Only God Sees Me

He [Bruno Podalydès] also knows how to incorporate the genuine flaws of his actors into his story, especially those of his brother Denis. Albert’s urge to vomit at key moments – he literally can’t contain his emotions when his love affair with Anna takes shape – is a genuine biographical fact. This curious pathology is one of the things that make Albert and Anna’s dinner a classic scene. It starts with the exotic location of the meeting, a Syldavian restaurant straight out of Hergé’s King Ottokar’s Sceptre, continues with Albert’s constant trips to the toilet, and ends with a bang when the lovers throw glasses of water in each other’s faces to declare their love. The result is the funniest vision of lovemaking we’ve seen in a long time. What makes the scene so funny and piquant is undoubtedly the presence of Jeanne Balibar in the role of the unsettling seductress, who exactly fits the slightly disturbing description of her given by Albert’s friend François (an outstanding Michel Vuillermoz). When this femme fatale appears, when she puts on her seductive voice, the film shifts into another dimension. We suddenly leave comedy behind and move into a deeper, more passionate register. Thanks to her, Albert abandons his unbearable adolescent lightness and takes on a male weightiness. (Vincent Ostria; Les Inrocks)