There have to be easier things than penetrating this movie, like climbing Everest on skis, knitting steam, or convincing Jeremy Corbyn he's a dork. I COULD start by saying that Juliette Binoche is brilliant. There's no answer to that except so what else is new; Binoche is always brilliant. Brilliant is what she does. This is a film of silences. In fact there are more silences here than in the Collected Plays of Harold Pinter; Volumes 1 - 3. It's clearly aimed at the heart of the Academic- Pseud axis because you can speculate what the hell it's about till the cows come home and like all classics of the genre it poses more questions than it answers like where has the girlfriend of the missing son come from, how can she afford to stay indefinitely in the house with no visible means of support and, perhaps crucially, what actually happened the previous summer between her and the son. You could speculate on any or all of this or you could wallow in the sumptuous photography/scenery and Binoche's tour de force or, alternatively, you could play a game of chess in your head. Either way it's a hundred minutes you'll never see again.
Review of L'attesa
