You could call it aimlessness, or disaffection, but I prefer apathy when looking at Jeanne, the heroine–or at least the lead actress–in "The Girl on the Train," a mostly interesting French film that includes a true Paris incident of six years ago, when a young woman told police she had been attacked by a group of men who spouted anti-Semitic slogans, only to recant her charges a few days later, admitting she lied.
Jeanne, played in the grip of solitude by Emilie DeQuenne, rollerblades through Paris, no more noticeable than a traffic signal. She lives with her mother, Louise, the always gorgeous Catherine Denueve, who earns her keep taking care of a group of toddlers. Jeanne reads the help-wanted ads, answers one for a high-powered attorney who once knew (loved? had an affair with?) her mother, is totally unqualified for any job in his office. She meets and is seduced by a young wrestler, Franck (Nicolas Duvauchelle), moves in with him. Much later, when Franck is being questioned by the police in a crime investigation, he gives us a clue to Jeanne. "We never fought," he says, "She never said no to anything I asked of her."
Yes, it's Jeanne who copies the "crime," and the high-powered Jewish attorney, beautifully portrayed by Michel Blanc, gets involved. And we meet his family, his Orthodox daughter-in-law (Renit Elkabetz), her disaffected husband (Mathieu Demy) and their son, Nathan (Jeremy Quaegebeur), about to be Bar Mitzvah. There's an oh-so-brief encounter between him and Jeanne that shows evidence of a lovely love story, and we viewers can imagine all sorts of continuing scenarios, but all we have is a moment, beautifully frozen in amber, that brings at least a modicum of peace and love to a group of lonely people reaching out but never finding a hand to hold.
Opens today at the Plaza Frontenac
–Joe