Richard Gere’s first film in 6 years is about the durability of love

Gere and Susan Sarandon play a pair enjoying a tryst in a lavish hotel room - though he isn’t enjoying it very much.

Susan Sarandon, Emma Roberts, and Luke Bracey in Maybe I Do

Maybe I Do (M)
In cinemas
★★★

Sam (William H. Macy) is in a cinema watching a black and white Scandinavian film and sobbing into his popcorn. Across the aisle Grace (Diane Keaton) hears his distress and goes to sit next to him; they leave the cinema together. Meanwhile in another part of town Monica (Susan Sarandon) and Howard (Richard Gere) are enjoying a tryst in a lavishly appointed hotel room, though Howard doesn’t seem to be enjoying it very much. And not far away Michelle (Emma Roberts, niece of Julia) and Allen (Australian Luke Bracey) are guests at the wedding of a friend; they’ve been living together as a couple for a while and Michelle is eager to take the next step but her attempt to catch the bride’s bouquet is thwarted by Allen who apparently doesn’t want to tie the knot just yet.

Richard Gere is elegantly jaded in Maybe I Do

It’s not hard to guess how these six characters are connected, but I won’t reveal the obvious links. Suffice to say that Michelle and Allen haven’t as yet met their respective parents and when they do, over a dinner party, the sparks fly.

Based on a play written by the film’s director, Michael Jacobs, this is a modest but amiable film that seems to be striving to make a statement about the durability, or otherwise, of love. The stage origins show most clearly in the long final act where there’s a lot of talk, some of it quite witty, about love and how long it lasts.

The performances in Maybe I Do are all sparkling, with Keaton reprising her Annie Hall persona, Sarandon wonderfully blowsy, Gere elegantly jaded and Macy bracingly neurotic. The young actors are excellent and while this film may contain few surprises it makes for perfectly pleasant viewing.

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Saint Omer (M)
In cinemas
★★★★

Winner of the Best First Feature at Venice last year, Saint Omer is an unusual courtroom drama based on a real case.

In November 2013, Fabienne Kanou drowned her baby daughter in the sea. The case became a cause celebre in France, partly because the mother, who was born in Senegal but was a long-time resident in France, was a very intelligent woman with a high IQ. Why did she murder her baby? She blamed evil forces, suggesting that witchcraft was involved, which was clearly nonsensical.

Documentary filmmaker Alice Diop became intrigued with the case and her first narrative feature probes the drama in considerable depth. The screenplay, which Diop wrote in collaboration with novelist Marie NDiaye and Amrita David, is substantially based on the transcripts of the trial, but not entirely.

Kanou, named Laurence Coly in the film and powerfully played by Guslagie Malanda, faces justice in the handsomely appointed courtroom in the small town of Saint-Omer, which is located between Lille and Calais.

Observing the trial is Rama (Kayije Kagame) who, like the accused woman, comes from Senegal and has an older white partner (Thomas de Pourquery).

Rama is a lecturer. We first meet her conducting a class on the Marguerite Duras screenplay for Alain Resnais’s Hiroshima mon amour (1959), specifically the scenes in which women who slept with Germans during the occupation have their heads shaved after the liberation. The link between these disgraced women and Laurence is clear enough.

Courtroom procedures in France differ greatly from those in this country; the presiding judge (Valerie Dreville) takes the lead in questioning the accused, sometimes posing questions that appear to have little relevance to the case, while the accused’s defence lawyer (Aurelia Petit) and prosecutor (Robert Cantarella) have lesser parts to play. Sitting in the courtroom throughout the trial, which lasts several days, is Laurent’s mother, Odile (Salima Kamate), yet another mother involved in the tragic, mysterious drama (the accused’s father is notably absent).

Laurent’s lover, Luc (Xavier Maley), father of the drowned baby, a middle-aged man with a wife and family, is present in court, but is of little help to Laurent. He reveals that his wife was unaware of Laurent’s very existence.

Much of the film’s power comes not from dialogue but from visual elements – the way the characters look at one another, the telling glances they exchange, the things that are left unsaid. Not surprisingly there’s an element of racism lingering not far below the surface of these scrupulously correct legal proceedings.

The film doesn’t provide answers, except to suggest that Laurence was mentally unhinged by the loveless relationship with Luc in which she was involved.

The lengthy film, with its long, static courtroom scenes, is surprisingly compelling. The links between Rama, the observer, and Laurent, the accused, are tellingly conveyed; Rama is pregnant but hasn’t communicated this to her mother with whom she clearly has a complicated relationship. Their scenes together are characterised by eloquent silences. The film also includes brief, tantalising flashbacks into the past of Rama and her mother, which explain a lot.

The performances are all very low-key and the powerfully intense atmosphere of the courtroom provides a potent backdrop throughout a thought-provoking, richly rewarding movie.

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Quant (M)
In cinemas
★★★½

Quant is a biography of Mary Quant who was a key figure of British fashion in the 60s and who is credited with inventing the mini-skirt.

Quant opened her first shop, Bazaar, on Kings Rd, Chelsea, in 1955 and quickly became successful. Supported by her lifelong partner, Alexander Plunket-Greene, Quant offered young working-class girls a new kind of fashion (before her, there were just stockings, not tights, we’re reminded).

The 60s in Britain were revolutionary, not just for fashion but also for music (The Beatles, The Rolling Stones) and also because women had access to the birth control pill. Quant’s colourful, innovative designs played an important role in the “swinging sixties” era.

“Free yourself, be yourself” was one of Quant’s maxims and she urged young women to be noticed, to feel sexy and to feel good.

The film consists of family photos, home movies and contemporary interviews. Quant comes across as a lively but rather shy personality.

An end title on the copy of the film seen by this reviewer claims that Quant is still alive at the age of 90, when in fact she died last month at her home in Surrey, England, aged 93.