MOVIE REVIEW : Eric Rohmer Tells a Wise, Humorous ‘Tale of Winter’

The French respect the quirky workings of the human heart more than any other people, and among the French filmmakers, the keenest observer may be Eric Rohmer, whose “A Tale of Winter” finds him at his scintillating best, never wiser or funnier. This time out he tackles that eternal question: What do women want from men?

In this instance, the second in his current cycle of “Tales of the Four Seasons,” the question proves especially thorny. In a prologue, we meet, at a beach during the summer, a pretty young woman, Felicie (Charlotte Very), who is caught up in a vacation romance with Charles (Frederic Van Dren Driessche), a man so handsome he is later described as looking like an actor in an after-shave commercial.

However, when it comes time for them to part, Felicie inadvertently gives him the wrong address and later realizes she can’t even recall his last name.

Cut to the present, five years hence. Felicie works as a Paris hairdresser, has an adorable daughter Elise (Ava Loraschi) by Charles and two men in love with her, her boss Maxence (Michel Voletti), heavy-set but good-looking, and Loic (Herve Furic), an even better-looking librarian.

A lesser director could not get away with a character like Felicie, who is blunt to the point of cruelty. (How very French it is of her to size up the men in her life as openly as if she were selecting produce at a market, determined to get the very best apple.)

Were Rohmer not so witty and compassionate in his admirably detached way, she would simply come across as a bitch, so hurtful is she in her directness to both men. The ability to get away with finding humor in cruelty as a proof of the absurdities of human behavior and life itself, however, is one of Rohmer’s special gifts.

Felicie at first chooses Maxence, who’s about to open a salon in Nevers, only to discover she can’t live with a man she doesn’t love but at the same time realizes Loic is not for her either because she believes he can too easily dominate her intellectually.

A simple prayer at the Nevers cathedral followed by attending a Paris production of Shakespeare’s “The Winter’s Tale,” with its startling climactic scene of a statue of Queen Hermione coming to life, finally confronts the impetuous, restless Felicie with the truth: Her heart in fact still belongs to the long-missing Charles.

Rohmer remains a master of conversation--who else would even think of attempting a long discourse on Shakespeare and Plato on the immortality of the soul, let alone get away with it? Yet he’s come a long way since “My Night at Maud’s” and “Claire’s Knee.” With cinematographer Luc Pages, who brings to the film a clear, natural light, he moves from interiors to exteriors, from city to city, with a flowing gracefulness.

As usual, Rohmer works magic with his generally unfamiliar casts, drawing from them more they perhaps realize they’re yielding. He keeps Very so amusing in her quixotic ways that she never seems merely a pain in the neck, which is crucial for the film to work. Like all Rohmer films, “A Tale of Winter” paradoxically at once seems precise yet spontaneous.

There is something touching about Rohmer, the most coolly contemporary of filmmakers, casting his lot with romanticism, suggesting that we need to be true to our hearts no matter what. The way in which Rohmer resolves Felicie’s dilemma most likely will allow most viewers to reflect that “A Tale of Winter” is, after all, only a movie, a comedy at that.

But those of us who’ve actually had experiences parallel to that of Felicie with Charles, incredible as that sounds, and who’ve come to view them as she does, know that Rohmer is telling us some important truths.

* MPAA rating: Unrated. Times guidelines: It contains adult themes too complex for young childre n. * ‘A Tale of Winter’

Charlotte Very: Felicie

Frederic Van Dren Driessche: Charles

Michel Voletti: Maxence

Herve Furic: Loic

Ava Loraschi: Elise

An MK2 Productions USA release of a Les Films du Losange production with the participation of Soficas-Investimage et Sofiarp and the cooperation of Canal +. Writer-director Eric Rohmer. Producer Margaret Menegoz. Cinematographer Maurice Giraud. Editor Mary Stephens. Costumes Pierre-Jean Larroque. Music Sebastien Erms. In French, with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour, 52 minutes.

* Exclusively at the Sunset 5, Sunset and Crescent Heights, West Hollywood. (213) 848-3500.