Her lover is dangerously sexy, tattooed, and sinewy. He calls her in the middle of the day for spontaneous trysts, sending her into a frenzy of trying on clothes and applying just the right amount of makeup, all in an effort to look desirable without looking as if she’s trying too hard. And when they’re finished and basking in the afterglow of their spirited cavorting, it’s clear in the cold, hard light of day—at least to us—that he’s mind-numbingly dull and they have zero in common.
Such is the harsh truth of the French drama “Simple Passion” from writer/director Danielle Arbid, based on the novel by Annie Ernaux (2022 NOBEL PRIZE IN LITTERATURE WINNER). Arbid approaches her graphic sex scenes in matter-of-fact fashion, with nothing romantic about the lighting or pacing, heightening the sense that this torrid affair is exactly that—a fling, a spark of a connection that couldn’t possibly last.
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But we know from the start that Helene (Laetitia Dosch), the 40ish divorcee at the center of “Simple Passion,” views it as so much more. She clings to these moments obsessively, replaying them in her mind, scheming to see this mysterious and elusive man to the detriment of everything else in her life. You want to grab her by the shoulders, look her in the eye, and tell her to snap out of it. She’s too old for such needy, teenage-girl nonsense, and he’s not worth the considerable energy she’s devoting to him. He’s actively boring—and that’s the point. But who he is isn’t as important as what he represents: a chance to be discovered anew for the first time in a long time, to feel beautiful and wanted again.
