Though denied a commercial theatrical release in the States (American indie fodder from Sundance now all but fills the old art house maw), this is a typically involving, if determinedly talky, pic from vet helmer Eric Rohmer. Known for his pointillist studies in manners & mores ‘francais,’ this late work tackles large political issues with a similar minimalist approach. In the years leading up to WWII, the last of the White Russians in Paris are struggling to maintain a presence just as the communist Popular Front comes to power and Stalin launches his deadliest internal purge back in the USSR. Rohmer keeps his focus on the wife of a Paris-based White Russian official as she watches for clues that might indicate just what side of the political fence this unflappably reasonable man leans toward. Or is he merely acting different parts for different situations? Rohmer’s filmmaking is all essentials now, but the gusts of dialogue & functional camera set-ups needn’t fool you. Rohmer remains an intensely visual artist with the easy mastery of the art that conceals art. Everyone is superb in their roles, but watch for Cyrielle Clair as a wealthy gossiping friend, she’s Parisian chic itself.
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