_Alice and the Mayor_ by Nicolas Pariser is hands down one of the best political films I have ever seen. It deals with policies and politics gently and humanely, in a dialectical manner, pitting the jaded long-time mayor of Lyon (Fabrice Luchini) against a novice, 30-year-old literature PhD (Anais Demoustier as Alice) who has been teaching philosophy overseas. The leftist mayor's instinct is to go for grand, inspirational speeches and projects; Alice, in contrast, hews to modesty and decency. The fresh perspectives she brings rejuvenate the mayor, and despite their differences they become best friends, platonic confidants. Together they navigate the early 21st century's realignment of political forces: the Right full of misguided convictions, the Left drowning in its platitudes, and the Greens paralyzed by their apocalyptic prophecies; all are wonderfully embodied in colorful supporting characters.
Luchini is in his element as the man of big, beautiful words, but secretly laboring through exhaustion; he is just going through the motion. Demoustier, in a Cesar-winning performance, makes Alice our surrogate in the whiplash world of city politics. Her reaction shots are priceless as she takes in the glamor but also the hubris, intrigues, professional jealousy, entrenched PR nonsense, and donor/politician hierarchies. Fielding calls late at night, being pulled this way and that (literally, as in the walking-and-talking epic "The West Wing," but by lackeys with far less conviction), the machine eventually wears her down -- even as she brings a spark back to the mayor's office. The denouement, with presidential implications, is classic French cinematic understatement.
As in his previous film _Le Grand Jeu_, director Pariser dramatizes the collision between politics and academia, but instead of a thriller, _Alice and the Mayor_ is a Rohmeresque meditation. Even the opening scene, a panoramic establishing shot, recalls the New Wave master (although Rohmer would have used static montages). I have never seen Lyon being photographed more beautifully. It is certainly better than _The Tree, The Mayor, and the Mediatheque_, also starring Luchini. In fact the film restores our faith in the humanity of those in power trying to make a difference.
Luchini is in his element as the man of big, beautiful words, but secretly laboring through exhaustion; he is just going through the motion. Demoustier, in a Cesar-winning performance, makes Alice our surrogate in the whiplash world of city politics. Her reaction shots are priceless as she takes in the glamor but also the hubris, intrigues, professional jealousy, entrenched PR nonsense, and donor/politician hierarchies. Fielding calls late at night, being pulled this way and that (literally, as in the walking-and-talking epic "The West Wing," but by lackeys with far less conviction), the machine eventually wears her down -- even as she brings a spark back to the mayor's office. The denouement, with presidential implications, is classic French cinematic understatement.
As in his previous film _Le Grand Jeu_, director Pariser dramatizes the collision between politics and academia, but instead of a thriller, _Alice and the Mayor_ is a Rohmeresque meditation. Even the opening scene, a panoramic establishing shot, recalls the New Wave master (although Rohmer would have used static montages). I have never seen Lyon being photographed more beautifully. It is certainly better than _The Tree, The Mayor, and the Mediatheque_, also starring Luchini. In fact the film restores our faith in the humanity of those in power trying to make a difference.