Mingus, who like most men, would not care to discuss his and Marion’s sex life with her father, becomes more and more bewildered by Jeannot’s free-spirited inquiries into his daughter’s bed skills.
Nor is he a fan of Marion’s sister, Rose, whose proclivity for nudity rivals her thoughtless decision to bring Marion’s infantile ex-boyfriend Manu. What else is a brotha to do, other than lament to a cut-out cardboard of idol President Obama?
Uproarious family dinners and very New Yorker outings to Vietnamese massage parlors and trendy gyms creakily occur throughout a rapidly deteriorating set of emotional events that threaten to tear Mingus and Marion apart.
The film’s climax erupts so wonderfully that, faux pas be damned, Delpy’s manic portrayal comes off as one of the most endearing eccentrics since any one of Woody Allen’s beloved headcases. Instead of slipping into the familiar films serve up the same amount of lived-in coupledom that appeals to anyone who has ever been in a relationship.
The idiosyncratic dialogue, generously seasoned with small splashes of familiar irritation and reconciliatory coitus, is likely to tug on audience heartstrings.
Triple threat French filmmaker, writer and lead actress Julie Delpy knocks everything about the oft romanticized French culture of its cliché pedestal. Between the two of them, they have two children from past relationships gone sour.
As the film’s protagonists, Delpy and Chris Rock portray Marion and Mingus, a multicultural, interracial New York couple who have found love in a pretty hopeful place.
One is an experimental French photographer teetering on the edge of a big break, while the other, born in the U. of A., incessantly runs off at the mouth on what seems to be a popular radio show.
Mingus and Marion’s mirroring quirks become immediately apparent, their hipster lifestyles gelling seamlessly enough to warrant a swift, mixed-family shack-up after a mere six months of dating.
Only when Marion’s father and sister arrive from France to visit her does the proverbial Pandora’s box emerge.
All of Marion’s faux pas contained therein escape and seep into her rosy relationship.
Jeannot, Marion’s father, can only be described as the most jolly, pot-bellied elder south of the North Pole.
Still, one’s impulse to coo at his cherubic face and dotting ways comes almost as sporadically as does the hilarity of his sheer randiness.