This film is being screened this week in Marvejols and Saint-Chély-d’Apcher.
The sweet fantasy of Sophie Fillières (who died in 2024) will have been active until her last breath. She achieves with My life my mouth, a final farewell in the form of a melancholy and moving snub. Like all his films, this one is full of flaws, some ideas flop while other tiny details fizzle, but what matters is the lasting feeling of melancholy that grabs you, thanks especially to the last third. The belly flop is in the middle of the film.
Agnès Jaoui excellent
By filming his depression, Fillières poorly manages the line between absurdity and total despair and undermines the film which, in its first third was deliciously absurd and in its last will prove devastating. Before that, in fact, we happily find the meaning of very small situations, of absolutely unimportant things but which interweave the absurdity of life, with an excellent Jaoui in being overwhelmed, unadapted.
His latest film
The end of the film, for its part, becomes allegorical. We can see in this voluntary separation from his children, in this exile in an unknown land, in this choice of a small final territory as big as a grave, in this cameo of Philippe Katerine as a facetious smuggler, in this melancholy and this appeasement which then runs through the film, a symbolic image of the progressive erasure of the filmmaker, who signs her last film and knows that it will be the last.
This part, frankly devastating, makes up for the thirty minutes of boredom. We leave there with a taste that is both bitter and sweet in our mouths. Well done.
