a.k.a. La Mari de la Coiffeuse
company: Lambart Productions
year: 1990
runtime: 82′
country: France
director: Patrice Leconte
cast: Jean Rochefort, Anna Galiena,
Roland Bertin, Maurice Chevit
dvd company: Severin Films
release date: April 28, 2009
retail price: $29.95
disc details: Region 1 / NTSC / dual layer
Order this disc from Amazon.com
reviewed from a screener provided
by Severin Films LLC
Young Antoine has a fixation on the local hairdresser, a buxom red head whose shop he visits at every available opportunity – he even tells his father he intends to marry a hairdresser when he gets older. His childhood fantasy grows into a lifelong obsession when the hairdresser of his youth kills herself with an overdose of barbiturates, leaving no explanation behind. Antoine grows up following his father’s advice – that life is simple, and that all dreams can be fulfilled with the appropriate dose of desire.
He is middle aged when he first encounters Mathilde, a younger woman who operates a small salon. Antoine wastes no time in letting her know of his desires – proposing to her immediately after his first hair cut. Mathilde is unsure of how to take his proposal at first, but upon his return visit to the shop accepts. Her insecurities are perfectly matched to Antoine’s fetishistic obsession, and the two begin a simple, happy life together. But Mathilde’s insecurity returns time and again, leaving one wondering if the formative tragic event of his childhood might repeat itself . . .
THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is, in a word, beautiful – beautifully produced, beautifully photographed, beautifully directed, and beautifully performed. Leconte renders what is, ostensibly, a fetish film into something sweeter, effectively avoiding the creepier aspects that could have arisen in a tale about an older man lusting after a younger woman. The narrative is related largely in flashback and predominantly from the perspective of Antoine, with the entire affair captured aptly by Eduardo Serra’s [UNBREAKABLE] warm, diffused cinematography.
Jean Rochefort, a much-lauded actor well into the fourth decade of his career by the time of HAIRDRESSER, is perfectly cast and entirely believable in the part of Antoine. Rochefort has no trouble blending the character’s more naive, childish properties [his tendency to erupt into improvised Indian dance, for example] with his adult desires, and telegraphs his changing emotions with the most minute of changes to his expression and body language. Equally talented is the young Henry Hocking, who plays Antoine at age 12 – it’s a pity that Hocking’s only other claim to fame is the made-for-television production PRINCESS ALEXANDRIA.
As important as Antoine in the mix is Anna Galiena as the object of his [and, vicariously, our] desire, Mathilde. Galiena exudes a quiet and restrained sensuality that, coupled with Leconte’s tendency to shy from overt nudity [in keeping with the naive nature of Antoine's fetish], makes her an erotic force to be reckoned with. Her character remains elusive throughout, as does the cause of her tragic insecurities, with Galiena’s fine performance and Leconte’s intelligent scripting ensuring that Mathilde never devolves into just another piece of eye candy for Antoine and the audience to ogle.
There are other brilliant performances to be had as well – particularly that of Maurice Chevit as Mathilde’s former employer and long-time friend Agopian. Chevit has been a staple of French film since 1946 and still appears to be going strong now at the age of 85. Here he portrays an important paternal figure in Mathilde’s life, and his declining health provides an important catalyst for her mounting uncertainty about the future.
If there’s a problem to be had with HAIRDRESSER then it may be with Leconte’s parlaying to cliche by having Mathilde suffer a tragic demise – it seems too obvious a choice for what is, otherwise, such an intelligent and unique film. That said, HAIRDRESSER is rescued in the end by its focusing on Antoine’s reaction to the event. It’s impossible not to sympathise with him as he withdraws back into his fantasy. I’m hard pressed to say that I’ve any other issues with the film at all – highly recommended.
There’s a UK release by Second Sight in 2005 that presented THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND in a compromised aspect ratio of 1.78:1 – it’s happy to note that Severin Films did not follow suit, and their fine transfer presents the film in its original 2.35:1. In keeping with recent Severin efforts, the transfer is both progressive and anamorphic, with spot-on contrast and color. Detail can appear a bit soft at times, but this looks to be due to Serra’s diffused cinematography as opposed to a fault with the telecine process. Damage is kept to an absolute minimum throughout, appearing only as occasional light speckling. I’m also happy to note that the encoding has been spread over a dual layer disc as opposed to a single layer, seemingly the norm for Severin Films up until now. Excellent work all around on this one, guys!
Audio is presented in a fine Doldby Digital French monophonic track [mislabeled as both Surround and Stereo on the packaging of the screener I received] that reproduces the reasonably subtle soundscape and frequent incursions of Indian music quite commendably. Augmenting the presentation are a set of English subtitles that are well-translated and make for easy reading, presented in a simple white font with black border.
Supplements, aside from the theatrical trailer, are all unique to this Severin presentation. Up first is an interview with writer/director Leconte [LECONTE ON LECONTE PART 1] that runs just over 36 minutes. The interview covers his professional life, from his start as a comic strip artist to his entry into feature filmmaking, and is very informative – the French dialogue is accompanied by hardcoded English subtitles. The documentary is, happily, shot in a non-static style and from multiple angles, both handheld and stationary, keeping it from appearing as sedate as so many others of its type. Next is a shorter document, THE HAIRDRESSER’S RECOLLECTIONS – an interview with Italian actress Anna Galiena that runs just under 18 minutes. Galiena is as charming as ever and, speaking in English, makes for a wonderful interview subject. Both features were directed by the prolific and highly capable David Gregory – one of the best in the business as far as this sort of work is concerned. Rounding out the supplements is a theatrical trailer, in French with English subtitles.
It’s nice to see that Severin Films is both capable of and inclined to give obscure art-house fair [this, Leconte's THE PERFUME OF YVONNE, and Polanski's WHAT? most recently] the same desirable treatment as its exploitation acquisitions. THE HAIRDRESSER’S HUSBAND is one of the finest romantic films this reviewer has ever seen, and Severin’s disc represents it beautifully – given the quality of both the feature and the presentation, this one should be on every film fan’s list of must-buy discs for 2009.
