Annette ★★★½

This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

This review may contain spoilers.

Adam Driver is a startlingly literal presence in a film that often has a diaphanous quality about it — his explicit intentions, his sheer physical stature, which, even early on lends itself to a threatening fake-out scene, as he looms his large hands from behind Marion Cotillard. Cotillard, on the other hand, promises to haunt the man whose dangerous decline results in the tragic crux of the film. (This climactic scene is filmed on an incredible set piece.) Her ghostly presence carries on with their daughter Annette, who sings wistfully and miraculously and wordlessly until she gains the vocabulary, and the corporeal form, to stop her spiraling father in his tracks.

Shockingly unfunny for, what is on paper, a movie about a stand-up comedian with music by Sparks. Instead, I thought a lot about Carax's personal tragedy, which I believe was discussed more upon Holy Motors' release, and less so here, but maybe it's just something that will continue to loom in all his movies.

"You make films for dead people, but you show them to the living" — Leos Carax

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