Set in contemporary Montreal and 1960s Paris, CAFE DE FLORE comprises two parallel tales: the first involving Antoine, a contemporary DJ (Kevin Parent), his ex-wife Carole (Helene Florent) and his current girlfriend Rose (Evelyne Brochu): the other set in the Sixties with a mother Jacqueline (Vanessa Paradis) trying to look after her son Laurent (Marrin Gerrier) who suffers from Downs Syndrome. At first it seems that the two stories are completely disparate: in the contemporary tale the main emphasis is on Antoine's desire to rid himself of past associations, yet finding it very difficult when his ex-wife believes that she is still attached to him: in the Sixties tale Jacqueline battles for her son's right to an education in the face of a world that is not just indifferent but actively prejudiced against her son. The only perceptible link between the tales seems to be the use of popular songs (such as "Café de Flore") and the repeated shot of an album cover of songs in praise of women that appears in both tales. As the film unfolds, however, so we understand how director Jean-Marc Vallée is preoccupied with the theme of obsession: both Jacqueline and Carole seem unnaturally attached to their nearest and dearest - so much so, in fact, that they find it increasingly difficult to let go. Jacqueline suffers acute feelings of jealousy when Laurent finds a girl friend Véronique (Alice DuBois), while Carole consults a medium (Emmanuelle Beaugrand- Champagne) to see whether there is anything in her past that might explain her feelings for Antoine. The dénouement reveals that there is more than just a tangential link between Jacqueline and Carole, which has a lot to do with the perpetual presence of the past within the present. Vallée's film has a disjointed narrative structure, with many fast cuts between scenes, as well as the introduction of short dream sequences comprised of bright colors. It takes a bit of getting used to, but at the end we understand that the director is trying to explore the psychological state of mind of his two principal female characters cinematically, as well as telling a story.
Whether the film works as a cohesive piece is a different matter. We understand the basic implications of the story by means of an (uncredited) narrator who sets the scene for the film, but she is never heard again after the first thirty minutes. As a screenwriter, Vallée does spring some pleasurable surprises - especially at the end, which is quite upbeat, in view of the subject-matter. He handles character extremely well: the delineations between the two central female protagonists are clearly identified, and extremely well defined by Paradis and Florent. But I was still left feeling that the visuals rather detracted from what was in essence a highly powerful story.
Whether the film works as a cohesive piece is a different matter. We understand the basic implications of the story by means of an (uncredited) narrator who sets the scene for the film, but she is never heard again after the first thirty minutes. As a screenwriter, Vallée does spring some pleasurable surprises - especially at the end, which is quite upbeat, in view of the subject-matter. He handles character extremely well: the delineations between the two central female protagonists are clearly identified, and extremely well defined by Paradis and Florent. But I was still left feeling that the visuals rather detracted from what was in essence a highly powerful story.