M, 94 minutes
4 Stars
Review by © Jane Freebury
A family lunch in the gardens of a fine house in the French countryside sets the stage in the opening scenes of this spirited, witty French comedy. It’s about a mature-age couple with family who have been together for decades yet still have some dramas to work through.
On this occasion, a birthday has brought three generations of the family together. The two adult sons, along with a pregnant wife and four granddaughters, and adult daughter are in attendance to celebrate with Annie (Sabine Azema) who is trim and attractive, and as calm and contained as her husband Francois (Andre Dussolier) is stern and disagreeable.
It doesn’t take long for the fault lines in the family to become exposed. Francois, a retired general, is an uptight conservative who can’t accept that one of his sons is a gentle marionettist, even though the other has followed in his footsteps. Nor can he help making it plain that it’s time a grandson arrived. The couple’s children wonder what their mum sees in him. Is he a great lay?
When the guests have fled, Francois retreats to the attic to clear some clutter. He discovers a bundle of old correspondence, ardent letters to his wife revealing a passionate affair with a certain Boris (Thierry Lhermitte). Annie eventually admits to it. Francois was away, she was as usual immersed in small children, someone had found her desirable nonetheless. But she loves her husband still and it happened 40 years ago. Francois sleeps in the study.
Spirited, cheeky comedy with something serious to say delivers the laughs
It is good to see these two lead actors, Dussolier and Azema, who complement each other so well, dominate the frame. And interesting to discover that Azema appeared in many films by the celebrated director, the late Alain Resnais, and became his wife.
As Francois digs in deeper, feeling keenly that he has lost face, he becomes a figure of fun. An unbending Gaullist, a lifelong patriot who owns a bust of Napoleon, an upright man who declares time and time again that he has never cheated. We just about believe him.
Revenge must be served, hot rather than cold, while Francois has his rival in his sights. Former army colleagues can’t be convinced to help him take revenge so he and Annie will have to go to Nice where Boris lives, identify and confront him with the dishonour man-to-man. An aging former hippie who used to play guitar will surely be no match for a former military man. Boris is not, however, as expected. He cycles around town and wears a black belt at his martial arts classes.
A unbending Gaullist has a rival from 40 years ago in his sights
Still not content to let bygones be bygones, Francois, is undeterred and the tone shifts to farce. But Francois’ decision to reconnect with a former lover of his own introduces another tonal shift. He finds her, in a ruefully tender moment. The points that writer-director Ivan Calberg makes about relationships are sharp and insightful and his ensemble of actors an asset to the production, which, at a crisp hour and half doesn’t outstay its welcome.
It is a changed world that the old republican, Francois, has yet to come to terms with. It’s not something a visit to a nudist beach will put to rights. A rush of social changes has made the world a place where women are independent, where young men can pursue their artistic talents and where young women are free to choose their sexual orientation. His daughter Capucine (Josephine de Meaux) has yet another revelation for him. There is still much to come to terms with for this representative of the traditional, conservative classes.
This terrific comedy replete with laugh-out-loud moments is a refreshing export from a country where the level of sexism can seem surprising, and where a president could take a mistress or two and expect to have the details of his private life discreetly hidden. Attitudes to infidelity seem to differ from our own.
Riviera Revenge will endear itself to women especially. It’s not that the title of this cheeky farce is misleading it’s just that the original French one works so much better. N’avoue jamais, translating to ‘never admit to anything’ casts a different slant on things and is a better fit with the closing revelations.
And, by the way, it did ever so well at the box office in France. They liked it too.
Published in the Canberra Times on 29 June 2025, and on Rotten Tomatoes