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the mystery is intriguing and the performances engrossing and the cinematography exquisite.

Franju is carefully slicing along the line where the concrete rigours of modern science intersect with the abstractions of youth, beauty and ephemerality.

The final act has multiple twists but by that time interest has waned

Mendes more veiled than unveiled and, at times, resembling the Virgin Mary, is wonderful, confused and tender.

Franju beautifully captures the style of his silent serial models with intertitles, irising and other archaic effects, while also using his camera in a thoroughly modern and personal manner.

The characters are like people whom someone let out of Tarantino's locked cellar.

Superficially Summer Hours is an examination of the emotional fallout from the death of a loved mother, but digging deeper reveals insightful comment on nostalgia, mortality, property and family.

Huppert is perfect - no trace of self-pity waters down the complicated emotions at work.

As a comedy of manners, it is exquisite.

Being French, the film has a certain charm, although its premise is flimsy.