Cannes Dispatch – One Fine Morning

I have applauded the French for their singular contribution to the cinema of love. No other people, it seems to me, has the unique capacity to process human feelings with such precision and to translate those feelings in cinematic terms. This observation is further validated today by writer/director Mia Hansen-Løve’s latest feature ONE FINE MORNING, a film that contemplates adultery, mortality and happiness in ways that quietly surprise.

Premiering in the Directors’ Fortnight sidebar at Cannes, the relationship drama centers around Sandra (Léa Seydoux), a working single mom whose father Georg (Pascal Greggory) is fading away physically and mentally due to a neurodegenerative disease. While juggling her many tasks and caring for her ailing father, Sandra chances upon an old friend Clément (Melvil Poupaud), who’s now married and a parent himself. The two playfully pursue their unmistakable connection for a while before starting an affair that reignites something in both of them.

That might not sound like much of a plot summary but this is one of those movies where things kind of just happen, organically, seemingly without plan or structure. There’s no clear narrative arc, instead, the script simply keeps imagining where the events and conflicts could take the characters next and follows their journey. It’s an approach that can easily lead to clutter – and the film does feel at various points somewhat cluttered – but, with a confident lightness of touch, Hansen-Løve manages to distill from the apparent messiness something compelling and real. She makes you see and ultimately embrace the authentic mess embodied by the characters and by life itself.

ONE FINE MORNING radiates authenticity from the first frame to last. All the main characters are flawed, none of them entirely likable. They don’t always make good decisions and often succumb to their lesser instincts, in other words they’re just people trying their best to figure things out. Sandra, in particular, is a vividly drawn young woman struggling with the changes in her life. On the one hand, witnessing her father’s deteriorating health pains her greatly and reminds her of life’s transience. On the other hand, the affair with Clément reawakens passions in her she has thought long dead, even as it threatens to destroy another family. Sandra is free-spirited and kind, but also full of doubt, guilt-ridden and consumed by jealousy. Even without elaborate plot devices, it feels rewarding just to inhabit such an emotionally complex world for two hours.

I also love how the film treats Sandra’s actions completely without judgment. Yes, she is knowingly having sex with a married man, but this is never framed in conventional, misogyny-adjacent ways. Instead, we see two people negotiate a way of being together that would suit them best while carefully taking stock of their ever-changing feelings. Both are aware of the pain they’re causing, but also of the special connection they share which might be blossoming into something like love. It’s a process of give-and-take that is captured with striking honesty where I’m once again floored by the French catalogue of emotions that extends far beyond my vocabulary.

The same goes for the subject of death, which is also dealt with in an open, emotionally sophisticated, utterly unsentimental way. When Sandra and Clément are still trying to figure out their relationship, she once asks him to promise that, should she ever end up in a similar state as her father, he would take her to Switzerland to undergo euthanasia. It may not have been said completely in earnest but the sentiment behind it is clear, and I find myself quite moved by this stark notion of love. When it comes down to it, love isn’t just roses and chocolates. It’s whether you’re ready to do whatever it takes to save someone from a life of indignities.

Greggory and Poupaud are both very good in this but the film is really the showcase for Seydoux that she deserves. Intelligent and sensual, strong-willed and vulnerable, her portrayal of Sandra proves endlessly watchable. On a technical level, Denis Lenoir’s cinematography and editing by Marion Monnier are very strong, giving the film a clean look and brisk pace that make perfect sense. I haven’t been a fan of a film by Hansen-Løve since 2016’s THINGS TO COME, so this counts as a welcomed comeback that solidifies her place as one of France’s most talented (female) filmmakers. Can’t wait for what she does next.