Parky at the Pictures: Reviews of A Woman's Life; Shiraz: A Romance of India; and Happy End

The estimable Stéphane Brizé follows up Not Here to Be Loved (2005), Mademoiselle Chambon (2009) and The Measure of a Man (2015) with A Woman's Life, an adaptation of Guy de Maupassant's first novel, Une Vie (1888).

Previously filmed with Maria Schell and Christian Marquand by Alexandre Astruc in 1958 - under its original title, although it was also known as End of Desire - this represents a surprising move from social realism into period refinement. But Brizé and cinematographer Antoine Héberlé make astute use of the boxy Academy ratio to curtail any heritage ostentation and keep the audience alert to significant events occurring beyond the frame.

Returning from her convent school to the idyllic country home of Baron Simon-Jacques Le Perthuis des Vauds (Jean-Pierre Darroussin) and his wife, Adélaïde (Yolande Moreau), Jeanne (Judith Chemla) enjoys helping out in the garden, playing backgammon with her mother and showing her sketches to her maid, Rosalie (Nina Meurisse).. One day, Abbé Picot (Olivier Perrier) brings the dashing, but impecunious Viscount Julien de Lamare (Swann Arlaud) to stay with the family and Jeanne quickly develops a crush.

Despite her parents worrying that she is marrying beneath her, Jeanne becomes Julien's wife and is touched by his promise to love her forever. But she is disappointed by the brusqueness of his love-making and hurt by his penny-pinching ways and proprietorial arrogance after her parents move out of their home to give them room to start a family. Moreover, she is crushed to discover that he has forced himself on Rosalie and that she is expecting his child. After she leaves service with her son, Picot attempts to mediate to save the marriage and Adélaïde coaxes the pregnant Jeanne into accepting Julien's tearful apology by stressing the importance of forgiveness.

Jeanne gives birth to her own son, Paul, and develops a friendship with neighbours Countess Gilberte de Fourville (Clotilde Hesme) and her husband Georges (Alain Beigel). Her parents spend more time at the house, although Adélaïde is ailing and unable to join in the lively game of croquet that seems to suggest that Jeanne and Julien have resolved their issues. However, shortly after her mother dies and she finds letters from a secret lover among her belongings, Jeanne discovers that Julien and Gilberte are having an affair and the new parish priest, Tolbiac (Father François-Xavier Ledoux), informs her that she is conspiring in the deception by not telling Georges that he is being cuckolded. Yet, when Jeanne refuses to send Georges a letter, the self-righteous priest breaks the news himself and Georges responds by killing the lovers before taking his own life.

Welcoming Simon-Jacques to her home, Jeanne lives quietly while the 12 year-old Paul (Rémi Bontemps) goes to boarding school. His unhappiness is evident when she visits, but her father insists that the child completes his studies and learns to stand on his own two feet. By the age of 20, however, Paul (Finnegan Oldfield) has run up substantial debts and, after a brief period at home, he runs away to London with his mistress vowing to make his mother proud by earning a fortune. He continues to live beyond his means, however, and communicates solely through begging letters, in which he threatens to kill himself unless Jeanne sends him funds.

By 1846, Jeanne is living alone in the increasingly rundown chateau, although the recently widowed Rosalie has become her companion. She has been living on a farm given to her by Simon-Jacques and refuses to accept wages for running the household. But, as a lawyer informs Jeanne, the sale of so many farms to pay Paul's debts, has left her with insufficient income to maintain the house. Thus, when he sends a request for a further 180,000 francs after the failure of his latest scheme, Jeanne feels duty bound to respond. But Rosalie urges her to reject the next missive and questions whether he has been left to raise an infant daughter following the death of his wife. The pair quarrel, as Jeanne accuses Rosalie of hiding her money. But she promises to travel to Paris to check out Paul's story and the film ends with the friends fussing over a sleeping baby and reminding each other that life is never as good or as bad as it may seem.

Although there is plenty of plot to fit in, Brizé, co-writer Florence Vignon and editor Anne Klotz cannily employ short scenes that allow the audience to become accustomed to the period conventions and the personalities of Jeanne and Julien. Initially, the symbolism is a little florid, while some might object to the frequent and occasionally jarring time shifts. But, as Jeanne's ordeal becomes more onerous, Brizé and Héberlé darken the rain-lashed imagery to reflect her growing melancholy, as her beloved mother and spoilt son let her down with their secrets and lies.

The ensemble playing is exemplary, with Judith Chemla outstanding in Madeline Fontaine costumes and make-up by Garance Van Rossum that emphasise the loss over 27 years of her youthful radiance and hope. Production designer Valérie Saradijan also makes effective use of the changing seasons, as the sun-dappled garden becomes a muddy quagmire and balmy sea breezes give way to fierce gales. Hervé Guyader's sound design also proves crucial in conveying the winds that keep buffeting Jeanne, while Olivier Baumont's piano score reinforces the hollowness of an existence that Brizé delineates with deft details rather than the sweeping gestures that so often undermine the authenticity of heritage pictures. Indeed, the power of the drama often comes from what Brizé opts to leave out, as in the case of Julien's betrayal, which is presented in long shot as he tries to calm Jeanne down in the darkened garden, while she evades his grasp in sobbing despair. The aftermath of Georges's murderous rampage is also delicately done, as Brizé shows life in all its grimness and glory, while also suggesting that too little has changed for women in the 135 since Maupassant published his tome.

A few years ago, the BFI restored Franz Osten's A Throw of Dice (1929) and it has returned to the archives for another of the German director's collaborations with one of the founding fathers of Bollywood, Himanshu Rai. Inspired by the building of the Taj Mahal, Shiraz: A Romance of India (1928) may not boast the most intricate of storylines. But the production values are exceptional, as is the new score composed by Anoushka Shankar, which deftly blends Eastern and Western musical styles to complement the imagery's cosmopolitan chic.

In the early 17th century, a caravan crossing the Great Persian Desert is attacked by bandits as it enters a gorge. As a skirmish develops, the driver of one camel tries to escape, as a toddler princess is travelling in the howdah on the beast's back. Her mother looks anxiously through the canopy curtains, but is powerless to protect her daughter, as brigands lever boulders from the mountainside to crush them.

Fortunately, the girl is unharmed and is found sitting on a rock by Hasan, an impoverished potter who saves the child from a lurking cobra and takes her back to his village. As Hasan returns, his wife learns from the fakir that their son, Shiraz, will enjoy immortal fame after a life of love and tragedy. The wise man also sees an amulet around the foundling's neck and exhorts Hasan to take great care of her, as she is beloved of Allah, and they name her Selima.

As the years pass, Shiraz (Himanshu Rai) falls in love with Selima (Enakshi Rama Rau) and carves her animal statues to show his devotion. However, Hasan reminds him of his fraternal duty and urges him to keep an eye on Selima when some slave traders see her drawing water at the well. They think she will fetch a good price at the market and overpower Shiraz, who is knocked unconscious and left clutching Selima's amulet. He summons his neighbours to pursue the kidnappers, but they refuse to go far without water and Shiraz is forced to carry on alone after Selima is taken to Al Kalab.

Arriving in the city in time to see Selima paraded on the dais, Shiraz protests that she is a free woman who has been abducted from her home. But no one pays him any heed, as Selima is sold for one thousand dinas to Kasim (Profulla Kumar), the Nazir of Khurram (Charu Roy), the Crown Prince of India. He lives in a fine palace with handmaidens to pander to his every whim.

When Kasim parades the new slave girls, Khurram is amused by Selima's refusal to prostrate herself and, much to the fury of besotted courtier, Dalia (Seeta Devi), he orders the Nazir to show her to her to the most luxurious quarters available. Denied entry to the palace, Shiraz offers his services to a potter in the town and bides his time.

Dalia has set her heart on marrying the prince and schemes with her servant, Kulsam (Maya Devi), to catch his eye. However, Khurram hears that she has been bragging to friends about their forthcoming engagement and warns her father, who a general in the palace guard, to ensure that she holds her tongue, as he disapproves of gossip and will not be railroaded into a match.

But he is also frustrated because the law forbids him to marry anyone not of noble birth and he knows that Selima is too chaste to give herself to him.

Each day, Shiraz comes to the palace to watch the merchants pass through the security gates with their wares. Admittance is only granted to those bearing a document sealed by Dalia's father and Shiraz despairs of ever getting past the guards. However, he persuades Kulsam to take a message to Selima and she is on her way to deliver it when she notices the newcomer walking by the fountains with the prince. Keen to please her mistress, Kulsam sees Selima rebuff Khurram's advances and rushes to show Dalia the note. As her father is about to leave for Delhi with his master, Dalia decides to use the seal to make a fake pass that will allow Shiraz to enter the palace.

She will then arrange for Kulsam to take him to Selima's rooms, where they will be caught together by the guards and she will be able to console Khurram in his distress.

Having kissed Selima goodbye, Khurram departs at the head of a grand procession of elephants, horses and soldiers. However, Dalia sends a messenger after him with an anonymous note revealing Selima's inconstancy. But her plan hits a snag when Shiraz forgets to take his pass back from the guard at the gates and Kulsam is concerned that it will fall into the wrong hands and Dalia's father will discover her deception. As time is of the essence, however, she escorts Shiraz to Selima's boudoir. She is surprised to see him and sees the disappointment in his eyes when she informs him that she is safe and happy. At that moment, Khurram bursts in and has Selima cast into a cell. He orders Shiraz to tell him how he got a pass into the palace and lines up all of the slaves in the lower hall so that Shiraz can point out the perpetrator. But he refuses to betray Kulsam and is sentenced to be crushed to death by an elephant.

While Selima prays for Shiraz's deliverance, Kulsam pleads with Dalia to help him for not identifying her. But Dalia realises that she can blame Kulsam for forging the pass and poisons her drink and rushes off to try on her finest jewellery to look good for the prince. However, as Shiraz is being chained to a board beside two pillars whose shadows must meet for the punishment to begin, Kulsam struggles into a corridor and alerts two female slaves to her need to stop the execution. They help her to the gate, beyond which a large crowd has gathered to witness the gory spectacle.

With her last breath, Kulsam tells Khurram that the forged document is still at the gatehouse and he orders a servant to fetch it before sending for Selima and Dalia. The sound of a horn reminds him to reprieve Shiraz, just as the elephant is raising its foot above his head. He is brought to the chamber, where Dalia is doing some quick thinking on seeing Kulsam's corpse on the floor.

However, the pass condemns her and Khurram refuses to accept that she acted out of love and banishes her from his empire.

When Shiraz arrives, Khurram apologises for putting him through such an ordeal. But the pain of Selima admitting she only loves him like a brother is much greater and he returns her amulet before turning to leave. The prince recognises the design, however, and calls for Asaf the soothsayer, who confirms that Selima is of royal birth because the trinket was given by the Empress Noor Jehan to her niece, Princess Arjumand, who died 18 years ago during an ambush in the desert. Thanking Shiraz, Khurram gives Selima the new name of Mumtaz Mahal and asks her to be his queen. While she assents, Shiraz rejects the precious stones and gems offered as a reward because they would not help him mend his broken heart.

On their wedding day, a cheering multitude greet the bride and groom. But, while Shiraz is happy for his childhood playmate, he cannot ignore his feelings and he comes to the palace every day for the next 18 years to peer through the tracery of the walls and see Selima walking in the gardens. After a while, his sight begins to fail, but he keeps up his vigil until the day that his beloved dies. As he crumples beside the locked palace gates, Khurram (who has assumed the title Shah Jehan) announces that he will erect a monument to commemorate Selima's beauty and invites all of the craftsmen in the kingdom to submit their designs.

Inspired by his love. Shiraz fashions a majestic temple and Khurram is enraptured. Yet, on meeting the creator, he orders Kasim to put out his eyes to prevent him from making anything else so beautiful. Shiraz is tied to a pillar and a hot spike is prepared. But the executioner realises that he is already blind and Khurram suddenly recognised Shiraz and praises Allah for guiding his hand to create such a worthy monument. He declares that they will work together on the project and we see the royal architects drawing up their plans before Khurram welcomes Shiraz to the Taj Mahal at Agra, which is shown in all its glory from a variety of angles.

Refusing to let the facts get in the way of a good story, screenwriter Niranjan Pal ladles on the melodrama in adapting his own play, which depicts Shah Jahan as a short-fused despot, who seeks to seduce Selima while knowing he can never marry her because of her lowly status and twice tries to harm Shiraz before fate intervenes. He also fails to develop Selima and Shiraz beyond being ciphers, with the result that Dalia and Kulsam are by far the most intriguing characters, as they hatch their fiendish plots and fall out over a point of honour. Yet Osten keeps the narrative rattling along and, in the process, vastly improves upon such previous German excursions to the subcontinent as Joe May's The Indian Tomb (1921), which was co-scripted by Thea von Harbou and Fritz Lang (who would remake the picture in 1959).

However, Osten is clearly more interested in the sumptuous mise-en-scène, which anticipates the stylised visuals concocted by Josef von Sternberg during his partnership with Marlene Dietrich.

Production designer Promode Nath fully exploits the architectural splendour at his disposal, while cinematographers Emil Schünemann and Henry Harris make evocative use of natural light to make the white stonework shimmer. Osten also brings a touch of grandeur to proceedings with the desert raid and the Delhi departure, while also swelling the crowd scenes. He also draws restrained performances from his cast, although there is little chemistry between Charu Roy and Enakshi Rama Rau.

Far more animated is Seeta Devi, whose real name was Renee Smith. Hailing from a prominent Anglo-Indian family, she had been spotted as a 15 year-old by Himanshu Rai, who had cast her as Princess Gopa in his first collaboration with Osten, The Light of Asia (1925). She would go on to play the heroine in A Throw of Dice, but stopped acting after appearing in Mistake (1928), Enchantress of India (1929) and Fatal Marriage (1930). By contrast, Osten, Pal and Rai would go on to form Bombay Talkies, which proved a key player in the early days of Bollywood, as Rai (who had been disowned by his influential Bengali family when he abandoned his legal studies to go on the Londonn stage) paired his wife, Devika Rani, with Ashok Kumar to form a popular romantic team in box-office hits like Osten's Achhut Kanya (1936). Shortly after Rai died in 1940, however, Osten was interned and deported as a potential threat to India's wartime security.

There has always been an admonitory element to Michael Haneke's cinema, as though the Austrian auteur was both raging at the follies, flaws and failings of the modern world, while also scolding the audience for needing a piece of entertainment to recognise them. Five years have passed since Haneke showed the softer side of his nature with Amour (2012) and many have seen Happy End as a valedictory summation of the themes that have preoccupied Haneke for the last three decades. Yet, while he does revisit such ideas as the future of Europe (The Seventh Continent, 1989), technology (Benny's Video, 1992), the invasion of space (Funny Games, 1997 & Time of the Wolf, 2003), immigration (Code Unknown, 2000), sexual expression (The Piano Teacher, 2001), surveillance (Hidden, 2005), sinister children (The White Ribbon, 2009) and euthanasia (Amour), this often feels more like Haneke is critiquing rather than justifying himself.

Consequently, this rigorous and remorselessly disconcerting domestic saga works as a darkly droll satire on both a canon and a continent, as well as a sly reproach to those who have attempted to pigeonhole Haneke and categorise his films.

The action opens with four scenes filmed with a smartphone. Each is accompanied by angry text messages, as they show Aurélia Petit completing her toilette before bed, a hamster named Pips being killed with anti-depressants, Petit putting something in the oven and the texter savouring the silence before calling an ambulance after her mother has lost consciousness. These narrow rectangular images are replaced by a wide-angled shot of a building site in Calais. The radio is playing and nothing remarkable appears to be happening until a wall collapses and some of the workers are trapped underneath.

We cut to property developer Isabelle Huppert in her car, as she postpones a rendezvous with financier fiancé Toby Jones in order to attend the scene. At dinner that night, she reprimands adult son Franz Rogowski for drinking too much and father Jean-Louis Trintignant asks if she can postpone their quarrel until they have finished eating. Huppert apologises, but protests that she is just being concerned for the well-being of her son and this prompts sister-in-law Laura Verlinden to announce that her infant son said `daddy' earlier in the day and she knows that this will delight her doctor husband, Mathieu Kassovitz.

His 12 year-old daughter, Fantine Harduin (the owner of the phone from the opening sequence), has accompanied her mother to the hospital and denies all knowledge of the pills she seems to have taken. She packs a couple of bags and moves into Trintignant's house and she allows Verlinden and Kassovitz to make a fuss of her before she goes to bed. The following morning, Huppert asks the Moroccan servants, Hassam Ghancy and Nabiha Akkari, to make up a room for Harduin and introduce her to the family dog, so they can start getting used to each other. She heads to the site to meet the accident inspector and ticks off Rogowski for making such an aggressive defence of their safety record and he is still sulking at supper when Trintignant asks why Harduin is eating with them. Huppert explains that she is staying while her mother is in hospital and Trintignant senses a kindred spirit, as he dourly welcomes her to the club.

Alone that night, Kassovitz exchanges kinky emails with an online mistress, while Huppert makes her regular call to Jones in London and Harduin watches trashy teen vlogs on her tablet.

She is still watching them the next day while the family awaits news of Trintignant, who has crept into the garage in his pyjamas and driven one of the firm's vans into a tree. Kassovitz gets home late with the news that he has broken his leg and a couple of ribs and he shares Huppert's concern that this is their father's latest attempt to kill himself.

Following another lengthy online chat involving Kassovitz and his lover, Loubna Abidar (whom we see briefly tapping away on her laptop in a darkened bedroom), we see Harduin filming her half-brother in his cot and she explain in a series of texts how she lost her older brother when she was five and now hopes she has found a replacement. Father and daughter go to the beach and Harduin has to go to the ice-cream counter alone when Kassovitz takes a phone call. As they walk back, she asks him if he loves Verlinden and wonders how he could have also loved Petit.

Momentarily stung, as if he suspects that Harduin has stumbled across his cyber adultery, Kassovitz reassures her that things are fine with Verlinden and tells Harduin how they met, as they wander back across the sand.

Meanwhile, Rogowski has been to see the son of one of the accident victims in a block of flats on the outskirts of Calais. The camera keeps a discreet distance as he rings the bell and has a brief word with the man who answers the door. However, he get punched in the face and kicked in the stomach for his pains and he staggers back to his car in a state of shock. Too embarrassed to come home, he hides out in a waterfront apartment belonging to the family. But Huppert tracks him down and asks why he got into a fight. She questions why he is drinking so heavily and he wishes she would leave him alone, as he knows he is too much of a screw-up to take over the family firm. That night, he goes to a karaoke bar and turns somersaults while singing. But he ends up crumpled on the stage.

Kassovitz and Harduin go to visit Petit in hospital, but she is still unconscious and Harduin seems unwilling to linger. Down in the town, Trintignant pushes himself along in a wheelchair.

He begins a conversation with a group of black men and a middle-aged white man intervenes to check he is okay. Having failed in his bid to goad some strangers into beating the living daylights out of him, Trintignant asks barber Dominque Besnahard if he would procure him a pistol or a supply of pills. However, he is too scared to go agree and Trintignant (who had been refused admission to a euthanasia clinic in Zurich the previous year for being too healthy) orders him to forget he asked and finish the haircut.

He is more enthusiastic when Huppert hires a gambiste to play at his 85th birthday party and she also introduces the guests to Harduin, who has to stand to a round of applause. Rogowski takes her into the garden to sample the buffet and she is embarrassed when Kassovitz draws everyone's attention to Akkari and her amazing cooking by jokingly referring to her as their `Moroccan slave'. Needing a distraction, Kassovitz sweeps Harduin indoors to wish Trintingnant many happy returns and he seems not to recognise her.

Huppert and Rogowski attend a hearing with the wife and son of the man injured in the accident.

They offer them compensation, but make it known that they have found a witness to the assault at the flats and will press charges if the family chooses to make trouble. Meanwhile, Harduin has wound up in hospital after taking some pills and, when Kassovitz tries to reassure her that he would never put her in a home, she accuses him of only loving himself and reveals that she has read all of his messages to Abidar. He contacts her to let her know that their secret has been discovered. But, rather than ending the relationship, Kassovitx suggests that they stop saving their threads and meet only at prearranged times so that they leave no incriminating evidence.

While Huppert and Jones are arranging a loan with his bank, Kassovitz asks Trintignant to have a word with Harduin. She is summoned to his study and he sits her down at his desk and shows her photographs of his late wife. He explains how much he loved her and, thus, when she became bedridden and started to suffer, he had no compunction in suffocating her. Harduin doesn't seem surprised and confesses to feeding tranquillisers to a girl at camp after she had been prescribed them to cope with Kassovitz leaving Petit. Suppressing a half-smile, Trintignant asks if she regretted her action and Harduin admits it was a mean thing to do, as the victim had done nothing to deserve it. However, when he inquires why she had tried to commit suicide, Harduin is less forthcoming. But he senses that they have forged a bond.

Shortly afterwards, Kassovitz is called in by Ghancy and Akkari because their dog has bitten their little daughter. He assures them that she will be fine and Huppert brings the child a box of chocolates to help her feel better. She shrugs when Ghancy offers his congratulations on her upcoming wedding and bundles her brother out of the servants' quarters. A little while later, Harduin tries to log on to her father's laptop and is peeved that he has changed the password.

Huppert and Jones get married and are dining in a sunny room overlooking the sea when Rogowski bursts in with some friends he has made at the Jungle detention camp. He pushes Jones away when he tries to silence him and he only stops shouting about the nightmares the migrants have to endure when Huppert breaks his fingers. While everyone is watching the spectacle of the strangers being seated, Trintignant asks Harduin to wheel him outside. He nods in the direction of the slipway and she struggles to control the chair, as the slope takes effect. She puts on the brakes at the water's edge and he orders her to leave him alone. Releasing the brake, Trintignant rolls into the sea and he braces himself for what he hopes will be his final moments.

But, as Harduin starts filming on her phone, Kassovitz and Huppert rush out to rescue their father and the action ends with the latter shooting a glance back at her niece, as though trying to work out why she would be videoing rather than helping.

Since its lukewarm reception at Cannes, Michael Haneke's twelfth feature has been dividing opinion. It's not one of his masterpieces, but it's certainly not a complacent rehash, either. There are moments when the mischievous ellipses recall the studied style of Eugène Green, while, at others, it almost seems as if Haneke is parodying those who have sought slavishly to emulate his distinctive approach to both framing and staging the action. He also appears to be teasing his admirers by giving Huppert and Trintignant's characters the same Laurent surname they had in mour, which also centred on a mercy killing.

But, while the strand involving Franz Rogowski feels somewhat contrived, Haneke has serious things to say about the social, economic and moral state of Europe, the family unit and the way in which social media is not only transforming the way we interact with each other, but also the way in which we respond to mundane and dramatic situations alike. He also dispels the myth that online communication brings people closer, as Kassovitz and Abidar's messages only serve to emphasise how far apart they really are. Similarly, we never learn where the sociopathic Harduin is posting her clips and ponderings, but Haneke almost seems to have banished exposition from this picture and many other viewer questions seem set to go unanswered.

Reuniting with longtime cinematographer Christian Berger, Haneke picks up the details dotted around Olivier Radot's splendidly atmospheric sets (with Trintignant's study being a particular delight) without ever straining for effect, as the tone switches between soap and satire. Monika Willi's editing and the performances are similarly well judged, with Huppert and Trintignant being matched by Belgian newcomer Fantine Harduin, who has a watchfulness that recalls the young Ana Torrent in Victor Erice's The Spirit of the Beehive (1973) and Carlos Saura's Cria Cuervos (1976).

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