Educational Media Reviews Online

40 Love, a debut feature by Stéphane Demoustier which was co-produced by two-time Palme d’Or winners Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardennes, is, at its heart, a story about a family. It begins with paterfamilias Jérôme (Dardennes regular Olivier Gourmet) being dismissed from his job as a department store manager. The applause he receives from his staff on his way out the door and generous severance package he mentions lend credence to his explanation that the move is analogous to a sports team firing a moderately successful veteran head coach to bring on a promising up-and-comer, and at first it seems like he will quickly land on his feet again. He meets with a headhunter, who gives him a lead on a new job. Instead of following up, though, he announces plans to start his own business. His wife Laura’s (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi) worried reaction is our first indication that Jérôme may have bigger problems than unemployment.

It gradually emerges that while Jérôme, Laura, and their 11-year-old son Ugo (Charles Mérienne) may all be dwelling in the same house, they’re effectively living separate lives. It comes as little surprise when Laura announces that she’s leaving about a third of the way through the film; the remaining hour chronicles Jérôme’s attempts to balance his individual goals with Ugo’s needs as his son pursues an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to qualify for a national tennis training program at Roland Garros by winning a local championship.

There is a temptation to measure the film against the directorial work of the Dardennes brothers, but where their subject is people on the fringes of society, the style (the use of natural lighting and occasional over-the-shoulder shots of Jérôme invite the comparison, but otherwise it’s fairly conventional) and content of 40 Love is decidedly middle class. Even at Jérôme and Ugo’s lowest points, we never fear for their livelihood. What does seem to be in jeopardy is their ability to be happy. Jérôme sounds sincere when he waxes poetic about his love for retail, but his wistful descriptions of youthful athletic exploits suggest that he’s consumed by thoughts of what might have been. The central question of the film is whether or not he’s too caught up in his own drama to notice that his son has come to an inflection point of his own. Will Jérôme help Ugo avoid making the same mistakes he did, or has his bad example doomed Ugo to follow in his footsteps?

Matters come to a head around a monumentally poor decision which amplifies the theme of selfishness even further as Jérôme and Ugo attempt to cope with what has happened. That this feels like a crescendo, not a contrivance, is an impressive accomplishment for a first-time director. More scenes of Ugo and the other members of his tennis club training would have added another layer of distinctiveness; alternatively, Demoustier’s documentary short Les petits joueurs, which apparently explores this subject, might have been an ideal DVD extra. These are quibbles, though, and while the film is likely too obscure to be in much demand for film and cultural studies courses, it’s a remarkably assured debut which clearly has a place in any art house cinema collection.