Gabrielle (15)
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Everything in the belle époque life of Jean (Pascal Greggory) is immaculate, from his trimmed moustache to his tailored tweeds, and from the Paris townhouse where he hosts his popular society soirées to his wife of 10 years, Gabrielle (Isabelle Huppert, right). He married her because "she seemed so much the right sort", he says in his opening voice-over. "I love her as a collector loves his most prized item." Uh oh.
Sure enough, he comes home one day to a note on his wife's dressing table telling him that she's left him for another man. And no sooner has he read the Cher Jean letter than Gabrielle walks back through the door. She's made a mistake, she says, but the pristine shell of their hollow marriage has been cracked beyond repair.
Huppert is at her most blood-freezingly chilly in the title role, but Patrice Chéreau goes out of his way to make the film even colder. Based on "The Return", a Joseph Conrad short story, it's a series of long, meditative monologues, punctuated by some flashy directorial mucking about. Every so often, the film will flick from monochrome to colour and back, and captions will flash up on screen, as if Chéreau has been watching too much Quentin Tarantino.
The characters seem less like flesh and blood than like prized items in his collection.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments