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 | Me And My Sister (Les Soeurs Fachees) Director: Alexandra Leclure Rated: M Now Showing at Palace Nova Cinemas  'Les Soeurs Fachees' is a perfect example of the peripeteic film, juxtaposing the rising fortunes of one protagonist with the falling fortunes of another. Martine (Isabelle Huppert) lives an elegant and worldly life in Paris: her husband Pierre (Francois Berleand) is wealthy, her best friend Sophie (Brigitte Catallon) owns a fashionable art gallery, she is welcome at the most exclusive nightclubs. Her younger sister Louise (Catherine Frot), meanwhile, is a beautician in bourgeois Le Mans. When Louise - diffidently hoping to get a novel published - comes to stay with Martine in the big smoke, she appears awkward, shabby and hopelessly countrified next to her elegant sister. But Martine is not as serene as she appears: her marriage is breaking down and her relationship with her child is cold and distant. As Louise's dreams are fulfilled, Martine's facade cracks, revealing a desperately unhappy woman, who uses her anger and sharp tongue to keep at a distance those who threaten her much-prized calm. Huppert, as the tragic Martine, is superb: she gives a tightly controlled performance, which makes those moments when she lets fly - when she lashes out in frustration at her sister and best friend - all the more electrifying. Frot is fantastic as the sweet, generous sibling whose openness and guilelessness melt the icy reserve of the stuck-up rich denizens of Martine's milieu. The dinner-party scene, where an initially shy and awkward Louise charms Martine's circle - Sophie begins to smile in spite of herself, and the men are openly enchanted - rates among the best in the film. 'Les Soeurs Fachees' is a particularly well-observed film, particularly when it demonstrates the way that, even as adults, we revert to our old childish dynamics when we're with our siblings. The script is gently funny: the humour ranges from the subtle (the wonderful scene at the opera, where Louise's emotional response to the performance drives Martine wild with irritation) to the slapstick (Louise, nervously awaiting her interview with a publisher, repeatedly drops her bag). It's also genuinely moving in its portrayal of a complex, bittersweet familial relationship: it's not a sad film, but enough sadness lingers to prevent it from being joyous and uplifting. Writer/director Alexandra Leclure, ably assisted by her wonderful cast (and a pleasant score by Philippe Sarde) has crafted an engaging story from a simple and elegant premise.  | |
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