Maybe it's just the fact that French men do more for me than the standard Hollywood types, but what is it about French films and romance? There's a couple of French films I've (re-)watched recently that just haunt me for days on end. They get under my skin. Christophe Honoré is a usual suspect, who fills his films with throwaway looks and lines that send my heart all a-flutter, but Sur Mes Lèvres (aka Read My Lips) is another favourite.
Down to lazy broadcasting, I saw the film three times in the span of six months (on Dutch and Belgian telly) and every time I see it I enjoy it more and more. Emmanuelle Devos (she gets my cutie-patootie vote over Audrey Tautou any day) is Carla, a partially deaf secretary who hires Paul (Vincent Cassel), recently released from prison. Both ignored at work, they embark on some sort of illegal deal (her lip-reading comes in handy) and in the mean time there's electric chemistry between the two of them.
I find French films really interesting to watch because not a lot happens in them, usually. The plot is usually pretty thin, can be summed up in one sentence, and still it's a captivating 100 minutes.
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