Contrasting evocations of period lead the way in this week's DVD column, as Pawel Pawlikowski and Michel Gondry employ very different methods to recapture the past. Elsewhere, there's a dash of Gallic excess, a heavy-handed touch of realism and some slick Italian satire.

The sinister methods of totalitarianism are explored by Pawel Pawlikowski in Ida, which sees the UK-based director return to his Polish homeland in the company of playwright Rebecca Lenkiewicz for a story set in the 1960s. Representing a marked improvement on The Woman in the Fifth (2011), this is a sombre examination of the relationship between the Communist Party and the Catholic Church and the role that each played in playing down the role that Poles played in the Holocaust and the lingering legacy of anti-Semitism that inspired it. Many other films have considered the related themes of guilt, shame, conspiracy and silence. But Pawlikowski succeeds in capturing the look, as well as the mood of a country that seemed content to wallow in the self-pitying delusion of totalitarian victimhood.

Having been raised in a convent, 18 year-old Agata Trzebuchowska is eager to take her vows and become a nun. However, mother superior Halina Skoczynska insists that she has a final meeting with her last known relative, her aunt Agata Kulesza, who turns out to be a high-powered judge, who plays jazz in her spacious apartment as she calmly informs Trzebuchowska that she is a Jewish orphan who was rescued during the war. She shows her a photograph of her mother holding a baby and abruptly terminates the visit, as she has to preside over the prosecution of some supposed enemies of the state.

Feeling guilty at leaving Trzebuchowska to process such momentous news, Kulesza collects her from Lodz bus station and shows her more family snaps. She also offers to drive the demure teenager to her home town of Piaski, but warns her there will be few traces of her past and no grave to mourn beside. Although fearful that the revelation will shake her faith in God, Trzebuchowska agrees to the journey and suppresses a smile when her aunt asks if she ever has impure thoughts and teases her that she wouldn't be making much of a sacrifice if she did not.

Trzebuchowska kneels at a memorial on the edge of the village before they call at the farm the family owned before they were dispossessed. A peasant woman asks the novice to bless her baby and informs them that the menfolk will be home later in the day. As Trzebuchowska prays in the local church, Kulesza seeks out Mariusz Jakus's bar and asks if he remembers her family. He shakes his head hurriedly, but old patron Marek Kasprzyk laments that the thriving Jewish community was wiped out during the war.

On returning to the farm, tenant Adam Szyszkowski claim to know nothing about the previous owners. But the outraged Kulesza barges past them into the house and threatens to destroy him unless he reveals what happened back in the 1940s. Out in the barn, Trzebuchowska strokes a cow and notices the pieces of stained glass that have been used to repair holes in the wall. Szyszkowski threatens to call the police, but Kulesza refuses to be intimidated and makes sure that officer Artur Janusiak knows how important she is when she swerves off the road and has to have her car towed by horses.

With Kulesza in the cells for a night, Trzebuchowska finds sanctuary with priest Jan Wociech Poradowski. He also denies knowing the family and she spends an uncomfortable night on a camp bed listening to the chimes of the church clock. The following morning, she meets up with her aunt for breakfast and Kulesza confides that she had once been a high-powered prosecutor who had condemned people to death during the purges of the early 1950s. She claims she is no longer scared of anyone and will force Trela into confessing what happened to Trzebuchowska's mother and where she has been buried.

As they drive to Szytlow, Kulesza picks up hitch-hiker Dawid Ogrodnik, who is a saxophone player with the jazz player booked to play in the hotel where they are staying. The women watch the musicians rehearse and Kulesza ribs Trzebuchowska about getting a crush on the handsome stranger. She asks at the bar for directions to the house occupied by Szyszkowski's father, Jerzy Trela, but discover he is in hospital. So, she suggests they enjoy themselves and dance the night away to Ogrodnik's band. However, Trzebuchowska thinks it is disrespectful to party when they are searching for her mother and she stays in her room and reads, while Kulesza thrills to Joanna Kulig's singing and cuts a rug with an amorous middle-aged man in a sharp suit.

She curses her luck that she missed out on some loving because she is sharing a room with her niece and urges Trzebuchowska not to throw her life away on a vocation that may be rooted more in a need for security rather than genuine religious conviction. When she tuts, Kulesza acknowledges that she may be a slut, but she reminds Trzebuchowska that Jesus liked spirited women like Mary Magdalene and makes a grab for her bible in taunting her for being a saint.

Trzebuchowska flees the room and follows the sound of music coming from the ballroom. She listens as Ogrodnik plays John Coltrane's `Naima' and applauds his talent. As they chat, she tells him that she was raised in an orphanage and has just discovered her true heritage. He reassures her that he has a Gypsy spirit and she returns to the room to pray, without putting on her veil.

The next morning, they go to the hospital to find Trela. He tells Kulesza that he had liked her sister and had hidden her in the woods, along with her husband, their baby and another young boy when the Nazis tried to round-up the Jews. Kulesza asks if the boy was scared when he died and Trela looks away in shame. She breaks down and reveals that he was her son and that she had entrusted him to her sister while she went and fought with the partisans. Her heroism had helped her become an important person in the new regime, but she had never been able to forget the child she barely knew.

Back at the hotel, Trzebuchowska tucks Kulesza into bed. They are disturbed in the night by a knock at the door and Szyszkowski enters to ask if they would be willing to sign over the deeds to the farm in return for knowing where their relatives are buried. Trzebuchowska agrees and wanders downstairs to listen to the band playing. Ogrodnik spots her and comes to sit beside her. She tells him that she has decided to take her vows and he reveals that he plans to avoid his national service. As she smiles sadly, he asks if she has any idea of the effect her beauty has on him and she returns to her room to let down her long red hair as she stands before the mirror.

Having said her goodbyes to Ogrodnik in the foyer, Trzebuchowska accompanies Kulesza to the farm. Szyszkowski leads them into the forest and starts digging as they sit and watch. Eventually, he produces a skull, which Kulesza wraps in her scarf and wanders away to be alone. Trzebuchowska asks Szyszkowski why she was spared and he admits that he didn't have the heart to harm her because she was so tiny. He gave her to the local priest so that no one would know she was Jewish and he hopes that she can forgive him.

Gathering up the remainder of the bones, Trzebuchowska leaves Szyszkowski with his guilt and returns to the car. They place the remains in the boot and Kulesza promises to bury them in the family grave in Lublin. When Trzebuchowska suggests that they find a priest, Kulesza reminds her what they really need is a rabbi and she promises to sober up on the long drive to the cemetery. When they arrive, the plot is overgrown and it takes a while to find the family stone. They bury the remains using broken tools and Trzebuchowska makes the sign of the Cross, as she prays.

As they arrive back at the convent, Kulesza tells Trzebuchowska that she won't come to witness her vows. But she knows her parents would be proud of her and she promises to drink to her health on the big day. However, on the day before the ceremony, Trzebuchowska agonises about her identity, her faith and the feelings she still has for Ogrodnik. She apologises to a picture of the Sacred Heart and looks on as the others become nuns without her.

In Lodz, Kulesza leafs through a photograph album and goes to a bar to get drunk. She asks a Artur Majewski to drive her home and curses that Trzebuchowska hides her beautiful hair away. Waking to find herself alone in bed, Kulesza has breakfast and a bath. She puts Mozart's `Jupiter Symphony' on the record player, throws open a window and buttons up her coat before jumping to her death.

Standing alone in the apartment, Trzebuchowska plays the same piece of music and falls asleep on her aunt's bed. She wakes in the night and puts on one of Kulesza's dresses and teeters in a pair of her heels. She even smokes a cigarette in the mirror and knocks back a glass of vodka before dancing to the music. As she spins, she becomes tangled in the net curtains and falls over.

At the funeral, Trzebuchowska hears Kulesza being hailed a heroine of the state who will live forever in the collective memory. She is not wearing her habit and notices Ogrodnik leaning against a tree. That night, she comes to the bar where he is playing and her hair cascades over one of Kulesza's dresses. After everyone else has left, Ogrodnik puts on a record and they dance across the check-tiled floor. Trzebuchowska stands on tiptoe to kiss him. As she lies beside him in the darkness of his apartment, he asks if she would like to come to Gdansk with the band. He suggests they should get married and have children and a dog. But she isn't sure she shares his definition of a normal life. So, when she wakes the next morning, she puts on her habit and veil and leaves him to sleep. However, as she walks back along the long road to the convent, it remains uncertain whether she now has a sacrifice to make her vows worthwhile or whether she is returning to tell the mother superior of her decision to leave.

Sombrely photographed by Lukasz Zal and Ryszard Lenczewski in a austere monochrome entirely suited to its time and setting, this is a provocative treatise on Polish anti-Semitism and the stance taken by the Catholic Church during and after the Second World War. The boxy Academy ratio frame, the hard edges of the lighting (which takes on a more Vermeeresque glow during some of the later close-ups of Trzebuchowska) and Marcel Slawinski and Katarzyna Sobanska-Strzalkowska bleakly authentic production design combine to suggest a state in the grip of regret, recrimination and repression. And this sense of being bereft of life and hope seeps into Kulesza's excellent performance, as the self-loathing apparatchik worn down by the Party's brutal methods of enforcing an ideology in which she no longer believes.

But, while she is never less than angelically inscrutable, Trzebuchowska (a student with little acting experience) proves less convincing as the innocent whose spiritual certainty is more readily undermined by a handsome stranger than the shocking discovery of her heritage. Nevertheless, she blossoms under Kulesza's tutelage. Similarly, in making a smooth transition from the stage to the screen, the debuting Lenkiewicz joins with Pawlikowski in deftly exploiting the conventions of the road movie and the detective story to explore how calamitous events over the previous quarter century had impacted upon the role of women in Polish society. They don't quite succeed in keeping melodrama at bay during the latter stages, but this is still a thoughtful, cinematic and wholly relevant picture that consistently echoes the work of Andrzejs Wajda and Munk.

Unfortunately, Michel Gondry falls wide of the mark with Mood Indigo, as he sets himself the near impossible task of filming Boris Vian's cult novel, L'Écume des jours. This love story-cum-satirical jibe at postwar Parisian intellectuals was coolly reviewed on its original publication in 1947. But it slowly started to acquire a following in the 1960s and became a set text in schools. However, each reader created their own impressions of its futuristic pastiches, romantic interludes and flights of fancy and, thus, Gondry faces the same problem of imposing his own vision on preconceived notions that confounded Charles Belmont in Spray of the Days (1968) and Go Riju in Kuroe (2001).

Indeed, as is often the case, those unfamiliar with the text will be at something of an advantage, as they have no preconceptions to disappoint. But, while Gondry and co-scenarist Luc Bossi strive to remain as faithful to Vian as possible, the decision to relocate the action to the present day leaves some of the more outré imaginings looking quaintly antiquated, while the over-reliance on visual effects distracts Gondry from the core story, which encapsulates the poignant pessimism that gave Vian's writing its niche.

Colin (Romain Duris) lives in a rooftop apartment with his lawyer-cum-cook Nicolas (Omar Sy), who gets personalised tips from the TV chef Gouffé (Alain Chabat), who occasionally reaches through the screen to hand him ingredients. Somewhere in a cavernous room, Colin's life is being copied from a book by a phalanx of typists working on a never-ending conveyor belt, while a mouse (Sacha Bourdo), who resides in an exact model of Colin's house, scurries around an apartment that seems to have a life of its own (particularly the doorbell, which scuttles off like a cockroach each time it is rung).

A leisured man of means, Colin is expecting a visit from his friend Chick (Gad Elmaleh) and tracks him down to a bookshop using a Heath Robinson version of Google that is operated by little people who resemble the Numbskulls that will be familiar to ageing readers of The Beezer and younger fans of The Beano and The Dandy. Chick is a devotee of philosopher Jean-Sol Partre (Philippe Torreton) and spends most of his money on his writings and memorabilia. But Colin is less in thrall and is impatient to show off his pianococktail machine, which determines the content and potency of each drink by the mood and intensity of the melody being played on its keyboard.

Chick has fallen for Alise (Aïssa Maïga), who just happens to be Nicolas's niece, and Colin feels a bit left out because Nicolas is in a relationship with Isis (Charlotte Le Bon). However, as they are all invited to Isis's party that night, Nicolas offers to help Colin make a good impression with the ladies by showing him how to dance the biglemoi. He places Duke Ellington's `Chloe' on the souped-up record player, which sends oscillating coloured circles across the room as Nicolas demonstrates how to infeasibly elongate his legs in time to the music. Colin leans back and lets gravity take over and his legs still have a corkscrewy feel to them a few hours later, as he chases his puppyish shoes down the stairs to head off to the soirée.

Having presented Isis with a gift for her dog, Colin is introduced to Chloé (Audrey Tautou), who laughs when he almost chokes on a snack in his klutzy bid to appear suave. However, Nicolas spares him further embarrassment by getting everyone to do the biglemoi and Colin feels himself falling under Chloé's spell as devises her own steps so that they can dance cheek to cheek. Yet, the following day, Colin confides in Chick that he is not sure that Chloé would even recognise him again. But Nicolas has everything under control and serves a large cake containing a capsule concealing a note informing Colin that he has a date with Chloé in his favourite part of Paris in two hours time.

Momentarily unsure where to go, Colin hits upon Les Halles, even though it is essentially a construction site because a hole has inexplicably opened up beneath the old market place. They link arms and Chloé compliments Colin on his sense of humour as they wander around. He suggests they take a ride in a cloud-shaped pod that is lifted high above the streets on a crane and Chloé makes up a song about Colin's name. She is taken aback by his indelicate remark about two naked women in the back of a car, but accompanies him into a railway tunnel full of bird cages. Moreover, even though she thinks it's a bit premature, she allows him to kiss her as they sit on a park bench.

The cloud takes their photograph, which bears the legend `Six months later' on the back and the action resumes with the now inseparable Colin and Chloé enjoying a huge breakfast before they go ice-skating at the Molitor rink. The tannoy is operated by a giant crow and Colin finds himself in the middle of a pile-up caused by a figure in red trying to snag an object flying overhead. Chloé confides in Chick and Alise that she wants to marry Colin, but doubts he has the courage to propose. But he pops the question as they are carried away on stretchers after another collision and Chloé is overjoyed.

On their wedding day, Chloé sends the mouse to check that Colin is coping with the pressure and it seems as though Chick has everything under control. However, en route to Saint-Eustache, he sees a Partre mannequin in a shop window and insists on stopping to buy it. Colin arrives at the steps of the church and is informed by the priest (Vincent Rottiers) that he and Chloé will have to race with Chick and Alise in model cars to see who wins the right to marry and the couples zoom along the aisles while a robot-cum-spaceship flies above them depositing a figure on a parachute. Fortunately, Colin and Chloé prevail and they kiss underwater before Nicolas sweeps them away for a honeymoon along the Sunshine Road.

They drive through a rainbow and stop to picnic. Yet, while Chloé sits in sunlight, Colin is drenched by a split-screen downpour and they rush to a nearby hotel, where owner's daughter Tilly Scott Pedersen invites them to a party. Colin lifts Chloé and tosses her upwards so that she flies to the balcony outside their room and everything seems idyllic. But, as they sleep, something blows through the window and settles in Chloé's chest.

Chick takes Alise to a Partre conference and takes a tumble while trying to record his speech. Alise is growing tired of her boyfriend's obsession, but she has more things to worry about, as Chloé is unwell. She threatens to slap anyone who frets, but Nicolas and the mouse notice that less light is coming through the apartment windows, while Colin realises that the expensive remedies produced by the pharmacist (Natacha Régnier) are starting to eat into his fortune. Yet Chloé remains in good spirits and slaps Colin and Chick when she feigns pain during a day out. She sends the boys to Molitor, while she goes shopping with Alise and Isis. But she faints and Colin has to dash across the city (whose walls seem to close in on him as he runs with such recklessness that his shadow is hit by a car) in order to console her and reassure her that he doesn't regret marrying her for a second.

Dr Mangemanche (Michel Gondry) comes to examine Chloé the next day and informs Colin that she has some strange music on her lung and needs to come to his surgery for tests. He tries to cheer Colin up by showing him a picture of his own wife and is insulted when he bursts out laughing. But he has little reason to smile when Chick asks to borrow the 25,000 doublezoons he needs to purchase Partre's pipe and trousers, as well as a book that bears the indentation of his thumb on its pages. Moreover, the tiny metal pellets produced by a wired-up rabbit at the pharmacy cost a packet and Colin has to face the awful prospect of getting a job.

Chloé is reluctant to swallow the wriggling pills and asks Colin to make love to her. She claims to feel better, but is evidently weak as they walk to Mangemanche's surgery, where he x-rays Chloé and finds a water lily on her lung. He informs them that she can only drink two spoonfuls of water a day and has to be surrounded by flowers in the hope that they can drive the lily away. They return home in silence, but Nicolas offers to help pick up the flowers that will be needed to fill Chloé's sick room. Aided by the florist (Louise Mast), Colin makes his selection from the rows of rotating displays inside the shop, while Alise watches in amazement as the bunch she brings Chloé wilts when placed uoon her breast. She is also surprised to see that Nicolas has aged from 32 to 47 and that the difference is even reflected in his passport.

Meanwhile, Colin tries to find a job and loses his temper when his chair keeps collapsing during an interview. He has more luck at an armaments factory, where the boss (Zinedine Soualem) hires him to lie naked on a metal seed mound that is used to grow weapons. Despite missing Chloé, who has gone to a clinic in the country, Colin fires the rapidly ageing Nicolas because he can no longer afford his wages and refuses to allow him to stay on for free. He even sells the pianococktail to Duke Ellington (Kid Creole) and gets drunk as he plays a series of sentimental songs.

Indeed, the world is becoming an increasingly colourless and smaller place without Chloé, who is allowed to return home after Mangemanche removes the lily (but warns Colin that her left lung could easily become infected). Realising that Colin is strapped for cash after being fired for producing guns with rubbery barrels, Mangemanche waives a portion of his fee. Such is his desperation that Colin gets a job working his own book in the hope amending the plotline, but he cannot keep up with the speed of the passing typewriters and succeeds in only causing chaos.

Chloé is aware that her time is short and urges Colin to find happiness with Alise. But she has lost patience with Chick and exacts fiery revenge upon Partre for alienating his affections. Colin lands a job with `the administration' that involves warning people of imminent medical problems. However, he is distraught when he sees Chloé's death listed on his charge sheet and screams in despair during a dismally rainy night as he lifts her from her bed of flowers and she passes away in an ever-shrinking room.

The priest insists that he can only offer a pauper's funeral and Nicolas and Alise support Colin as the coffin is tossed into a mass grave. He shoots angrily at the surface of a lake with one of his bendy guns and the apartment begins to fold in on itself. However, the mouse rescues one of Chloé's drawings and takes it to the typing pool where it becomes part of an illustrated book whose pages are animated to show the happier moments of Colin and Chloé's romance, as the picture ends.

Heavily indebted to production designer Stéphane Rosenbaum, cinematographer Christophe Beaucarne and Julien Poncet de la Grave and his stop-motion and digital effects teams, Gondry had clearly revisited some of his past Björk promos and the Jim Carrey-Kate Winslet dramedy Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) in order to approximate the world envisaged by Boris Vian. Yet he only partially succeeds in carrying the viewer along with him, as the dazzling visual panoply ultimately fails to disguise the fact that the characterisation is as wafer thin as a storyline that is frequently swamped by eccentricity and affectation.

Despite being too old for the role of Colin, Romain Duris is his usual charming self. Yet, while he charges through the action with the assurance of a sleepwalker, his co-stars often seen bemused by what is going on. Elmaleh and Maiga are particularly ill-served by the Partre subplot, which makes far less sense on screen than it does on the page, as Vian was a notable opponent of Jean-Paul Sartre and his brand of Existentialism, which he parodied with ruthless precision, along with the Army and the Catholic Church. But the typecast Tautou is the one left highest and driest by another elfin variation on Amélie Poulain that stubbornly refuses to come to life, in spite of the actress's winsomely best efforts.

Most ruinous, however, is Gondry's Gilliamesque decision to plump for stylistic overload over discreet selectivity, as Vian's delicately tragic love stories becomes increasingly baffling and exhausting, as Gondry stuffs it with preening instances of his imagination and ingenuity that seem to have been designed less to complement the narrative than to gainsay those who claim that source is unfilmable. Thus, even though there are odd moments of inspiration, Gondry repeatedly prioritises excess over emotion and, as a result, this is anything but `Froth on a Daydream'.

If Gondry occasionally strains for effect, Yann Gonzalez positively delights in pushing his luck in You and the Night. The action opens in a Cocteau-like dream sequence (complete with a mysterious biker) that introduces Ali (Kate Moran) and her eye-patched beloved, Matthias (Niels Schneider). They are preparing for an orgy with their transvestite maid, Udo (Nicolas Maury), who has plugged in the sensory jukebox that plays music befitting the mood of anyone who places their hand on its activation pad. The careworn Matthias doesn't enjoy these gatherings, but knows Ali derives pleasure from being with other men. He reveals that he has visited a dark place where children who died horrible deaths informed him that they are responsible for the world's calamities. But Ali implores him not to spoil the party and he promises to enter into the spirit.

The minimalist apartment is soon filled with guests, with The Stud (Eric Cantona) and The Teen (Alain Fabian Delon) arriving together, hot on the heels of The Slut (Julie Brémond). Ali notices that The Teen shares a scar on his lip with the motorcyclist from her dream. But her train of thought is interrupted by The Stud telling a rambling story about the poetic aspirations of his childhood being waylaid by the onset of puberty. Lamenting the fact that his prodigious member has made him its slave, he explains that he only just made the orgy, as he was arrested and chained inside a cell, so that the police chief (Béatrice Dalle) could force him to strip to his Y-fronts and crawl around on all fours while she cracked a whip.

Udo and The Slut struggle to suppress sniggers as The Stud describes how he got hold of the whip and brought the fur-bedecked chief to the verge of orgasm by thrashing at her. But, just as he is about to undo his trousers and show everyone the root of his problems, the doorbell rings and The Star (Fabienne Babe) whispers from the shadows that she wishes to caress everybody in the dark. The newcomer flits between the guests, kissing each one in turn before The Slut turns on the light and The Stud slaps her for disrespecting a heartfelt request.

Keen to get the gathering back on track, The Stud exposes his member and Udo falls to his knees while comparing it to a sleeping shepherd boy. As everyone takes a turn fondling The Stud, Matthias urges Ali to indulge every whim and The Slut regales the guests with a dream, in which her face was scarred and she wandered between naked statuesque men before finding solace at the bared breast of her mother (Cécile Martinez), who had died two years to the day.

No sooner has she finished than the doorbell rings. Udo answers and two cops (Dominique Bettenfeld and Frédéric Bayer Azem) ask if he has seen The Teen, as he is a runaway minor. The Star comes to the door and explains that she is the lady of the house and that she enjoys role-playing games with her maid whenever her husband is away. The policemen remains suspicious, but they are called away by headquarters and Udo demands that The Teen tells his story.

He insists that he feels too different to his parents to remain at home and claims to have found a sanctuary with some like-minded outcasts, who seek out sexual encounters for both comfort and excitement. As he speaks, Udo stimulates The Slut, who sprays The Stud as she orgasms. Enjoying being the centre of attention, she dances to some music. But, as it intensifies and the camera closes in for an extreme close-up, The Slut collapses and Matthias and The Teen rush to her side to reassure her that she is desirable. Spurning their sympathy, she demands that the hosts relate their history and Ali sighs that it will take some time to tell.

Matching a red circular wall ornament with the blazing sun of an unnamed land, the scene shifts to a stylised long ago where Ali and Matthias are blissfully happy lovers. However, war comes and Matthias rides off on his horse to his inevitable death. But, as Ali grieves in a grey graveyard, Udo appears and offers to resurrect Matthias on the condition that he can become part of their relationship. Ready to do anything to be reunited with her paramour, Ali agrees and writhes on the bed the following night, as Udo calls upon Lucifer to raise Matthias from the tomb. Ali is shocked to discover that Matthias has lost an eye, but Udo explains that Death always keeps a souvenir and they join in an embrace that has remained unbroken for centuries.

The Star scoffs at the fable and is chided by The Stud, who declares that they entitled to concoct any backstory they wish. Matthias claims to hear voices calling him from far away and sinks into Ali's arms, as he urges his hearers to embrace what they fear in order to find its beauty. Moved by his words, The Teen puts a song on the jukebox and The Star feels prompted to remove her short, blonde wig to reveal the mumsy hairstyle beneath.

Ali asks what is going to happen next, as a point-of-view shot winds along a wintry nocturnal road and deposits the guests on a coastal promontory. They stand in a line in bluish moonlight and The Stud opines that they have become immortal. The Teen asks Ali to undress him and Matthias joins their embrace in order to give the union his seal of approval. Knowing Ali has found a new love, Matthias backs away from the group, who suddenly find themselves seated in an abandoned cinema to watch one of The Star's films. She tells the assembled that she became besotted with her son (Louis-Orfeo Marin) and fought to consummate her lust. One night, however, he ordered her to wear her diamond dress and he blindfolded her before drawing her into a close embrace.

The dazzling light from the gown is match-cut with the projector beam as the cinema screen goes white. The Star confides to The Stud that the boy left home the next day and that she has since sought out orgies in the hope of finding him again. The Stud promises to protect her and The Star apologises for her earlier dismissal of his appendage. As they sit in the darkness, The Slut announces that the surrounding forest is filled with the spirits of the departed, who will manifest themselves if their name is called three times. She calls for her mother and there is an immediate knock on the apartment door. A storm blows in as it opens and a figure presents herself before The Slut, in the company of a cacophony of whispering voices.

Ali screams at the intensity of the moment and, as she lashes out, she shatters a mirror that seemed to be projecting the spectral creatures. A face momentarily stares back at her in the darkness and she rushes into the bedroom to find that Matthias has slashed his wrists. She pleads with him not to forget his promise to love her forever, but he fades away and Udo ushers the guests into the main room. As she laments his passing, Ali envisions them embracing in a starry sky. But she knows it is time to move on.

She returns to find the others asleep and wakes The Teen with a kiss. Slowly, everyone else rouses and joins the couple in sensual love-making that culminates in Ali realising that she can see Matthias in The Teen's eyes. As they depart into the icy blue dawn, The Stud curses that he will never see Ali again. But, as he gives her his jacket to keep her warm, she encourages him to take care of The Star. She exchanges a keepsake with The Teen, while Udo gives The Slut the tiara that sets off his maid's uniform. As The Teen (who reveals his name to be Sacha) starts to walk away into the softening light, Ali asks him to join their family and the camera lingers on his face as he ponders his reply.

With its snatches of pompous dialogue, mannered performances and instances of high camp and low-wattage eroticism, this would be an easy film to mock. But, for all its kitschy pretension and unintentional hilarity, this ends up being a rather sweet treatise on love, longing, memory, dreams, acceptance and death. The debuting Gonzalez claims to have produced an X-rated variation on the classic teenpic, The Breakfast Club (1985). But, while he has certainly borrowed its structure, he seems less indebted to John Hughes than he is to Jean Cocteau, Kenneth Anger, Jean Genet, Walerian Borowczyk, Paul Morrissey, François Ozon and Gregg Araki, as well as any number of giallo and Euro horror directors.

While keeping the main space dourly simple, production designer Sidney Dubois fashions some wonderfully evocative studio settings, which are moodily lit by cinematographer Simon Beaufils to create a sense of ethereality that is reinforced by M83's electronica score. The performances are game rather than convincing, with Moran and Babe managing the only credible emotion, while the others (including Alain Delon's first-timer son) largely get by on photogenicity. However, credit has to go to Cantona for struggling manfully with some ludicrous dialogue that make his infamous seagulls and sardines speech sound like something from Molière.

Having been acclaimed for the five shorts he has made since 2006, Gonzalez is clearly being touted as a talent on the cusp. Yet, while his visual acuity and stylistic audacity cannot be questioned, his screenwriting skills need honing. Moreover, he could do with collaborating with someone more rigorous than Rebecca Zlotowski, who appears to have been far too laissez-faire in acting as script consultant. Thus, while this shows promise, it lacks the mix of wit and sensibility that have made Quebecois wunderkind Xavier Dolan's early outings so strikingly original and unabashedly outrageous.

The emphasis is more firmly on the romantic in Grand Central, Zlotowski's follow-up to Belle Épine (2010), which reunites her with several cast members and also sees her exploring the dynamic within another close-knit community of outsiders. In her debut feature, the band were female motorcycle racers. But Zlotowski switches her attention this time to the unskilled workers detailed to carry out routine cleaning and maintenance work on a nuclear power station in the Rhône Valley. Making evocative use of an Austrian facility that was never used and shifting deftly between digital imagery for the industrial interiors and 35mm for the quotidian sequences, Zlotowski generates plenty of dramatic tension and sexual frisson. But the melodramatic comparisons between the clandestine lovers and the plant's potential dangers prove as enervating as the mediocre characterisation and the forced efforts to turn this into a latterday Western.

As Tahar Rahim travels without a ticket on the train to Cruas, he has his pocket picked by Johan Libéreau, who is also hoping to be hired by the nuclear plant that has been advertising for workers to undertake risky, but well-paid menial work. The pair become fast friends after Rahim gets his own back on the rascally Libéreau and they hook up with his pal Nahuel Pérez Biscayart while their applications are being processed. While drinking in a bar, Rahim impresses plant veterans Olivier Gourmet and Denis Ménochet by riding a mechanical bull and they offer him a bunk at their camper site outside the perimeter.

Gourmet is a worrier and cautions Rahim to follow the rules to the letter, as the materials they handle are toxic and levels of contamination can build up terrifyingly quickly. Ménochet recognises something of himself in Rahim and lends him some money while he is taking his aptitude tests. As he needs a character reference, Rahim pays a visit to estranged sister Margot Faure, who has heard the scare stories about nuclear power and tries to persuade him to find another job. However, he returns to Cruas, where he already feels that Gourmet and Ménochet are more supportive than his real family.

As they drink in the bar that night, Rahim is astonished to be kissed by a striking blonde, who informs him that the sensation he has just experienced is what a dose of radiation feels like. She sits on Ménochet's knee and he introduces Léa Seydoux as his fiancée. The following morning, Rahim, Libéreau and Pérez Biscayart learn that they have been accepted and they collect their hard hats, safety clothing and doseometers. Gourmet supervises them as they don the equipment for the first time and makes sure they know about its safe disposal at the end of each shift and the need to take a thorough shower.

The trio are nervous on entering the main hub for the first time and the sense of foreboding is exacerbated by the sound of their breathing apparatus and the eerie silence that hangs over the cooling pools. They watch as Ménochet goes out to the core in a special suit to retrieve a dropped tool and the supervisor confides that few men can match his courage. Still on tenterhooks, the newcomers are taken to the laundry where Seydoux works and Rahim stares at her through a protective grille. Gourmet also shows them the machine that tests the levels of radiation on their hands and warns them never to look round if the alarm goes off behind them, as the person involved wouldn't want to be stared at with his livelihood and health in jeopardy.

On payday, Seydoux invites a friend to join the boys on an outing in a flashy open-top car. They drive into the country with loud rap blaring and Seydoux and Rahim leave the others to wander along the riverbank. Once out of sight, they begin kissing among the bulrushes. But Seydoux is back on Ménochet's knee that night, as they sit under the stars listening to Camille Lellouche singing an old pop song about the perils of love.

The following day, Gourmet is involved in a scare and Rahim watches two workers arguing furiously about who is to blame for the leak. He is relieved when Gourmet is released unharmed, but is stung when he receives a clip around the ear for his conduct over a bottle of water and Gourmet reminds him that they are a team and that any breaches reflect badly on him. Vowing to keep his head down and his nose clean, Rahim goes to Ménochet's caravan to pay back his loan. Seydoux answers the door and tells him that she loves her man and would never dream of hurting him. Rahim nods, but they end up kissing passionately again that evening and they renew their vow to do the right thing by their mutual friend.

Some time later, Rahim and Libéreau are sent to repair a leak on an upper level and have to use climbing harnesses to reach the spot. However, they fail to complete the task in the allotted time and the pair are furious with each other as they drive home. Unable to sleep, Rahim goes for a walk and bumps into Seydoux smoking in the yard. He follows at a distance as she wanders along the riverbank and waits for him in a boat at the end of the jetty. They slip the mooring and find a quiet spot to make love. As she undresses, Seydoux goes to say something, but stops herself.

Despite taking the utmost care to avoid detection, Seydoux is spotted returning from one of her walks by Ménochet, who wonders where she has been. Rahim and his pals go to the zoo to look at the crocodiles and enjoy the freedom that a little money has afforded them. However, their work remains dangerous and Rahim risks his own safety to assist Ménochet when his oxygen line becomes entangled while they are operating pressurised water jets. He is applauded by his workmates. But, in biting through his pressure suit to allow Ménochet to breathe, Rahim also exposed him to the toxic atmosphere and receives a sizeable dose himself.

Doctor Nozha Khouadra informs Rahim that he has absorbed close to his limit and has him transferred to the green zone so he can keep working. He takes extra precautions to scrub up after each shift. But he doesn't take as much care with Seydoux and Khouadra not only breaks the news that she is pregnant, but also that she will have some explaining to do, as Ménochet has long been impotent through working at the plant. Seydoux conceals the truth from Rahim and they spend an idyllic afternoon together lying naked in the long grass. A siren blares out from the plant and she explains that the number of repeats denotes the severity of the emergency.

They get back to find Lellouche has had her hair shaved because she has been exposed and she begs Seydoux to put on her wedding dress to cheer her up and show daughter Kessy Magnary how beautiful she is going to be. However, health and safety officer Marie Berto comes to the camp and accuses Gourmet of letting standards slip. He counters by charging the company with hiring unskilled labour to cut costs and the simmering tension leads Rahim and Libéreau to fall out, with the latter threatening to tell Ménochet about the affair if the former reports the fact that he has been bending the rules by hiding his doseometer outside the core area to avoid giving accurate readings.

Anxious about Ménochet finding out about the baby and still not sure how to tell Rahim, Seydoux misses their next assignation. But, when they go for a group picnic, Ménochet notices the way she looks at Rahim and goes for a walk by himself. Seydoux follows him, while Rahim is splashing in the river with his mates, with the cooling towers looming large behind them. He watches as Seydoux catches up with Ménochet and insists that she only cheated on him so that they could become a proper family and begs him not to cancel the wedding. They kiss and Rahim is distraught and, that night, he tries to block his windows so he can't hear the sound of love-making coming from Ménochet's caravan.

A short while later, the lid comes off a tub that Rahim is carrying and its contents spill over Gourmet's back. He manages to remain calm, even though he knows he is destined for an excruciating cleansing ritual. Rahim is surprised not to have been contaminated and checks his body in the mirror at home and wonders whether the money is really worth this much aggravation. Gourmet has reached a similar conclusion and he tells Ménochet that he is going to quit. He urges him not to delay much longer either, as he has already lost his wife and daughters because he was almost addicted to the danger of the job.

The next day, Seydoux tells Rahim that she is going ahead with the wedding and that Ménochet has accepted the baby as his own. She begs him not to hate her, but more bad news awaits him at the plant, as Berto fires him for stashing his monitor and warns him that he could already be over the permitted level. He asks her if Ménochet reported him, but she refuses to reveal her sources. Before he leaves, Rahim calls to pay off the remainder of his debt and Ménochet notices the look that Rahim gives Seydoux as they pass each other.

Gourmet gets drunk on their wedding day and Lellouche wishes them well. But, as everyone celebrates, a red apple rolls off the table and drops into a narrow gully. It pours with rain that night and Rahim returns to the camp to implore Seydoux to leave with him. Furious at being disturbed on his wedding night and humiliated in front of his friends, Ménochet beats the living daylights out of Rahim as they roll around in the mud.

The following day, Seydoux wanders into a field of horses while still wearing her wedding dress. Rahim tries to get back into the plant, but he is stopped by security and urged to see the doctor. As he leaves the changing room, he sees Seydoux. She chases after him and hugs him and implores him to forgive her because she was scared. Suddenly, the siren goes off and they both know that something serious has happened when the seventh repetition rings out. As the film ends, Ménochet is seen riding the mechanical bull in slow motion and the audience is invited to speculate whether he has ended up alone.

Although the plot throws up numerous socio-political issues, Zlotowski and co-scenarist Gaëlle Macé always seem more interested in the ménage than the debates surrounding nuclear power. There are a few Loachian moments, most notably as Berto and Gourmet bicker over safety concerns and the exploitation of cheap, disposable labour. The sequences inside the reactor also disconcert in highlighting the precarious nature of the operation and the extent to which it can be catastrophically compromised by human error.

But this is not a message movie. Instead, it's an old-fashioned melodrama about a woman being tempted by a handsome newcomer to stray from the decent older fellow who has always protected her. Given Zlotowski's gender, this is a surprisingly reductive theme and she compounds her somewhat chauvinist approach by frequently depicting Seydoux in various states of undress without once exploring the nature or significance of her employment. Nevertheless, Seydoux invests her sketchy character with a modicum of personality and she sparks well with Rahim without ever quite convincing that theirs is a life-changing passion. As always, the charismatic Rahim is imposingly intense. But we learn little about the circumstances that make such a hazardous job seem worth the risk and it is only as Gourmet is about to leave the camp that anything is revealed about his fraught background.

Perhaps more thought might to have gone into these aspects of the picture instead of the rather self-conscious homages to the poetic realism of Jean Renoir and Jacques Becker. However, the technical side can't be faulted, with Georges Lechaptois's photography and Antoine Platteau's production design contrasting the sterile austerity of the plant with the shambolic cosiness of the camp. But even more impressive are Cédric Deloche's ethereal sound design and the pulsatingly spiky score by techno artist Robin Coudert, which blends pounding rhythms and discordant jazz riffs with a confidence and inventiveness that exceeds anything in the storyline.

Despite the near universal acclaim lavished upon it by the critics, Two Days, One Night has to be classed as one of Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne's least impressive achievements. Those who felt that The Kid on the Bike (2011) was a bit too soft around the edges in relocating Vittorio De Sica's Bicycle Thieves (1948) to recessional Wallonia will be even more disappointed by the feelgood socialism being peddled in this working-class saga, which has little of the suspense identified by adherents who seem to have been so dazzled by the fact that an Oscar-winning actress can play a plausible human being that they have blithely accepted the storyline contrivances because they are rooted in fact.

Make no mistake, this is an involving and provocative piece of work. But it feels more like Ken Loach's cosily sentimental Looking for Eric (2009) than harder-hitting Dardenne outings like Rosetta (1999), Le Fils (2002) and L'Enfant (2005). At times, it feels as though the brothers are striving for their own take on Jean Renoir's Popular Front classic, Le Crime de Monsieur Lange (1935). But, in spite of spending several weeks familiarising themselves and their cast with the workings of a small business to ensure the authenticity of the action, this seems like a credit crunch hybridisation of Sidney Lumet's 12 Angry Men (1957) and Martin Ritt's Norma Rae (1979) and one can easily imagine it being remade as a vehicle for someone like Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Mother of two Marion Cotillard is set to return to work after being treated for depression. However, on the Friday before she is due back at the small solar panel factory in the port town of Seraing, she receives a phone call from boss Batiste Sornin informing her that her contract has been cancelled. She is told that foreman Olivier Gourmet gathered the 16-strong workforce and asked them to vote between keeping Cotillard or hanging on to their annual €1000 bonus and picking up a little extra overtime in the company's bid to see off the increasingly stiff competition from Asia.

Unsurprisingly, all but two colleagues opted to protect their own interests and Cotillard is dismayed that what she took to be firm friendships counted for nothing when the chips were down. However, best mate Catherine Salée asks Sornin to give Cotillard the weekend to speak to her workmates and try to persuade them to vote differently in a secret ballot on Monday morning. Having just escaped the trap of welfare and public housing, husband Fabrizio Rongione is ready to back Cotillard all the way, as he knows his wage from a diner kitchen will be insufficient to support young children Pili Groyne and Simon Caudry. But Salée remains ready to rally to the cause, even though she warns Cotillard that feelings ran pretty high during the discussions and that she should expect some harsh words, as well as some reluctant support.

Instead of seeking pity, as she visits her comrades in their homes, Cotillard merely asks them to put themselves in her shoes. But, while some shrug and agree to support her, others refuse to even listen to her arguments, as they have husbands out of work. One man reveals that he needs the bonus to help pay for his daughter's tuition, while others protest that everyone has a right to protect their own interests when times are tough. Another woman avers that she has already put the money towards a new patio, while Yohan Zimmer throws a punch at Cotillard for daring to try and make him feel guilty about putting his family before her. Philippe Jeusette adopts an equally chauvinist approach.

But, even though she is surprised to discover that several colleagues have weekend cash in hand jobs to help pay their bills, Cotillard is determined to press on into Sunday. However, she the combined effects of a nightmare in which Caudry drowns and three consecutive rejections prompts her to swallow a handful of Xantax and Rongione only just gets her to the hospital in time to have her stomach pumped. Yet, within an hour, Cotillard is back on the trail and she gets a welcome boost when Christelle Cornil declares that she is going to support her friend because her plight caused a row that finally convinced her to leave her abusive husband.

Feeling more optimistic, Cotillard, Rongione and Cornil sing along with the 1964 Them track `Gloria' on the tinny car stereo and she gets to two more houses before she decides to call it a day. Yet, in spite of her efforts, the vote is tied on Monday morning. Sornin comes up with a compromise that would allow Cotillard to return to work after another period of recuperation. However, short-termer Serge Koto would have to lose his job to balance the books. Cotillard turns him down and leaves the premises with her head held high, as she has done the right thing, while also being justified in her protest.

So much attention has been paid to Cotillard's performance that it seems the only place to start our analysis. Screeds have been written about how courageously deglamorised she is with her scrunchied hair and cheap, coloured tank top, as though it was a feat of Method-like transformation for a beautiful woman to play a member of the proletariat. Judging the calibre of acting on mere physical plausibility is reductive in the extreme, especially when the reason for the Dardennes going for a star name rather than a lesser light or a non-professional is that they required an actress of Cotillard's ingenuity and integrity to make this difficult role credible. But there is nothing new in this. Roberto Rossellini cast Anna Magnani in Rome, Open City (1945) because he also needed proficient authenticity rather than typage.

Yet, while Cotillard ably holds the picture together, she cannot distract entirely from the melodramatic devices to which the Dardennes resort to keep their tale on track. The cosmopolitan nature of the workforce smacks of box-ticking, as an Arabic family and a black migrant are tossed in alongside old-fashioned neighbourly types and hostile bigots. But even more specious is the notion that a boss bent on downsizing and imposing flexible contracts would accede so readily to a single employer's request for a divisive and time-consuming re-ballot. Moreover, the script also cynically avoids any union involvement that could complicate matters, while the corny reliance on some High Noon-like suspense means that only a superficial attempt is made to explore the impact that modern working practices are having on traditional class unity.

As stated above, Cotillard is magnificent, as she lurches between domestic contentment, self-loathing, doubt, despair and determination. But some of the support playing is decidedly stiff and as unconvincing as the odd line of loaded dialogue, as the Dardennes strive to uphold both Renoir's maxim about everyone having their reasons and their own unshakeable belief in the fundamental goodness of ordinary people. Alain Marcoen's bustling handheld camerawork adds some much-needed gritty naturalism, as do Marie-Hélène Dozo's muscular editing, Igor Gabriel's acutely observed interiors and Maïra Ramedhan Levi's workaday costumes. But, otherwise, this comes across a touch too self-consciously as a topical morality tale rather than a slice of life being lived. If only there had been more moments like Cotillard's touching encounter with Koto in the launderette or with young father Timur Magomedgadzhiev, as he tries to coach a junior football team while acknowledge the help that Cotillard gave him while he was struggling to integrate.

Crime and punishment have never been the exclusive preserves of the lower classes and Paolo Virzi reveals the depths to which the Italian haute bourgeoisie are prepared to stoop in Human Capital. Renowned for his wit and intimacy, Virzi has long been the keenest commentator on all things Roman. But he shifts his attention to the Lombard elite in this adaptation of Stephen Amidon's admired novel, which relocates its simmering tale of greed, deceit, hypocrisy and lust from Connecticut to the prosperous town of Brianza. Moreover, by dividing the action into three chapters, each one of which focuses on a different character, Virzi and co-scenarists Francesco Bruni and Francesco Piccolo force the audience to concentrate on seemingly incidental details, whose significance becomes teasingly apparent as the skein re-ravels.

Six months before waiter Gianluca Di Lauro is knocked off his bike on his way home from a school function and left for dead at the side of a snowy country road, estate agent Fabrizio Bentivoglio drops teenage daughter Matilde Gioli at the luxurious hillside villa where boyfriend Guglielmo Pinelli lives with parents Fabrizio Gifuni and Valeria Bruni Tedeschi. Awestruck by the affluence, Bentivoglio wanders around the grounds and finds himself making a fourth at tennis with Gifuni and his business pals.

Gifuni is a hedge fund trader and the opportunistic Bentivoglio asks if he can invest in his latest scheme, as he is feeling the pinch as the recession starts to bite and needs a quick cash injection to keep his company out of the clutches of a rival run by Pia Engleberth. So, Bentivoglio mortgages his house and agency in order to secure a loan from banker pal Gigio Alberti and sinks €700,000 into Gifuni's project, without informing psychologist wife Valeria Golino, who has just broken the news that she is pregnant with twins

Half a year later, however, the investment has failed to pay off and Bentivoglio is avoiding calls from both Engleberth and Alberti. However, he is too self-obsessed to notice that Gifuni has also cooled towards him and he is busy trying to schmooze him at the school benefit when the distressed Golina insists on going to hospital because she is experiencing excruciating contractions.

Bentivoglio seeks reassurance from Gifuni the following day, but he is in the middle of a vital meeting and resents being asked to repay the stake when he is fighting for his financial life. Oblivious to the police activity on the road home, Bentivoglio tries to discover where Gioli has been since Golina entrusted her with her car at the school. But she is in too much of a hurry to speak to him and he is fielding a phone call from Engleberth when the police come looking for his daughter.

As the second chapter begins, Virzi turns to Bruni Tedeschi, who has been pampered into supineness by a husband who considers her more of a trophy than a companion. She spends her days being chauffeured between shops and is returning from buying antiques from close friend Silvia Cohen when she spots a rundown theatre and, recalling her days as an amateur actress, promises Franco Maino that she will do everything in her power to prevent it being converted into a bank. Gifuni is amused that his wife wants a project and agrees to bankroll the renovation. But Bruni Tedeschi quickly realises that she has her work cut out when she convenes a meeting of the trustees and is grateful for the encouragement of academic Luigi Lo Cascio, who has fond memories of her playing Juliet in her youth.

By the night of the school gala, Bruni Tedeschi has developed a crush on Lo Cascio and feels even closer to him when Gifuni informs her that he has already signed a contract to turn the theatre into flats. Consequently, after Pinelli fails to win a class prize and Gifuni stalks out in disgust, Bruni Tedeschi returns to her empty mansion and invites Lo Cascio to watch Carmelo Bene's Our Lady of the Turks (1968), which they are considering staging. As the film unspools in the basement cinema, however, Lo Cascio's hand creeps higher up Bruni Tedeschi's thigh and she is only prevented from succumbing to temptation by the sound of her drunken son crashing around the kitchen.

The following morning, Gifuni arrives back from a crisis meeting in Milan and warns his spouse that they stand on the brink of ruin. Seeking solace, Bruni Tedeschi pays a visit to Lo Cascio. But, when she tells him that the theatre dream is over and tearfully resists his clumsy advances, he accuses her of being a hopeless actress and a worthless tease. Suitably distraught to shout at a female motorist blocking the road, Bruni Tedeschi feels so wretched at taking her angst out on a stranger that she reverses to apologise.

She also tries to make-up with Pinelli after finding him in his bedroom with Gioli. But he is too busy cleaning inside of his SUV and touching up a scratch on the paintwork to listen to her prattling. However, Pinelli is soon protesting his innocence when Inspector Bebo Storti comes to ask whether he had driven home drunk from a party thrown by Cohen's twin sons. Yet, when Bruni Tedeschi looks in on him later, Pinelli disowns her for kissing Lo Cascio and she is even more dismayed when Cohen bars her from the shop for attempting to blame her kids for Pinelli's intoxicated antics.

As Bruni Tedeschi fears that her world is falling apart, Gioli retains her sang froid in the face of Storti's repeated assertion that Pinelli knocked Di Lauro off his bicycle. Virzi flashes back six months to reveal Pinelli showing off his new car to Gioli and she reacts angrily to his insistence on keeping up the charade that they are a couple. She is also appalled by Bentivoglio's gauche efforts to ingratiate himself with Gifuni and wonders why someone as grounded as Golino would want anything to do with him (even though she has some sympathy with him because of her mother's adultery).

While collecting some keys from Golino's surgery, Gioli bumps into Giovanni Anzaldo, who had been expelled from school for dealing drugs. He is one of Golino's patients and is so impressed by the lightning sketch he draws of her that she starts seeing him in secret, even though she thoroughly disapproves of his dubious relationship with sub-uncle Paolo Pierobon, who allowed him to take the rap for his crime. When Pinelli sulks after losing out on his prize, Gioli decides she has had enough of his brattishness and leaves the soirée to sleep with Anzaldo. However, she gets a call asking her to drive the inebriated Pinelli home and reluctantly agrees when Anzaldo asks to tag along for the ride.

He is blown away by the opulence of Cohen's property and begs Gioli to let him drive the SUV, while she takes Pinelli in her car. Anzaldo speeds off before she can stop him and he only reappears close to Pinelli's place. No sooner has Gioli deposited Pinelli on the doorstep, however, than Anzaldo confesses that he may have killed a cyclist and they see the ambulance arriving as they pass the spot on the road back to town. Unable to sleep and disturbed by the scars on Anzaldo's arms, Gioli goes to the hospital next morning and sees Di Lauro's wife telling a friend on the phone that he is going to die.

Desperate to protect Anzaldo, Gioli drops Golino's car keys back home and rushes round on her scooter to convince the impressionable Pinelli that one of Cohen's sons probably returned the SUV as a favour. She also calls to reassure Anzaldo, who is frantic with regret that he has ruined his one chance of happiness. Gioli promises him everything will be okay, but even she has her doubts as Storti vows to keep her in custody until she confesses that Pinelli was driving the car that killer Di Lauro.

Some may be frustrated by the decision to delay Anzaldo's appearance until so late in the piece and it does seem more than a little convenient for Gioli to keep up the pretence of romancing Pinelli when the conceit brings so few advantages. But Virzi goes some way to atoning by making such a neat job of tying up the loose ends in a coda that is positively brimful of melodramatic contrivances.

Prevented by the manipulative Pierobon from seeing Anzaldo after the news breaks that Di Lauro has died, Gioli storms home and starts writing an impassioned e-mail in which she promises her lover that she will never desert him. However, she leaves the document on screen as she takes a seemingly necessary shower and this allows Bentivoglio to discover the proof of Pinelli's innocence and attempt to use it to recoup his losses. Gifuni refuses his call, but Bruni Tedeschi is so determined to do whatever it takes to protect her child that she meets with Bentivoglio in the empty theatre and not only agrees to pay him €980,000, but she also accedes to his request for a French kiss.

While this tryst is taking place, Gioli confides in Golino, who is concerned for both her stepdaughter and her patient. They rush round to see Anzaldo, only to find emergency service vehicles in the street outside his home. Golino tries to gain admittance as his doctor, but Gioli bursts in silent slow-motion through the police cordon to see Anzaldo unconscious in his room after slashing his wrists. She is consoled by Golino, as the scene fades and Virzi sweeps us forward an unspecified period of time to a sunny day in the hills outside Brianza. Gifuni is hosting a party for his family and friends, having made a fortune from the credit crunch. But Bruni Tedeschi is far from impressed that he won a bet on the country's near-collapse and she has much less to look forward to than Gioli, who visits Anzaldo towards the end of his sentence for manslaughter.

A closing caption explains how insurance companies calculate human capital by taking into account such matters as life expectancy, earning power and the quantity and quality of any emotional bonds. But, Virzi is less scandalised by the paltry sum of €218, 976 paid in compensation for a humble waiter's death than by the fact that everyone else involved in his demise can shrug at the cheapness of existence and resume their own lives as though nothing untoward had happened. Claude Chabrol would be proud of Virzi, as he exposes the reprehensible preoccupation with status and surface appearance that drives the three principal male characters and laments the fact that their female counterparts lack the means or the wherewithal to oppose them.

But Virzi doesn't quite have Chabrol's way with suspense or restraint and this does drift perilously close on occasion to high-class soap opera. Nevertheless, Andrea Bottazzini and Mauro Radaelli's production design is as perfectly judged as Carlo Virzi's score, while cinematographers Jérôme Alméras and Simon Beaufils make astute use of the contrasts between the azure summer and the bleak midwinter. The performances are equally well attuned to the changing tone, with Gifuni and Bentivoglio amusingly seething respectively with macho loathing and bromantic envy, while Gioli's street cunning compares neatly with Golino's nurturing trust. The standout display, however, comes from the underrated Bruni Tedeschi, as she struggles with her insecurities before settling for the miserable comfort she realises she cannot survive without.

No wonder local politicians complained about this picture when it went on release in Italy. It would make a splendid conclusion to a triple bill also comprising Luca Guadagnino's I Am Love (2009) and Paolo Sorrentino's The Great Beauty (2013).