My Sex Life... or How I Got Into an Argument (1996)

French Realism is like any other Realism, but longer. The Realist film-maker shoots "real people" in "real life". Here, in this film, there are some guys and girls, and they meet, talk, drink, eat, sleep, make love, wake up, walk, stop walking, look at something, walk past a traffic sign, light a cigarette next to a car, etc., etc. Maybe if you were a native of an entirely different culture you might find all this interesting, but my recommendation is to avoid the film and go out with your friends instead. Maybe film your evening on video and send it to Despleschin so he can re-edit it as "Ma Vie Sexuelle 2." The film is well made and well acted, but my 93-year-old grandmother is slightly more interesting and a bit less predictable. Sad to say, but this kind of film seems to be increasingly what is imported from France; films by youngish film-makers who suffer from that terrible narcissism: that people like them are endlessly fascinating and worth 3 hours of a stranger's time. In most cases this is sadly not so: my friends are much more interesting, my life is more real, and my thoughts are more profound. Not intrinsically, but just because I live them, I don't read them off a screen.

This movie was very, very boring. I can't really say it should have been edited down to two hours and then it would be better, because there isn't two hours worth of good movie material there. The actor who played Paul was good. Actually, all the actors and actresses seemed very realistic, but that's just not enough to make the movie interesting. If someone wants to make a movie, they ought to have a story to tell first. In Ma Vie Sexuelle, there was no story. Anyway, the atmosphere and the camera work was good. But the movie still stinks. I'd only recommend it to someone in prison who's watched every other movie in the world first. Or to someone I wanted to show what cool hair looks like...

James Joyce may have been the greatest writer of the 20th century, but his altar-ego, Stephen Dedalus, is one of literature's great bores, a self-regarding intellectual who gets so lost in a swamp of second-hand ideas he does not know how to live life, and where one line will do, will speak reams of dense, circular, allusive cant.Ditto his namesake Paul in this film, with whom we have the privilege of spending three hours, as he talks, makes a mess of his life, talks, makes a mess of his career, talks, makes a mess of his relationships, and talks. 173 minutes. Like Stephen, his problems with writing are linked to his problems with sex. This is a key film of the Young French Cinema, which favours the flat filming of dozens of bright charmless young things drinking coffee and talking about Wittgenstein. Great.

A fascinating look at a group of post-grad friends as they drink, fight and fall in love. Very philosophical men, very beautiful women (or is it vice versa?) ponder what it means to be in a relationship and approaching 30.