Hotel Harabati film review

HOTEL HARABATI

A young Parisian married couple decide to take a holiday in Venice. At the train station they chat to an Arab man who suddenly disappears leaving his bag behind him. The bag is marked 'Tel Harabati' and is crammed full of euros. What should they do?

This promising opening is from the directorial debut of French helmer Brice Cauvin, who has spent the greater part of his career working as an assistant to some of France's leading cinematic lights. Unfortunately things go downnhill from here, with a wilfully confusing plot that is reminiscent of, but vastly inferior to the works of Michael Haneke (notably his masterpiece Hidden).

The couple in question, Philippe (Laurent Lucas) and Marion (Helene Fillieres), decide to take the cash home to their small city flat where they are clearly struggling. Philippe is having trouble with his job as an architect, Marion is becoming increasingly insular, and they are finding it hard to scrape together the money to pay their rent, let alone buy a new apartment.

This is meant to be a puzzle of a film which forces audiences to put all of the pieces together, but its pretentious and meandering nature is more irritating than anything else. Strange photos, a Jewish opera singer and the return of the Arab himself are all meant to add to the intrigue but resoundingly fail to do so.

Even the performances of the leading couple aren't really in synch, and the end result is one that simply feels too forced. Far better French films have made it across the Channel this year.

Paul Hurley