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Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Michelle Pfeiffer gives ‘French Exit’ its dose of glamour

Dan Webster

Above: Michelle Pfeiffer stars in "French Exit." (Photo/Sony Pictures)

Movie review: "French Exit," directed by Azazel Jacobs, starring Michelle Pfeiffer, Lucas Hadges, Valerie Mahaffey, Imogen Poots, Isaach De Bankolé, Tracy Letts. Streaming on various services.

Cinema has been graced with a number of films featuring strong women.

Not as many, clearly, as those in which women – even the strong ones – are made to be dependent on the men in their lives. But those self-possessed women characters that do exist are truly memorable.

In classic terms, there’s the showgirl Tira played by Mae West in 1933’s “I’m No Angel,” and Mame Dennis of “Auntie Mame,” played most famously in 1958 by Rosalind Russell. More recently, we can cite Sigourney Weaver’s Ellen Ripley in the “Alien” franchise and, even more prominently, the characters played respectively by Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon in 1991’s “Thelma & Louise.”

And lest we forget, think of the range of formidable characters that the great Bette Davis played, from Queen Elizabeth (twice) to Margo Channing in 1950’s “All About Eve” (and note the brief appearance of Marilyn Monroe) and Baby Jane Hudson in the 1967 shocker “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane”?

Michelle Pfeiffer hardly rates being mentioned in the same breath as Davis. Two-time Oscar winner Davis is so associated with early cinema history as to be nearly synonymous with it. Pfeiffer, three times an Oscar nominee, is known as much for her on-screen glamor as for her acting skills. But, quite frankly, she is merely one among the many talented performers of her generation.

Yet that glamor, even at age 63, is undeniable. And it’s on grand display in “French Exit,” a film directed by Azazel Jacobs and adapted from his own novel by the writer Patrick DeWitt.

Pfeiffer plays Frances Price, a woman in the vein of so many would-be aristocratic wannabes of cinema history. Think of Scarlett O’Hara as if she were treading the streets of contemporary New York – with maybe a touch of Oscar Wilde thrown in for good measure.

The O’Hara traits involve Frances’ careless way of life, which is little more than a quest for self-satisfaction. The Wilde traits involve what occurs when one sees life’s impending limitations and, likely as a consequence, becomes bored with life itself. Wilde, as you’ll recall, supposedly said just before he died, “This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. Either it goes or I do.”

If nothing else, Frances shares with Wilde a history of late-life financial difficulties, an acidic sense of humor and, ultimately, exile in France. Having lived for several years off her late husband’s money, Frances – when we first meet her – is informed that she is broke. Forced to sell everything, she transforms the proceeds to cash and moves to the Paris apartment of a generous friend (played by Susan Coyne).

Accompanying her is her 20-something son, Malcolm (played by Lucas Hedges), her companion since she pulled him out of school several years before. Oh, and there’s her cat – which, as we learn, bears the reincarnated soul of her long-departed hubby (voice provided by Tracy Letts).

The séance scenes involving the cat and a psychic (played by Danielle Macdonald) in particular give director Jacobs ample opportunities to display the film’s darkly wry humor. That tone extends to the film’s various subplots, from Malcolm’s inability to commit to the woman he loves (played by Imogen Poots) to the collection of characters who end up gathering in the apartment – a nosy neighbor (played by Valerie Mahaffey), a French private detective (played by Isaach De Bankolé) and Malcolm’s rival for his fiancée’s affections (played by Daniel di Tommaso).

Though at the center of all this, Frances fends off easy intimacy with sharp retorts and a wave of her cigarette – the kind of attitude she showed when she discovered her husband’s dead body and yet left for a weekend jaunt before informing the authorities. Her self-interest is measured by the dwindling stacks of euros that sit on a closet shelf. Once those stacks run out, Frances vows, she will, too.

Not that “French Exit” offers any actual answers to the varied themes that it explores. Neither Jacobs nor DeWitt, who adapted his own novel, has anything revealing to say about the value of Frances’ resolute self-regard, about Malcolm’s listless passivity, even about the morality of deciding to die just because you’re – well – bored. The film’s essence of quirk is just that and little more.

In the end, though, what Jacobs has the good sense to do is to never stray far from Frances. Which is a good thing, because this gives Pfeiffer the chance to, once again, remind us that she is both a capable actress and one of cinema’s great beauties.

Frances’ strength may be that she never strays from what she wants, but Pfeiffer’s is that she still has what it takes to light up the screen.

An edited version of this review was previously broadcast on Spokane Public Radio.