. Based on a 1980s play, we follow Deneuve as she transforms herself from bored bourgeois housewife into the boss of her cheating husband’s ailing umbrella factory by overcoming striking workers who take her hubby hostage. Come on, it doesn’t get much more French than that. Not that any of this is a criticism, and the knowing use of cliché and stereotype is done with plenty of wink- wink humour that keeps you smiling, and along with some bluntly saucy 1970s style visual gags, there’s enough daftness about this to keep the rather dry backstory afloat.
In fact, the 1970s setting is perfectly observed, with huge hair to rival even Cheryl Cole and enough polyester to give any fire and safety officer a heart attack. The whole thing hits a high point when Deneuve and Depardieu, getting close as her husband recovers in hospital, hit a Saturday Night Fever- style light- up dancefloor and unleash a series of choreographed moves. No easy feat for a man of Depardieu’s current, er, stature. It’s no surprise, though, that Depardieu – and particularly Deneuve – make the film, with the famous beauty clearly enjoying the dignified power and grace of her role as the kept woman taking the chance to rise and shine among her dysfunctional family (and attract her fair share of lust).
The closest reference point is probably something like Wes Anderson’s Royal Tenenbaums, and while the finer points of that film may not have made the international divide, the same may be true here, with a native audience probably connecting more easily with every reference, nod and wink. Still, the star turns and sense of fun make it worth seeing, and with such a strong national flavour, you’ll feel like you’ve just stepped off the Eurostar.