A Private Life

"Lilian" (Jodie Foster) is a professionally successful psychiatrist who is divorced from optomatrist "Gaby" (Daniel Auteuil) and who has a strained relationship with her son "Julien" (Vincent Lacoste) and her new grandson "Joe". One of her regulars called "Paula" (Virginie Efira) hasn't being showing up lately, but she is still very shocked when her daughter "Valérie" (Luàna Bajrami) calls her to explain that her mother had taken her own life. She goes to the funeral only to discover that her now widower husband "Simon" (Mathieu Amalric) blames her for her suicide. What could she possibly have had to do with it? Well "Valérie" is convinced that something is going on, and presents the doctor with a prescription covered in some enigmatic scribbles. A clue, perhaps? Shortly afterwards, "Lilian" interrupts a burglar in her plush Paris apartment and is soon convinced that the mini-disc that was stolen, pertaining to this deceased client, points to some sort of familial involvement - and possibly even murder! Her ex-husband is still quite keen on her, so together they now set about doing a bit of "Miss Marple"-ing, but at each turn their mystery appears to deepen. Meantime, she has had to deal with an unstoppable tendency to weep. She's a professional so would surely know if she had some deep rooted cause for this, so instead seeks out the help of hypnotherapist "Jessica" (Sophie Guillemin) who suggests that there was much more going on between her and her erstwhile patient. Still with me? What now ensues mixes a series of flashbacks with some far-fetched detective work and a great deal of rain to deliver something that's remarkably shallow. Barring Foster's obvious skill with the French tongue and Auteuil's striking resemblance to Tom Conti, I couldn't really find anything here to get my teeth into. The conclusion is explained and wrapped into one scene that gathers together the scraps of information we may have observed (or overlooked) throughout, but in a fashion that left me wanting to know just what the point of much of the film was. It's not that it's a vanity project for Foster, or director Rebecca Zlotowski, but it's got so little of substance it comes across as the former showing off a little of her linguistic legerdemain whilst everyone else, except possibly Guillemin, portrays undercooked characters with little to play for. Sorry, but I found this to be very disappointing.