The Barbarians: A Minor Julie Delpy (review)
A Breton village is torn apart over the reception of Syrian refugees… A humanist comedy with slightly thick strings, saved by its actors.
Never where you expect her, Julie Delpy alternates in her career as a director between expatriate bobo chronicles (Two Days in Paris, On the Verge), the more daring experiments flirting with the genre (The Countess, My Zoe) and our own comedies. With its stars in the credits and its brightly colored poster on a white background, The Barbarians clearly belongs to the latter category. It’s a feel-good movie, yes, but inspired by the feel-bad mood of today’s France. The pitch is clever: in Brittany, in Paimpont, the municipal council voted in favor of welcoming a family of Ukrainian refugees – but in the end it’s Syrians who arrive… A choral film against a backdrop of rifts between those who want to reach out and those who prefer to close the door, The Barbarians alternates moods by zapping from one character to another, going from a serious tone (when we are in the intimacy of the Syrian family) to more zany, even absurd (the appearances of Marc Fraize as a gamekeeper who is a fan of Johnny). These not very fluid changes of register give a messy side to the film, moreover quite predictable in its reconciliatory purpose. The nuance comes mainly from the actors, from India Hair as a stifled wife to Laurent Lafitte as a plumber attached to the preservation of the Breton identity (although Alsatian). Julie Delpy, for her part, projects her own figure of troop leader in a role of a teacher as whimsical as it is determined, holding the fort against all odds – even if the foundations, in this specific case, are a little shaky.
By Julie Delpy. With Julie Delpy, Sandrine Kiberlain, Laurent Lafitte… Duration 1h41. Released on September 18, 2024