Le Secret

Marie (Anne Coesens) has been married for more than 10 years. She has a two-year-old son and a decent husband (Michel Bompoli) and consistently breaks sales records at her job, flogging encyclopaedias. She's happy, she thinks. Or rather, she's not happy, but doesn't know why.

The only thing missing is rampant sex. Her husband has lost the hunger for it, but she has not. She meets a black American choreographer (Tony Todd) through her work, who is taking a sabbatical in Paris. "I do nothing," he says. "I never go out." She solves his problem by whipping off her top.

There is nothing wrong with this film, except predictability. The racial difference is not an issue and Marie's confusion appears understandable, as the marriage begins to crack. She is like an addict, who knows what she does is destructive and yet cannot stop.

The sexual encounters are realistic enough and Coesens does a great job faking it. The tedium sets in for two reasons, repetition and lack of interest. The choreographer is not a person, so much as a man who can't speak French, and Marie is quite boring, really.

Ultimately, affairs are a form of masochism. Watching one unfold is like seeing something die, slowly.