I’d like to preface this review with a question I haven’t quite figured out the answer to; would I have enjoyed Heartbreaker quite so much if it hadn’t been French? I’m not entirely sure…This is after all quite a standard issue rom-com. A devilishly handsome man who makes his living breaking up relationships finds himself falling for his latest quarry, leading to an attack of conscience and the inevitable happy ending. So far, so Hollywood.
If Heartbreaker had been set in sunny California and had starred Katherine Heigl and Ashton Kutcher I’m sure I would have found the whole thing hateful but as it is, Heartbreaker has the kind of charm and exuberance that has been missing for a long time from the Hollywood romantic comedy.
Romain Duris (following on from his more serious roles in things like Jacques Audiard’s The Beat That My Heart Skipped) and Vanessa Paradis (following on from…er Joe Le Taxi) have a nice chemistry and both throw themselves into their roles with aplomb. I personally tend to have trouble with French comedies and their affection for slapstick but here the almost cartoonish violence that is scattered throughout the film is balanced by a sparky script and some entertaining supporting turns from Julie Ferrier and Francois Damiens.
Heartbreaker is as slick and glossy as one would hope; with the polished and at times frenetic direction from Pascal Chaumeil showing Monte Carlo at its opulent best. Meanwhile, the designer labels which seem to be de rigueur these days are all present and correct in both Paradis’ and Duris’ wardrobes but this aspect is gratifyingly understated, making the rabid consumerism of recent hit Sex and the City 2 look ever more desperate in comparison.
Since it’s World Cup season, the cinema schedules are fit to bursting with films designed to cater for “football widows”. Heartbreaker then, has a lot of competition and as a subtitled film unfortunately it could fall through the cracks. This would be a shame. It may not be re-inventing the wheel but it’s still a class act.