An Air So Pure
Brendan Kelly
"An Air So Pure," French helmer Yves Angelo's first pic since "Colonel Chabert" in 1994, creates a unique universe via a striking mix of black humor, tragic drama and no small amount of sexual promiscuity. It loses some of its steam in the last half-hour, when the tall tale really begins to test viewers' suspension of disbelief and attention span, but the end result remains a mostly engrossing piece of work.
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Variety
“An Air So Pure,” French helmer Yves Angelo’s first pic since “Colonel Chabert” in 1994, creates a unique universe via a striking mix of black humor, tragic drama and no small amount of sexual promiscuity. It loses some of its steam in the last half-hour, when the tall tale really begins to test viewers’ suspension of disbelief and attention span, but the end result remains a mostly engrossing piece of work. Pic’s strength is aided in large part by a strong ensemble cast anchored by Gallic star Fabrice Luchini, who is never less than captivating as an enthusiastic misanthrope.

Pic will rep a breath of fresh air for viewers looking for upscale comic action and should elicit decent returns in France and other French-speaking territories. The U.S. will be a tougher market for this period story, but an enterprising smaller distrib could parlay good word of mouth into click business. After its world preem as the Montreal World Film Festival opener, pic bows in France and Quebec, via France Film, Sept. 3.

A doctor and a lawyer turn up on a deserted mountainside one day and offer to buy the property from a mysterious farmer, who owns all the surrounding land. Mr. Elmer (Jacques Boudet) and Dr. Boyer (Andre Dussollier) are able to take control of the startlingly beautiful rural spot, and they renovate the decaying chateau and turn it into a ritzy hotel/health spa.

Though not stated explicitly, yarn is clearly set somewhere in Europe during World War I. Wagons filled with wounded soldiers from the front appear nightly at the Palais, and Elmer and Boyer go to great lengths to try to make sure their other patients/guests never see the bloodied, dying men.

The opulent Old World chateau is inhabited by a highly eclectic bunch of characters from various European countries, with each seeming more eccentric than the next. Julie d’Espard (Marie Gillain) is friendly with Florent (Jean-Pierre Lorit), a dashing but quite ill fellow who pretends to be a wealthy count. Then there is Magnus (Luchini), who appears to be perfectly healthy, but is unrelentingly morose and potentially suicidal. Magnus is always sparring verbally with, and usually tormenting, Moss (Redjep Mitrovitsa), a young man who has an undisclosed disease that is ravaging his body and gradually robbing him of his eyesight.

Florent eventually admits to Julie that he is not really a count and that his small personal fortune is actually the result of his stealing from the bank where he used to work. He figures she will be shocked by this revelation, but, au contraire, it seems to turn Julie on, and she is soon making out with Florent on a bed covered with his stolen money.

Early on, people begin dying in mysterious fashion at the chateau. First comes the murder of an old jewel expert. Then a woman is gored by a furious bull running loose on the grounds. The next casualty is Florent, who passes away in the nearby woods. Police inspectors keep showing up at the hotel/hospice, and their snooping dismays many of the guests. Just before expiring, Florent handed over his loot for safekeeping to Julie, who is only too happy to hang on to the money. Soon enough, she too joins the murderous rampage at the manor when she is forced to kill a chambermaid who tries to make off with Florent’s dough.

The script by Angelo and Jean Cosmos, the same tandem behind “Colonel Chabert,” is based upon a singularly far-fetched conceit, and it is a testament to Angelo’s skills as a director that it is so easy to go with the flow of this almost surreal story. For the most part, the blend of absurdist lampooning and droll wit works nicely to create a surprisingly enjoyable meditation on death, disease and hypocrisy. As the corpses pile up, the pic comes dangerously close to straight-out farce, but the overall effect is funny, poignant and haunting.

Luchini sparkles as the ultra-caustic Magnus, an odd creature who writes daily letters to himself and dreams constantly of ending his life, and his nonstop barrage of cynical remarks provides many of the funniest moments in the movie. Rising Gallic talent Gillain is also very good, and very sexy, as the avaricious, hot-blooded Julie.

Not surprisingly, given Angelo’s background as a first-class cinematographer, lensing by Edward Klosinski and Denis Lenoir is top-notch, creating one sumptuous tableau after another. Joanna Bruzdowicz’s score is filled with ominous, moody orchestral numbers that effectively build a murder-mystery-type atmosphere.