Little White Lies Review

• 8th Apr 2011

The Ocean’s Eleven of French cinema seems to lack the charm which brought its American equal such success. Unlike the daring near-dozen, all of the characters in Little White Lies are quite repugnant in their own deluded ways: whether they’re kidding themselves into ‘happiness’ or taking an axe to some weasels, each of these misanthropes is in danger of seeing their ‘little white lies’ turn into one giant, inexorable lie explosion. It could get messy.  So, what better situation to find them all in than an isolated holiday resort following the near fatal injury of their dear friend Ludo. An event which has plunged them all into their own respective emotional disarrays (if only they were honest enough to admit it to themselves – and each other). A recipe for emotional disaster if ever there were one.

As promised by the title credits, each of the characters deliver a startlingly lifelike performance (if slightly larger than life from time to time), and it is really this which carries the film across its two and a half hour journey, since I fear subtitles can never do justice to a screenplay of another language and there is little in the way of special effects or set pieces. The star turn of the show must be Marion Cotillard who delivers a wonderful range of emotion with flawless and often very fast transition time frames, although notable is the performance of Pascale Arbillot for her amazing subtlety and ‘trapped butterfly’ aura. Of course each of the actors deliver some fine moments but none of the others could make the leap from screen to real life with the same conviction as these two ladies.

There is one more character which deserves at least a small mention: the absolutely beautiful location (most of the film was shot in the stunning up-market holiday resort Cap Ferret, the perfect backdrop for deception). Sun-kissed beaches and fresh cut grass (eventually) are the perfect disguises for hidden angst and the continuous lies flow as freely as the wine in this Mediterranean paradise. From time to time Mother Earth fights back and forces the happy breed to face their own true nature, whether through trapping them indoors on a rainy day or stranding them on a boat at low tide (and stealing their swimming shorts as part of the mix). In the end, it is nature which forces them to look to the truth of the matter as Ludo dies alone in a Paris hospital. Such was the extent of their dishonesty that each of the characters managed to delude themselves about their friend’s injury, casually abandoning him to death whilst they flounce off on their holiday.

Whilst the coming-to-terms-with-self/funeral montage which ends the film is something of a tear jerker, this film isn’t kidding itself into heaviness – for the most part it is a light drama, the likes of which you would find in a Richard Curtis film were it made in England. Perhaps this is the only part of the film which is true to itself throughout.  In true Little White Lies form, this is definitely one to enjoy on a cosy evening in with many a glass of wine to hand and the company of someone close. Just make sure you tie up all loose ends before viewing.

Dani Singer