Though happily married to his adoring wife, the bourgeois business executive Frédéric cannot banish from his mind the multitude of attractive Parisian women who pass him by every day. His flirtations and fantasies remain harmless until Chloe, a single and audacious old flame, shows up at his office.
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Third revisit: It's hard to make an objective rating w/ a film which meant so much to me during my early years as a cinephile. And it's one which still greatly shakes me. But this third time around, I believe I can see its limitations more clearly, despite its awe-inspiring, nearly total sense of catharsis.
The grand finale of Rohmer's Six Moral Tales: one of the best, the most direct, the most lively, the most engaging, the most rewarding. It also occurs to me that—unless I'm misremembering the previous five—this is the only one where the man opens up to his femme at the end instead of leaving his "epiphany" locked in voice-over. And in contrast to Rohmer's infamously urbane dialogue, he can hardly put it into words.
The moment of the dream-imagination, more properly rêverie, of the magnetic necklace with the various actresses-characters from the previous moralistes films is, and will always be, one of the most extraordinarily atypical moments of Rhomer's films, being, however, quite logical within his rambling and speculative organization of romantic. Almendros was the right accomplice for this (ir)realistic affective geometry.