L'Auberge Espagnole

A Film Review by James Berardinelli
3 stars
France/Spain, 2002
U.S. Release Date: 5/16/03 (limited)
Running Length: 1:56
MPAA Classification: R (Profanity, sexual situations, brief nudity)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1

Cast: Romain Duris, Cécile De France, Judith Godrèche, Audrey Tautou, Kelly Reilly, Xavier De Guillebon, Kevin Bishop, Federico D'Anna, Christian Pagh, Cristina Brondo, Barnaby Metschurat
Director: Cédric Klapisch
Producer: Bruno Levy
Screenplay: Cédric Klapisch
Cinematography: Dominique Colin
Music: Kouz-1
U.S. Distributor: Fox Searchlight
In French, Spanish, and English with subtitles

L'Auberge Espagnole is French director Cédric Klapisch's third feature to receive U.S. distribution, following in the wake of his quasi-documentary When the Cat's Away and his acid comedy, Un Air de Famille. Like the previous two films, L'Auberge Espagnole is part comedy, part drama. However, unlike those pictures, this possesses a straightforward narrative. When the Cat's Away combined documentary and fictional elements and Un Air de Famille was based on a stage play (and retained some of the "staginess" on film).

L'Auberge Espagnole opens in modern-day France, where Xavier (Romain Duris) is in the process of deciding the shape that the rest of his life should take. On the advice of a friend of his father, he decides to spend a year in Spain, learning the language and taking some economics courses at a university in Barcelona. So, leaving behind his somewhat possessive girlfriend, Martine (Audrey Tautou), he goes abroad. Initially unable to find a place to live, he takes advantage of the generosity of a French neurosurgeon, Jean-Michel (Xavier De Guillebon), and his young wife, Anne-Sophie (Judith Godréche), who befriend him at the airport.

After a short time, Xavier moves into a cramped apartment already occupied by a variety of multi-national students. There's repressed Wendy (Kelly Reilly) and her loudmouth brother, William (Kevin Bishop), both from England. Isabelle (Cécile De France), a Belgian lesbian, becomes Xavier's best friend. Alessandro (Federico D'Anna) is from Italy, and Lars (Christian Pagh) and Soledad (Cristina Brondo) are a Danish/Spanish couple. After an awkward adjustment period, Xavier becomes part of this small, culturally diverse community. Meanwhile, he embarks upon an affair with the neglected Anne-Sophie while his long-distance relationship with Martine falls apart.

The idiomatic title L'Auberge Espagnole means, loosely translated, "Euro pudding" or "Spanish stew." This emphasizes one of the film's themes – that, in the "new Europe" of the EU, various countries with different cultures and often hostile histories must now compromise and interact. Barriers, both social and geographical, must become softer. This "melting pot" philosophy is common in North America, where few of the inhabitants are indigenous to the continent, but it represents a new twist to life in Europe.

For Xavier, his time spent in Spain is an opportunity for growth. His primary reason for the trip is to get a well-paying job, but, after staying in the apartment, he questions the values that have fueled his career ambitions. His unhealthy relationship with Martine withers on the vine, and he finds that there is often more value in a platonic friendship than in a sexual liaison. He bonds with people whom, if he had remained in France, he would never have met.

Klapisch has assembled an effective and winning ensemble cast. Romain Duris, a popular figure in France, brings a freshness and likeability to Xavier. Cécile De France, who won a César Award (Best Newcomer) for the role of Isabelle, is feisty and forceful. The scene in which Isabelle teaches Xavier the art of seducing a woman is one of L'Auberge Espagnole's comedic highlights. The beautiful Judith Godréche makes Anne-Sophie a fragile and needy woman. And Audrey Tautou, in the small (but crucial) part of Martine, comes across as bitchy and manipulative, barely recalling the wide-eyed innocence of Amelie.

Although the narrative is fairly traditional, Klapisch spices things up with some interesting camerawork. These stylistic quirks are enough to maintain an element of spontaneity, but do not go overboard to the extent that they call undue attention to themselves. There's a fine line between satisfying and excessive, and Klapisch stays on the right side of it. In the film's early scenes, the monotony and pointlessness of working in a stifling corporate environment is highlighted by the use of literal fast-forwarding (for example, characters are speeded up as they walk from office to office). During a key sequence near the end, when residents of the apartment are racing home to "save" one of their own from being discovered in a compromising position, Klapish employs fast cuts and split screens.

L'Auberge Espagnole is an enjoyable import – a lighthearted, good-natured motion picture that contains enough humor to leaven the tone and keep the drama from becoming too serious. Whenever Klapish presents a serious scene, he has a joke ready to punctuate things. (Such as Lars' reaction to the revelation that a past girlfriend has a surprise for him.) Not all the characters in the film are well developed, but those that are fleshed out make the overall experience rewarding. And the smiles, laughter, and chuckles that Klapish provides along the way don't hurt matters.

© 2003 James Berardinelli


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