Paris Can Wait
Directed by: Eleanor Coppola
Written by: Eleanor Coppola
Starring: Diane Lane, Arnaud Viard, Alec Baldwin, Elise Tielrooy
Comedy/Drama/Romance - 92 min Reviewed by Charlie Juhl on 18 May 2017
Written by: Eleanor Coppola
Starring: Diane Lane, Arnaud Viard, Alec Baldwin, Elise Tielrooy
Comedy/Drama/Romance - 92 min Reviewed by Charlie Juhl on 18 May 2017
I know the world considers French people and culture romantic, but are the men known as scavenging philanderers? I thought that was the Italians; just kidding. When the suave Jacques offers to drive American Anne all the way from Cannes to Paris, both Anne and her husband assume Jacques will at some point put the moves on. In Eleanor Coppola’s Paris Can Wait, some point means immediately, from when Michael is still in the car, all the way to Anne’s Paris apartment doorway. While the threat of persuasive adultery persistently hangs in the air, Paris Can Wait is more leisurely travelogue with the Frenchman pushing haute cuisine, living cheeses, and Roman architecture. The point of Paris Can Wait eludes me, but if you’re in the mood for a Rick Steves adventure in southern France rather than a film with plot and momentum, then perhaps Paris Can Wait will tittle your tastebuds for an hour and a half.
Anne (Diane Lane, Inside Out) plays tagalong at the Cannes Film Festival with her on the move movie producer husband, Michael (Alec Baldwin, The Boss Baby). The opening scenes watching Anne and Michael maneuver around a hotel room and a car ride to the airport make the point Anne is not Michael’s top priority. The phone demands obedience from Michael, he is expected in Budapest, and there is a crisis in Morocco. Anne is not the least bit upset to skip out playing second wheel and accepts Jacques’s offer to drive her the seven hours to Paris. Anne did not know seven hours would turn into two nights and three days.
Anne (Diane Lane, Inside Out) plays tagalong at the Cannes Film Festival with her on the move movie producer husband, Michael (Alec Baldwin, The Boss Baby). The opening scenes watching Anne and Michael maneuver around a hotel room and a car ride to the airport make the point Anne is not Michael’s top priority. The phone demands obedience from Michael, he is expected in Budapest, and there is a crisis in Morocco. Anne is not the least bit upset to skip out playing second wheel and accepts Jacques’s offer to drive her the seven hours to Paris. Anne did not know seven hours would turn into two nights and three days.
Jacques (Arnaud Viard) loves showering ladies with gifts they would never buy for themselves, like a seven course meal ordering just about everything on the menu because you shouldn’t miss anything. The Frenchman comes off pushy, but in a, “Who, me?” sort of way. Anne protests at the impulsive detours to ancient Roman ruins and roadside picnics, but not enough to deny herself the pleasure of good conversation and another bottle of wine. Anne probably knows full well Jacques is up to no good, but hey, this isn’t Anne’s first rodeo stiff-arming an amorous suitor.
Michael stares daggers at Jacques early on. He sees right through the charade of strawberries, sandwiches, and knick-knacks. Yet, Jacques also procured ear drops for Anne which she was dropping hints about for too long. Oops; Michael realizes he dropped the ball in husband territory and Jacques was only too ready to swoop in and assume his duties. The road trip takes breaks from staring at table tops and and Jacques’s Peugeot long enough for Michael to call and once again warn Anne that Jacques is…French.
Paris Can Wait feels like one of Steve Coogan and Rob Bryson’s Trip films if it was made by Woody Allen; not the humorous Woody, but the one who creates cinematic love letters to European cities. Eleanor Coppola obviously cherishes the French Riviera and Provence and using something you love as the subject for your first feature film is never a bad idea. Coppola, Francis’s wife, and now 81 years old, is not the oldest first time feature director ever, but 81 is an impressive age to start. I assume Coppola has attended the Cannes Film Festival for decades and finally realized all of her notes and observations might make for a road trip / opposites attract screenplay.
I have a hunch Jacques’s consistent counter to Anne’s protests with, “Well, We French…” and his suspicious excuses for not exactly paying for the extravagant hotels and meals will drive American audiences up the wall. While there is no central conflict swirling around the pair as they meander from meal to meal, we spend our time trying to unravel the Jacques mystery. Is he who he appears to be; an earnest Frenchman with a gluttonous heart of hedonism? Or is there something else lurking behind his friendly smile and cavalier attitude to time and appointments? At the end, I did not care too much to learn the answer. There is too little going on in Paris Can Wait to fret about or take interest in. It may even be considered a commercial for southern France; look how carefree Diane Lane is in Lyon and the countryside; don’t you want to book a ticket and have fun too? I hope Coppola is getting a kickback from the French Ministry of Tourism for this.
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