It’s not uncommon for men in the films of Patrice Leconte to find themselves in some state of paralysis. As the hairdresser’s husband, Jean Rochefort was frozen in erotic love with his wife’s occupation. Here it’s the turn of William Faber (Fabrice Luchini) who is stunned by troubled Anna (Sandrine Bonnaire) when she mistakes the mild-mannered accountant for a psychiatrist. First enchanted then obsessed by the peculiar woman, he makes no effort to correct her presumption. Even when Anna realises that he is little more than a nosy professional, she continues to talk despite withering stares from William’s secretary, presumably comfortable with his ‘style’. Of course, this revelation is not the crux of Leconte’s film. His story is found at the edges of the canvas, doodles in the corner such as Anna’s relationship with her crippled husband and the sexual possibility she wields over William.
Intimate Strangers lies on a warm bed of wry humour, wit that lingers behind Luchini’s poker face. There’s a moment when he cranes not to get a better view of Anna’s cleavage although it’s patently clear he wants to. Cheap thrills are not required in Leconte’s films – they’re much more modest in scope and nature. Besides, he much more interested in what his characters want to know about each other rather than what they find out. It’s a beguiling theme that runs through his work from Ridicule to The Man On The Train; people whose needs might cause more shame if they were denied rather than embraced. Our fun lies in their journey of discovery.
// COLIN FRASER