Marie-josee Croze

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The 65th Berlin International Film Festival -'Everything Will Be Fine'

Marie-Josée Croze - The 65th Berlin International Film Festival -'Everything Will Be Fine' - Arrivals - Berlin, Germany - Tuesday 10th February 2015

Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze

The 65th Berlin Film Festival/Berlinale 2015 - 'Everything Will Be Fine' - Arrivals

Wim Wenders, Charlotte Gainsbourg, James Franco, Robert Naylor and Marie-Josée Croze - The 65th Berlin Film Festival/Berlinale 2015 - 'Everything Will Be Fine' - Arrivals - Berlin, Germany - Tuesday 10th February 2015

Wim Wenders and Donata Wenders
Wim Wenders, Charlotte Gainsbourg, James Franco, Robert Naylor and Marie-Josée Croze
Wim Wenders, Charlotte Gainsbourg, James Franco, Robert Naylor and Marie-Josée Croze
Wim Wenders and Donata Wenders
Wim Wenders and Donata Wenders

BIFF - Everything Will Be Fine - Photocall

Marie-Josee Croze - A host of stars were photgrpahed as they attended a photcall at the 65th Berlin International Film Festival for 'Everything Will Be Fine' in Berlin, Germany - Tuesday 10th February 2015

Marie-Josee Croze
Marie-Josee Croze
James Franco and Marie-Josee Croze
Marie-Josee Croze
Marie-Josee Croze

BIFF- Everything Will Be Fine - Photocall

Marie-Josée Croze - 65th Berlin International Film Festival (Berlinale) - Everything Will Be Fine - Photocall at the Grand Hyatt Hotel - Berlin, Germany - Tuesday 10th February 2015

Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze
Marie-Josée Croze

Calvary Review


Excellent

After the 2011 black comedy The Guard, Brendan Gleeson reteams with writer-director John Michael McDonagh for a darker comical drama grappling with issues of faith and forgiveness. McDonagh's usual jagged dialogue and snappy characters are on-hand in abundance while the film digs deep through a rather meandering, episodic plot.

In rural Ireland, Father James (Brendan Gleeson) is quietly enduring confessionals when one of his parishioners says he's going to kill him next Sunday. Shaken, James begins to explore his faith and mortality over the coming week. His daughter Fiona (Kelly Reilly) arrives following another suicide attempt, and he consoles a grieving French visitor (Marie-Josee Croze) and visits an imprisoned killer (Domhnall Gleeson). But almost anyone in the village could be the aspiring murderer: the over-emotional butcher (Chris O'Dowd), drug-addict doctor (Aidan Gillen), ladies-man African (Isaach De Bankole), shifty millionaire (Dylan Moran), eccentric fisherman (M. Emmet Walsh).

Intriguingly, it never really matters who issued the threat (James has a pretty good idea), because that's not the point of the film. McDonagh is exploring bigger ideas here, adeptly mixing riotously funny dialogue with startlingly bleak emotions. The film's languid pace nearly lulls us to sleep, then wakes us up with another sparky scene-stealing performance from the gifted cast. Gleeson is wonderfully muted, expressing more with an exhausted sigh than most actors can manage with a Shakespearean monologue. His moments with Reilly crackle with honest emotion, and the deceptively simple scene between father and son actors Brendan and Domhnall is a heart-stopper.

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Tell No One Review


Weak
Sometimes it requires the eyes of a foreigner to make the old new again. In adapting American crime writer Harlan Coben's 2001 novel Tell No One, French filmmaker Guillaume Canet brings a distancing Gallic fracturedness to a straightforward mystery. By doing so, Canet adds layers that probably weren't there in the original story but also puts us at a distance from its more pulp elements, which are left adrift in this calmly-paced homage to Hitchcock's wrong-man scenarios. An odd policier, Tell No One isn't without its rewards, but is also certainly not without problems.

Unfolding with fecund ripeness in a long and languorous day and evening in the French countryside, where some siblings and their respective others share a meal and sharp-edged conversation at the old family house, the film plays with the notion of barely-concealed secrets and a hint of rottenness. When Alex Beck (Francois Cluzet) chases his wife Margot (Marie-Josee Croze) through a forested pathway lined with lushly blooming flowers, the scene is romantic but weighted with death -- it wouldn't surprise you to find out that the soil was so rich due to bodies being buried there. Like the childhood sweethearts they once were, Alex and Margot swim playfully in a small pond and then coil up naked in the warm night air on a floating raft. She goes ashore; there are sounds of a struggle. Alex, panicked, swims for the dock only to get whacked unconscious by an unseen assailant.

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Picture - Marie-Josee Croze New York City, USA, Tuesday 15th January 2008

Marie-Josee Croze Tuesday 15th January 2008 2008 National Board of Review Awards at Cipriani - Inside Arrivals New York City, USA

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly Review


Excellent
Jean-Dominique Bauby, Jean-Do to his loved ones, was an editor for the Parisian branch of Elle magazine before he suffered a stroke at 43 and became completely paralyzed save one eye. A playboy of sorts, he was also a great father, an irresponsible husband, and an excellent writer. Suffering from locked-in syndrome and communicating via a visual alphabet, Bauby dictated his abstract yet wholly absorbing account of his days trapped inside his own body, which he equates with living in a diving bell. His account became an autobiography of sorts and was published two days before he succumbed to heart failure.

Julian Schnabel's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly takes its title from said book, and, like its source material, the film has a spiffy discordance to it. When Bauby (the great Mathieu Amalric) opens his eyes, so does the camera, and we are struck by the light in the same petrified and blurry way that Bauby is. Manipulated to Brakhage-like lengths, the image has the same effect as Jean-Do's fumbling voiceover; we are as unsure of his footing as he is. His pleading to not sew up an eye threatened by infection becomes our begging; we don't want to lose the slight view we have. Then, with little preparation, we aren't with the protagonist anymore, and we are looking at a frozen, terminally-twitched face in a hospital bed.

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Ararat Review


OK
Life must be a nonstop party at the old Egoyan homestead. Our pal Atom comes home, tired from a long day's work, sits down for dinner with his wife Arsinée Khanjian, and finally they retire to the living room... where they get to discuss Armenia at length.

Atom Egoyan, the avant-garde Canadian filmmaker born in Egypt to Armenian parents, has a chip on his shoulder the size of the Great White North. And that chip is Armenia. Obviously harboring a deep guilt for his living high on the hog in the West while his ancestors were massacred in the motherland, Egoyan never misses a chance to revisit Armenia as a theme in his films -- even if, say, it's a movie about a strip club and a dead girl (Exotica). And invariably Egoyan casts his wife Khanjian as an Armenian of some sort, always taking the time to let us know she's Armenian with the subtext that she should be pitied.

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The Barbarian Invasions Review


Excellent
Odd companionship makes for great human drama. Some of the finest films about relationships have, at their center, a strange pairing of souls (Kieslowski's Red and Harold and Maude immediately come to mind). French-Canadian filmmaker Denys Arcand understands the curiosity from such chemistry; so, he gives us the unlikely connection between a dying intellectual and a waifish heroin addict for his thought-provoking The Barbarian Invasions. And that's just a peripheral story.

Arcand is too experienced to be satisfied with this singular friendship as a focal point. Instead, it's just one of the delicate links that the veteran writer/director examines in this tale that briskly comments on everything from healthcare to ethics to today's Christianity.

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Battlefield Earth Review


Unbearable
There are two things the American film industry should avoid at all costs. One is letting an ambitious actor convert one of his or her favorite novels into a feature film. Two is never greenlight a sci-fi film starring John Travolta. To wit, we present the disaster that is Battlefield Earth.

A science-fiction opus starring the Barbarino of the Actors Guild, Battlefield Earth should be shown only at maximum-security prisons when a prisoner is tossed in solitary for bad behavior. Sci-fi is always a tricky beast: Tight script, a good director, an ensemble cast of decent actors, and the ability to suspend even the most difficult of disbeliefs. Battlefield Earth fails at achieving even one of these attributes.

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The Barbarian Invasions Review


Good

In Denys Arcand's "The Barbarian Invasions," the bald, flabby, bespectacled Remy (Remy Girard) is slowly dying. He never makes a miraculous recovery, nor does he renounce his sinful lifestyle, nor does he leave behind a fortune for his friends and family to enjoy. He's a goner.

How difficult it must be to get producers to finance a film about death, not to mention getting audiences to pay to see a film about death.

The reason "The Barbarian Invasions" succeeds is because -- to quote an old critical chestnut -- it's really about life.

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Ararat Review


Weak

Writer-director Atom Egoyan's heartfelt passion project "Ararat" is an abstractly structured account of both the 1915-1923 Armenian genocide at the hands of the Ottoman Turks and the massacre's emotional reverberation in the descendants of its survivors.

It's an immense, dark chapter in world history, the gravity of which has never been given its due, especially in the West. As a character in the film points out, even Aldoph Hitler said, "Who remembers the extermination of the Armenians?" when lobbying reluctant underlings to continue with the Holocaust. And Turkey still denies the slaughter took place, despite evidence and eyewitness accounts to the contrary.

Such accounts and denials are an integral part of the truth and shadow at play in this movie, which weaves five stories from three time periods into an intricate elliptical narrative that is sometimes powerfully distressing, sometimes overly contrived and sometimes downright confounding.

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