L'ami de mon amie (Boyfriends and Girlfriends)

The protagonist in this return by Rohmer to a more classical form is an introverted, idealistic young woman, Blanche (Emmanuelle Chaulet), who settles in the Parisian satellite town of Cergy-Pontoise. She works at the local cultural department and escapes her loneliness thanks to a chance encounter with the vivacious Léa (Sophie Renoir). Although Blanche is not sporty and afraid of water, she allows herself to be swept along to the swimming pool, where she becomes fascinated by Alexandre (François-Eric Gendron), a married engineer with a flirtatious air. When Léa goes on holiday, Blanche grows ever closer to Fabien (Eric Viellard), Léa’s boyfriend. Their shared passion for windsurfing brings them closer together, but at the same time causes Blanche to feel increasingly guilty. The feather-light plot unfolds like a carefully constructed chassé-croisé, with the viewer quickly sensing where the symmetrical structure is leading.

The film’s strength lies less in its surprises than in the natural performances and the subtle observation of human relationships. As is often the case with Rohmer, little seems to happen: through dialogue, glances and small gestures, he reveals psychological nuances and moral irony. The tension arises from the confrontation between the sublime and the banal, a central theme in his work.

Also striking is the strong interweaving of characters and setting. Rarely has this interplay been as dominant as in L’Ami de mon amie. The actions of the quartet are partly shaped by the backdrop of Cergy-Pontoise, an artificial, new town on the outskirts of Paris, designed by the neoclassical architect Ricardo Bofill. The film, incidentally, opens with a montage of every possible angle of this heavily criticised new-build project. The clean lines and geometry of the architecture contrast with the chaotic emotions of the characters, who only find peace in nature.

Without any sociological pretensions, Rohmer observes how people function within such a constructed space. Squares, walking routes and recreational areas form a stage for chance encounters. At the same time, the characters seem like guinea pigs in a concrete laboratory – which betrays Rohmer’s somewhat reactionary view of modern architecture. Through his visual compositions and the placement of the characters in this new city, which, incidentally, resembles a small village, the postmodern environment takes on a dominant role. Visually, the film plays with colour and composition in a sophisticated manner: blue and green dominate the palette, with the occasional touch of red as an accent. At times, green and blue costumes and similar architectural elements even seem to engage in a dialogue with one another.

This visual intelligence underscores the fact that Rohmer’s cinema, however simple it may seem, conceals great cinematic refinement. For enthusiasts, L’Ami de mon ami therefore offers irresistibly charming cinema.

- Patrick Duynslaegher