A Private Life: Review. By George & Josh Bate.
As practicing therapists and film critics with a particular love for murder mysteries, A Private Life appears to be the perfect intersection of our often discrepant interests. A concoction of promising ingredients that appeal to our dual careers, however, result in a movie that, while bolstering a compelling turn from Jodie Foster, crumbles under the weight of its abstract themes.
From director and co-writer Rebecca Zlotowski, A Private Life stars Jodie Foster as Lilian Steiner, an American psychoanalyst living and working in France. Upon learning of the apparent suicide of one of her patients, Paula (Virgine Efira), Lilian launches an investigation as she becomes convinced that her patient was murdered.
Despite its modern day setting, there is a vintage, and even timeless, quality to A Private Life. Filming on-location in Paris, the film features architecture and backdrops centuries old. Despite the occasional appearance of an iPhone, Foster’s Lilian records all of her sessions with old cassette tapes. Even the very nature of Lilian’s practice as a Freud-inspired psychoanalyst, a far cry from the modal therapist in contemporary Western culture, harkens back to an era decades prior. In turn, the film often tricks the viewer, unintentionally or intentionally, into believing they are watching a film set in the past.
With opening titles accompanied by Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer,” Zlotowski’s film further fosters a unique, time-transcending viewing experience with its willingness to lean into Hitchcockian sensibilities and nods to Hollywood’s Golden Age. A Private Lifebegins much like a classic Hitchcock-helmed thriller, with a lead character who suspects something is awry when others do not and an intriguing mystery to unravel. Having seen Paula for nine years in therapy, Lilian’s instincts tell her that her patient did not commit suicide, an initial suspicion that evolves as she dives deeper into Paula’s life and faces pushback for her inquiries.
The set-up is succinct and brisk, quickly grabbing the audience’s attention and allowing us to accompany Foster’s psychoanalyst-turned-sleuth as she uncovers clues and undertakes an investigation. This blend of Hitchcockian psychological thriller and whodunnit, coupled with an unexpectedly charming and old-fashioned remarriage comedy, imbue A Private Life with the feel of a film from Hollywood’s Golden Age and create a cozy, throwback movie to immerse oneself in.
As the mystery intrigues and the reemerging romance between Foster’s Lilian and her ex-husband Gaby (Daniel Auteuil) blossoms,A Private Life derails with a steady rise in its abstract exploration of psychoanalysis and antisemitism. A dream (or perhaps better described as a vision sequence) involving Lilian and Paula as musicians in a concert hall during World War II reoccurs throughout the film. Zlotowski doesn’t try to mislead the audience into thinking this vision sequence is actually happening, but that doesn’t mean it is devoid of meaning. As a psychoanalyst, dreams and the contents of the subconscious are important and shed light on human beings’ inner-workings and deepest insecurities. For Lillian, this becomes clearer as a version of her son Julien (Vincent Lacoste) as a Nazi officer appears in this hypnotic concert hall.
Aligned with the teachings of Sigmund Freud and Jacques Lacan, Zlotowski leaves the true meaning of these recurring visions up to interpretation, but the filmmaker opts to leave things so abstract that it’s difficult to extract any purpose of these sequences. The Holocaust obviously is an integral part of French history, as it is the family history of Zlotowski, and a fleeting accusation of antisemitism directed at a hypnotist by Lillian plants the seed that the film will dabble in this subject matter. And the inclusion of Lillian’s son amidst these visions is put into context as we learn more of her ambivalent relationship with him and his newborn son. However, the visions are absent of the substance and emotion necessary to make all of these threads come together.
A Private Life doesn’t stop there with its attempts at dramatizing the process of psychoanalysis. Over the course of the film, Lillian increasingly projects herself onto her deceased patient and leads her to pursue a mystery that is ultimately more about self-discovery than it is uncovering the identity of a murderer. In this sense, Zlotowski’s film progressively loses sight of what made it so intriguing in the first place as it loses its once iron-glad grip on the balance between murder mystery and psychoanalytic allegory.
This loss of balance rears its ugly head the most in a remarkably underwhelming resolution. The strength of a performance from Jodie Foster that requires the actress to largely convey her intellectual activity and emotional turmoil without the use of dialogue only carries A Private Life so far and, eventually, even that can’t save Zlotowski’s film from ruin. Not only does the film overly embrace its more abstract sensibilities, but it provides a conclusion to the whodunit that is destined to disappoint anyone even moderately invested in identifying the killer. Admittedly, this reveal does effectively illustrate A Private Life’s central message and leaves the viewer with interesting points about guilt, responsibility, and projection to ponder, although this messaging comes at the expense of a powerful ending to its core narrative.
Rating: 5/10
A Private Life blends Hitchockian thriller, whodunnit, remarriage comedy, and an examination of psychoanalysis together for a film that, while initially intriguing and bolstering a compelling performance from Jodie Foster, steadily loses its way. Rebecca Zlotowski’s film possesses a fascinatingly timeless quality to it, with nods to Hollywood’s Golden Age and a focus on a form of psychotherapy that harkens back to an era decades prior unfolding amidst the backdrop of centuries-old Parisian architecture.
The result is a cozy and atmospheric film, made all the more interesting by a succinct set-up for a solid murder mystery. A Private Life derails from its study foundation, however, with an abstract exploration of psychoanalysis, antisemitism, and maternal ambivalence best showcased through recurring vision sequences that leave too much up for interpretation. The once deft balance between murder mystery and allegory of psychoanalysis slowly crumbles, culminating in a remarkably underwhelming resolution that prioritizes its central message over an effective conclusion to its core narrative.
A Private Life appears to have the perfect concoction of ingredients to appeal to those who, like us, are practicing therapists and murder mystery-obsessed film critics. Regrettably, these ingredients don’t come together as seamlessly as one would hope and leave one feeling like they just observed a session of Freudian psychoanalysis rather than a full-fledged, well-developed film.