Cast: Virginie Ledoyen, Mathieu Demy, Valérie Bonneton, Jacques Bonnaffé, Frédéric Gorny, Denis Podalydès
Directors: Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau
Producers: Cyriac Auriol, Pauline Duhault
Screenplay: Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau
Cinematography: Matthieu Poirot-Delpech
Music: Philippe Miller
Lyrics: Jacques Martineau
U.S. Distributor: Strand Releasing
In French with subtitles
Over the past 15 years, there have been a number of dramas about AIDS - everything from the searing Savage Nights to the mainstream Philadelphia. These films have come in all flavors, from gritty independent features to high-profile Hollywood weepers, but this is the first time the subject matter has been used as the foundation of a musical. Jeanne and the Perfect Guy takes this unlikely premise and transforms it into the fuel for an irreverent, enjoyable, and completely unexpected motion picture experience that uses a throwback genre to tackle contemporary issues.
At first glance, Jeanne and the Perfect Guy appears to be a relatively traditional French melodrama - well acted and intelligently written, but nothing special. Then a group of janitors breaks into song and the cinematic landscape has changed. Approximately 50% of this movie is told through its music, with a significant portion of the dialogue being presented in the lyrics. There are no big production numbers (although there are scenes when the characters stop what they're doing to engage in a little choreographed dancing). Rather, the approach is largely understated and recalls Jacques Demy's The Umbrellas of Cherbourg in spirit if not in subject matter or tone. (The presence of Demy's son, Mathieu, as one of the leads underscores the connection.)
Jeanne (Virginie Ledoyen) is a sexually promiscuous young woman. By days, she toils as a receptionist at a travel agency; by nights, she plays musical beds with her many lovers, one of which is a supervisor at work (portrayed as a self-centered cad by Frédéric Gorny). Even her sister, Sophie (Valérie Bonneton), thinks she's a slut. But Jeanne is simply looking for Mr. Right - someone she's not sure really exists. Then, one Sunday morning on a train, she locks eyes with Olivier (Mathieu Demy), and it's love at first sight. The two are so drawn to each other that, once the car has emptied, they have sex there and then. Jeanne has found her perfect man, but there's a problem: Olivier is HIV+ (acquired from his days as a heroin user), and the AIDS virus is already taking its toll on his health. By entering into a relationship with him, Jeanne risks the inevitable pain of a permanent separation - but she is powerless to control her feelings for Olivier. And, although he feels terrible guilt for subjecting her to such an unfair ordeal, he cannot deny the strength of the attraction.
Presenting Jeanne and the Perfect Guy as a musical gives the film a fresh perspective (the story alone certainly isn't unique). Co-directors Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau, making their motion picture debuts, sail smoothly through potentially treacherous waters. Done incorrectly, this movie could have turned into an awkward experience, but Ducastel and Martineau are in control of the material. The movie is also characterized by genuine emotional depth and the refreshingly open attitude that the French have towards sexuality. One of the best scenes features a naked Jeanne and Olivier in bed, singing heartfelt (and somewhat bittersweet) endearments to each other.
Demy is a perfectly capable actor, but he is outshone by Virginie Ledoyen, whose screen presence is blindingly intense. Not only is Ledoyen easily one of the most sensual and beautiful women in today's acting profession, but she is extraordinarily talented. As in her breakthrough role - the lead in Benoit Jacquot's A Single Girl - she emotes with her features and body language as well as through her dialogue. Even though her singing voice is dubbed, she fares well in a musical setting. Few performers working in the '90s can come close to matching Ledoyen for star wattage.
Jeanne and the Perfect Guy is not a perfect movie. The final cut is a little unpolished, but the compensation for this is a raw, infectious energy, and, as offbeat fare, it's difficult to beat. In addition to its obvious attractions of Ledoyen and the musical framework, the production also avoids the staples of Hollywood versions of this story - mawkish sentimentality and a tearful finale. In fact, the last scene in Jeanne and the Perfect Guy is peerless in its insight into human nature. Even for those who don't consider themselves to be fans of musicals, there's plenty about this movie to applaud.
© 1999 James Berardinelli