French Film Festival — A–Z of films

That they make such a fascinating pair is down to Delaporte's spare but beautifully observed script, and the brilliantly understated performances by Clotilde Hesme and Gregory Gadebois.

The higher the emotions are supposed to be stacked, the less enjoyable and more obtuse the story becomes.

Movement is everywhere, from the shadows playing on the characters' faces to the grace with which they move through the city of Paris.

Claude Chabrol's formula remains intact. And unchanging.

Love, life, poetry, passion, sensitivity, all magnificently exalted in song – quite a lot of songs actually – for your cross-Channel delectation and savouring.

Dans Paris is about love – between brothers, father, girlfriends – and suicide... adding dollops of languor and a good deal of sex.

The film has a better narrative flow than their earlier movies, although some of the gags inevitably work better than others.

Whenever the three kids are together and, basically, bullshitting and fooling around the way teenage boys do, the film works like a charm.

Like the chocolate at its heart, Améris' film is sweet, a little indulgent and over all-too-quickly but leaves a lingering glow of happiness.

Vibrant, vulgar and pretty damn funny.

It’s clearly an earnest and (probably) autobiographical effort from Papineau, but there’s no refuge to be found amongst such details as the film blunders on for what seems like an eternity.