2 Days in Paris

Goldberg and Delpy fall in love; so does critic

DYLAN FERGUSON

May I have the reader’s permission to use the expression “life-affirming”? May I? Could I please, for the briefest instant, resort to that horrible hyphenated term, without you, beloved reader, gagging, groaning, vomiting violently, or, what is most likely, flipping to another page? You see, the reason I ask is I’ve just seen this wonderful film, 2 Days in Paris, and against my better literary intuition, I really want to use that expression to describe it.

Your silence is infuriating and discouraging, Reader. Perhaps I can describe the film and my reaction to it in a more roundabout way then.

To begin with, 2 Days in Paris is written, edited, produced, directed, scored by, and starring Julie Delpy. If I were to further add that her parents co-star, and that she sings on the soundtrack, the movie would probably strike you a shamelessly egotistical vanity project. If, perchance, based on that description the movie strikes you as a genuine and admirable auteur effort, you are not only too optimistic for modern cinema, you also happen to be correct.

To the plot outline! Delpy’s on-screen persona, Marion, is introduced to us on a train from Venice to Paris, lying next to her boyfriend Jack, played by the endlessly amusing Adam Goldberg. The two, we learn, live in New York, but are stopping by the City

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Directed by: Julie Delpy

♥♥♥♥ out of 5

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of Lights on their vacation because it is Marion’s hometown. She keeps an apartment there for such occasions, an apartment which happens to be directly above where her parents live and, apparently, within easy access of any number of Marion’s ex-boyfriends. Both these details are, of course, exasperating to Jack, who is nervous, jealous, possibly a hypochondriac, and bears as many chips as tattoos on both of his sulking shoulders.

We already know that Delpy is a talented screenwriter from her work on Richard Linklater’s Before Sunset (2004). If 2 Days in Paris sounds like a Linklater film without Linklater, it is probably because of the obvious comparison with that film, as well as its 1995 predecessor Before Sunrise, both of which, I might add, the newer one easily eclipses. Delpy’s dialogue is snappy and casual, but can easily and delicately, through a word misplaced or misunderstood, work itself up to crescendos of great emotion. Her surprising directing measures the pace with energy and tact.

A romantic comedy to the bone, most of 2 Days in Paris deals with Jack finding reasons to be uncomfortable (Marion’s gregarious, lecherous father provides plenty) and reasons to be jealous (Marion’s exes are artistic types with an annoyingly French lack of reserve) and Marion consequently trying to diffuse each crisis, while constantly creating new ones herself.

Because of the tittering, nervous nature of the insecurity-based romance, comparisons between 2 Days in Paris and the Woody Allen-Diane Keaton comedies of the ’70s are inevitable. And this is justified, as Delpy is, I’m sure, aware. Jack’s uncomfortable, neurotic Americanese anchors a film that purposefully riffs off of European classics (tips-of-the-hat to The Last Tango in Paris and M are made obvious, but it will take a trained eye to pick out the Breathless reference). All very “Woody-esque.”

But may I, dear reader, be bold enough to suggest that Julie Delpy actually outdoes early Woody, at least as the romance is concerned? Her characters are able to supersede their neuroses, or at least wield them to their advantage, and are capable of outwardly addressing and raging against what is bothering them, rather than curling up into a little corner of blathering self-pity.

Marion is unable to fatalistically accept things completely as they are, and there are a couple moments when she flares up into a great fury that is almost terrifying and possibly psychotic.

Marion and Jack are capable, at least fleetingly, of a state of mind other than complete self-absorption. This is what makes their love real, for there is love here — it’s just clouded because people are involved.

That the film is able to pull this off while maintaining a wrenchingly honest 21st-century perspective is to the great credit of the two phenomenal leads. The very talented Goldberg (“That Jewish Guy” in so many films, who finally gets a chance to shine) and Delpy endow their characters with such animate conviction, that, for me, after about 20 minutes of film, the third wall dissolved, and I felt like I was watching real people. That, dear Reader, is a thing most uncommon and very, very beautiful.

2 Days in Paris is the rarest of romantic comedies in that it actually achieves the goals of the genre. It is a masterpiece, absolutely heart-breaking, truthful, and life-affirming.

Aw, fuck.