Isabelle Adjani driven by revenge -- driven by it for over two hours, before she finds out she has had the wrong driver all along. She flounces around as if out of whatever is the French equivalent of Erskine Caldwell, wears lots of outfits with ruffles and polka dots, cries on champagne, sucks her mother's breast -- in short, makes such a fool of herself that she was recompensed with whatever is the French equivalent of the Academy Award. The storytelling device of rotating narrators, no doubt preserved straight from the Sebastien Japrisot novel, is quite unusual on screen, but also quite unnecessary. Directed by Jean Becker. (1983) — Duncan Shepherd
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