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FOR CRYING OUT ALLOWED: PARIS

FOR PARENTS MAROONED WITH THEIR BABIES, STARVED OF THE CHANCE TO SEE EXCELLENT FILMS FOR MONTHS ON END, COMES FOR CRYING OUT ALLOWED. ONCE A MONTH, THE IFI WILL PUT ON A SPECIAL SCREENING FOR PARENTS-WITH BABIES.
Simply bring your bundle with you, park your buggy or pram with us, and enjoy the best film we have on that week. As the title suggests, there is no need to worry about the noise. Baby-changing facilities are provided, and we have a cafe for lunch afterwards. Babies must be 12 months or younger, and adults pay normal admission price. RESERVATIONS STRICTLY REQUIRED: 01-6795744

AUGUST SCREENING: PARIS

WITH A BRILLIANT FRENCH CAST HEADED BY JULIETTE BINOCHE AND ROMAIN DURIS AS SIBLINGS MENACED BY TERMINAL ILLNESS, AND THE PARISIAN BOULEVARDS AND BACKSTREETS LOOKING UTTERLY GLORIOUS IN WIDESCREEN, THIS EXPANSIVE ENSEMBLE DRAMA FROM CEDRIC KLAPISCH COULD HARDLY GO WRONG—AND IT DOESN’T.
Duris, who first shone in Klapisch’s 1996 charmer ‘When the Cat’s Away’, is on typically assured form as a cabaret dancer who’s just had some chastening news from the doctor, and spends his days peering from his apartment balcony at the bustling neighbourhood below. Binoche, dressed down for the occasion, also excels as a much-hassled social worker who puts her job on hold to care for him, finds family bonds renewed in these testing circumstances, but also takes a shine to kindly fruit stallholder Albert Dupontel—a man with troubles of his own. Meanwhile, across the street, history student Melanie Laurent finds herself pursued by her professor Fabrice Luchini, a cultural snob enjoying an unlikely lease of life after his father’s recent passing.
As one of Luchini’s lectures explains, the survival of a city depends on a continual process of renewal, and that’s played out on a personal level in the myriad subplots. If that results in a sort of classy soap opera, then the film’s none the worse for it, breezily put together, shifting effortlessly from comedy set-pieces to moments of disarming intimacy. Klapisch evidently loves his actors (understandably so), ensuring that everyone gets their party-piece, and though Binoche’s half-joking striptease is surprisingly sweet, Luchini’s faux-’60s dance moves to Wilson Pickett might just be the funniest thing you’ll see on screen this year.—Trevor Johnston.

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