Pros: A meditation on sensuality; two fine performances; good soundtrack and cinematography
Cons: Skimpy plot and little character development
The Bottom Line: This is a different kind of film than the usual fare, lacking both plot and significant character development, but it deftly explores the joys and limitations of human sensuality.
Plot Details: This opinion reveals everything about the movie's plot.
At just twelve years of age, a lad sets out on a lifelong quest to marry a hairdresser. The Hairdresser's Husband is a tale of erotic longing, basically, held together by two fine performances. The story was based on the childhood fantasies of the film's director, Patrice Leconte.
Historical Background: Patrice Leconte, born in 1947, decided early in life that he wanted to become a filmmaker. After graduating from France's top film school, he worked for a bit as a cartoonist while shooting comic-fantasy shorts on the side. His first feature film was The Toilets Were Locked From the Inside (1975), a comic piece that failed to win over French audiences. His first big commercial success came with an action-comedy called Les Specialistes (1985). The success of that film paved the way for some of Leconte's best work: Tandem (1987), Monsieur Hire (1989), and The Hairdresser's Husband (1992). Monsieur Hire received high praise from critics. Leconte also won praise and an Oscar nomination for Ridicule (1996), a period comedy set in the 18th century court of Versailles.
The Story: Young Antoine (Henry Hocking), age 12, loves nothing more than dancing sensuously to exotic Persian music. He's at an age when he'll begin to discover his erotic longings, mainly through the influence of two circumstances. The first is the constant chafing of his delicate male apparatus by the tight, woolen bathing suit he's been given by his mother, for use during the family's summer vacation. The second is the tantalizing perfumes, lotions, and physical contact he experiences at the local barbershop, where a plump, Alsatian widow, Madam Shaeffer (Anne-Marie Pisani), provides sensual shampoos and pleasing sensations. Her musky aroma sends the poor boy's hormones into orbit. A look of utter bliss washes across Antoine's face as her fingers massage his scalp. As the shampoo-laden water streams off his locks, Antoine steals a peak into the buxom beauty's gaping blouse and spies a perfectly contoured breast. That evening, at the dinner table, Antoine's father (Roland Bertin) quizzes the boy and his brother (Pierre Meyrand) about what they hope to do when they grow up. Antoine's brother has the good sense to be circumspect, but Antoine blurts out his newfound ambition: he wants to be a hairdresser's husband. Antoine's father impulsively slaps him, causing Antoine to retreat to his room. Later that summer, it is Antoine who discovers the suicide of his beloved Madam Shaeffer, as he stands at the barbershop window, staring up the prone woman's skirt.
Thirty years later, Antoine, at forty-two (Jean Rochefort), is now a shy, introverted fellow. He still cherishes his trips to the barbershops, especially when he discovers one being operated by the lovely Mathilde (Anna Galiena). It is love at first sight and Antoine blurts out a proposal of marriage to her as she is finishing up his first haircut. She seemingly ignores his absurd offer. Three weeks later, with his hair barely grown out enough to warrant a return visit, he gets both another haircut and an answer to his request: "oui."
Antoine and Mathilde are soon married, holding their reception in the shop, which is their little piece of heaven. When a customer inadvertently interrupts the reception, hoping to have his beard cut, they are more than happy to take time out to serve him. In the days ahead, Antoine sits each day in the shop, worshiping every contour of Mathilde's body, her aroma, her movements, and her pleasing countenance. Occasionally, he helps out, such as when he distracts a young lad who is determined to resist the looming pileous assault. Mathilde cherishes Antoine's lusty attentions and the two sometimes close the shop early in order to make love on the floor or on one of the chairs, despite the shop's large storefront windows and lack of curtains. On one occasion, Antoine fondles Mathilde as she is giving a customer a shampoo, stimulating her manually as she tries to concentrate on her work. On another occasion, the pair gets drunk on barbershop cologne! The two are so totally absorbed in one another that they seldom go out and have no friends. What they see of the children who come into their shop and the distress of their parents is enough to dissuade them from any interest in procreation. Besides, both prefer no pregnancies, since that could "deform" Mathilde's flat belly. For ten years, the pair enjoys a relentlessly active sex life.
SPOILER AHEAD. SKIP TO THEMES TO AVOID.
Before Antoine met Mathilde, she had acquired the barbershop from the former owner, Ambroise Dupré, when he retired. He now lives a bleak existence in a nursing home, supported by Mathilde's payments for the shop. Antoine and Mathilde visit him now and then. If Antoine is obsessed with femininity, in all of its erotic manifestations, Mathilde's obsession is to never lose that ability to elicit his lustful attentions. She dreads the idea of growing old, ending up like her old mentor. She dreads losing her sexual appeal. One day, after a final erotic entanglement with her lover, Mathilde's leaps into a churning waterway, leaving behind a suicide note that reads, in part, "I am going before your desire dies. Then we'd be left with affection alone, and I know that won't be enough. I'm going before I grow unhappy. I go bearing the taste of our embraces, your smell, your look, your kisses. I go with the memory of my loveliest years, the ones you gave me. I kiss you now so tenderly, I die of it."
Themes: This film explores both the marvels and limitations of human sensuality. My personal view is that there is no right or wrong degree of sensuality. People vary widely in how much emphasis they put on eroticism and sexuality. The elements that contribute to a person's level of sensuality obviously include libido, but there's also aesthetic and relational aspects. Antoine, for example, nicely illustrates the aesthetics of passion. He had a deep-seated appreciation for femininity, in the same way that another person might appreciate a kind of music, a variety of paintings, or fine wines. Some people cherish intimate sexual relations as an important part of connecting with another human being. Sensuality is not necessary cheap or shallow. It can be, if it's reduced to merely the need for sexual release, but it can also be one of the most deeply fulfilling aspects of human existence. We shouldn't subscribe to concepts like sex-addiction or frigidity except as defined by the person's own ambivalence. If a person is unhappy about their level of interest in sensuality, for one reason or another, then, it becomes a clinical concern. Otherwise, everyone should be entitled to and respected for his or her own level of interest in sensuality, provided that the person limits the expression of his or her desires to a manner that does no harm to others.
Antoine and Mathilde are two people who live for sensuality. They are in love with passionate love. Since passionate love hinges so much of physical appeal, it is necessarily age-dependent. It's not typically a significant part of the experience of the very young or the elderly. There is a kind of a risk, therefore, for those who treasure sensuality as young adults. Sooner or later, such people have to adjust their priorities and find delight in other aspects of human life and relationships. Having to shift one's priorities is an inevitable part of maturation as we pass through various life stages anyway; sensuality is just one among many examples of aspects of life that have to be adjusted over time. There's no reason to avoid a meaningful aspect of life simply because it can't be sustained indefinitely.
Mathilde symbolizes the notion of passion. The capacity for passion provides us with what many consider our "best years," but sooner or later passion wanes. Mathilde concludes that what will be left after passion subsides affection will not be enough. Her problem is not that she's overrated passion; it's that she's underrated the merits of affection. Mathilde and Antoine are one-dimensional people. They've perfected the art of passion to an exalted expression but they're lacking in other dimensions. They have no children, no friends, and no close family, illustrating their lack of interest in or practice with non-passionate relationships based on affection. Yes, they are shallow people, but that enables Leconte to restrict his film's focus to just one issue: passion. The lead characters may be shallow, but the concept of sensuality is not.
Antoine has no goals or interests in life other than admiring Mathilde. Mathilde at least cuts hair. I don't see that this film is guilty of either male chauvinism or misogyny. It is Antoine who defines his existence entirely in terms of his relationship to Mathilde (as the film's title makes clear). It's far more common, in films or in life, for women to define themselves as appendages in their husbands' lives. Mathilde's shallowness comes instead from her preoccupation with retaining her sensuality. That obsession presumably predated her relationship with Antoine. Hairdressing, by its very nature, is about vanity and optimizing appearance. It is telling that both of the hairdressers in this film, Madame Shaeffer and Mathilde, chose to exit life as they approached middle age.
Production Values: This is an odd kind of little film. The plot is very flimsy and much too skimpy to sustain a film for even the brisk 84 minutes that this one occupies. There are many other examples of European films that are thin on plot, but some of those are well sustained by increased emphasis on character development. In this film, there are really only two significant characters and neither is complex. All we really learn about Antoine is that he adores femininity. All we learn about Mathilde is that she treasures being sexy and feminine. So, this is also not a film that is strong in characterization. Usually, a dearth of both plot and characterization would be the kiss of death for a film, but this one works, at least for me, at another level. This film is a refined meditation, if you will, on a single core aspect of human existence: sensuality. And sensuality, after all, is not an inconsequential subject. It's an essential part of human existence. This film very nicely illuminates how seemingly incidental experiences with subtle aromas and tantalizing glimpses can be formative of our erotic longings.
The film's visual style is pleasing and intelligent. The music provided by Michael Nyman is a crucial part of the film's appeal, adding depth to our understanding of the yearnings and emotions of the two lovers.
Part of my enjoyment of the film derived from the delightful performance by Jean Rochefort. He's been one of my favorites ever since I saw him in The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe (1972). His other work includes The Clockmaker (1973), The Phantom of Liberty (1974), Ridicule (1996), and The Closet (2001). Rochefort does a great job hamming it up a bit with his impersonation of a Persian slave girl. Rochefort has a kind of twinkle in his eye that is a sharp contrast to his somewhat hangdog visage. Anna Galiena is a Kim Delaney (Det. Diane Russell on NYPD Blue) look alike. Galiena has had a fairly busy career, but no film credits in other films I've seen. Galiena speaks four languages: Italian, French, Spanish, and English. Galiena and Rochefort together produce just the right kind of feeling of dreamy eroticism.
Bottom-Line: This film is a charming romantic idyll. That may or may not be enough to sustain your interest. If you have a genuine interest in the idea of sensuality and how it relates to small and subtle life experiences, you'll find this film a fascinating bit of erotic contemplation. If your interest in sensuality is minimal, you're likely to be bored to death, since there's little plot or character development to provide alternative levels of interest. I enjoyed it, as a change of pace kind of film, and will award it four-stars, but with a warning that it will be less for some viewers. The Hairdresser's Husband is in French with English subtitles and has a running time of 84 minutes. The film's eroticism is achieved without sexually explicit scenes. The film is rated R for sensuality.
Recommended:
Yes
Viewing Format: VHS Video Occasion: Good Date Movie Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age
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