CIFF 2022 | ‘One Fine Morning’ review: A welcome addition to the arthouse slice-of-life canon
Mia Hansen-Løve’s intimate character study moves her one step closer to becoming one of her generation’s best writer-directors.
Melvil Poupaud, Camille Leban Martins, and Léa Seydoux in “One Fine Morning.” Photo courtesy of Les Films Pelleas.
French auteur Mia Hansen-Løve is quickly cementing her reputation as one of Europe’s finest when it comes to the art of the character study, and the art of making films that prove one can be both optimistic and realistic at the same time. Fresh off the back of 2021’s “Bergman Island,” Hansen-Løve returns with yet another soft-spoken rumination on the many facets of a relationship with the intimate, charming “One Fine Morning.”
“One Fine Morning” revolves around widowed single mother Sandra (Léa Seydoux giving it her all, as usual), profoundly capturing moments of both joy and tribulation as she raises her daughter Linn (Camille Leban Martins), falls in love with long-time friend Clément (Melvil Poupaud) despite him being married, and copes with the grief of watching her father Georg (Pascal Greggory) succumb to an incurable neurodegenerative disease. The film is composed of sun-kissed, wonderfully shot vignettes of Sandra’s life as she navigates the hurdles of approaching mid-life — working a steady job, caring for ailing parents, raising children, and finding (and re-discovering) love, while somehow not falling apart along the way.
Each of these narrative strands results in some wild variance in the film’s tone and mood from sequence to sequence, but this only adds to the authenticity of “One Fine Morning.” Hansen-Løve’s signature naturalistic screenwriting style allows for a holistic view of just one period of Sandra’s life. This is not a sweeping epic bound by traditional constructs like Freytag’s Triangle. Rather, “One Fine Morning” finds a kindred spirit in Mike Leigh’s “Meantime.” We never really get the sense of an ending in “One Fine Morning.” There are no neatly tied-up conclusions or miracle cures for strife, just scenes from a fraction of a life. But that only enhances Hansen-Løve’s success as an auteur focused on the ebb and flow of life itself; in both its banality and beauty.
While there is much to like about “One Fine Morning,” including some excellent set design and lighting, Hansen-Løve’s conception of the father-daughter relationship between Sandra and Georg forms the film’s highest points. Georg is a philosophy professor, much like Hansen-Løve’s own parents, and the intricate shifts in the nuances of Sandra’s connection with him are heartbreakingly realistic and undoubtedly drawn from her own life. There is no melodrama to be found here, reflecting an oft-underrepresented response to grief — simply accepting it quietly, and enjoying what little time one has left with a loved one who will soon be gone. The highlight of this subplot is a voiceover monologue delivered in Pascal Greggory’s quavering baritone — Georg describing the early days of his disease’s onset and feeling his lucidity start to crumble — as Sandra sorts through the countless books he has left behind. It’s a stealthy emotional punch to the gut that isn’t overplayed to squeeze out some tears from sentimental audience members; a remarkable show of restraint in an age where excessively dramatised pain still wins Oscars.
The only place where “One Fine Morning” really stumbles, and stumbles hard at that, is the characterisation of Clément as a freewheeling French playboy who ticks just about every box on the “Men Suck!” list. Sure, his inclusion isn’t necessarily out of place, given that sometimes life really does hand you clichéd romantic strife. But Clément pales in comparison to his outstandingly written counterparts, and even though Poupaud and Seydoux’s performances gamely attempt to lend this narrative strand some much-needed panache, it’s hard not to feel somehow cheated out of a decent romantic lead. Nonetheless, “One Fine Morning” is still a welcome addition to the arthouse slice-of-life canon, moving Hansen-Løve one step closer to becoming one of her generation’s best writer-directors.
