It’s all a bit too trite, a bit too pat. The characters a bit thin. The plot never really bites down. The setup is great but the rest just kind of rambles to conclusion. It’s a shame because it’s absolutely beautiful and the premise really is good.

france, 1938, french


Hôtel du Nord

This film is a great example of why I would never be comfortable entering into a suicide pact with anyone. I mean, you know, besides all the other obvious reasons. But yeah, I just don’t think I’m trusting enough. There’s something so unbelievably perverse about the idea of one of the two people dying and the other not.

Being first is no good, because how do you know the other person followed through. But being second is also not great, because man that’s a lot of pressure. And what if something happens, like in this film, that prevents you from following through. After the energy of the moment passes, it seems impossible to generate that same momentum again on your own.

In that sense I really felt for the male half of the suicidal lovers duo here. I am not at all surprised he doesn’t jump in front of a train, and I don’t think he’s a coward at all. Killing yourself in the heat of love is one thing, but to do it days later, after watching your loved one die and then being forced to run? No way.

Of course, if you are feeling sorry for yourself, going to prison for attempted murder is probably a good, if incredibly unpleasant, way to atone. You can flog yourself to acceptance. And, of course, in this film acceptance comes along anyway.