No surprises there, perhaps, yet in truth it's considerably more nuanced than such a brief summarisation suggests. You have to hand it to the French. While the Americans busy themselves with writing history and upping the SFX ante ever higher, and the British Film Industry mires itself in a muddy pool of witless, exploitative mediocrity, the French are still capable of turning out these classy, almost effortlessly stylish pieces of quality cinema. No posturing, excessive bad language, sensationalism or catering to the basest of mentalities. The main characters don't even have a car between them.
Letters are hand-written and delivered in person.
Alice Et Martin is a contemporary slice of urbane drama, but in many ways its concerns and depiction of events could be taking place at any time during the last 50 years or more. Amongst all this, Juliette Binoche glides through the film with all her customary grace and poise. That iconic, porcelain face can convey so many things with the most minimal of expressions, her exquisitely-constructed features almost singularly designed to portray a complete range of emotion and internal conflict. For her, the role of Alice represents a fairly straightforward challenge, in that the psychological scars and torment are, this time, the reserve of others. She is once again flawless, perfectly capturing the essence of her part's multi-layered personality and deftly encapsulating the necessary qualities.