Essential work of Marguerite Duras, The pain is a book partly autobiographical taking place during the Occupation. A heavy book that is transformed into 33 tons by Emmanuel Finkiel and his two monotonous comedians who are out of breath from the first scene.
A book in the movie, a movie in the movie. Mélanie Thierry's voice over tells us whole passages of the book as the film progresses. We read what we see and vice versa. The result is without appeal: a total absence of tension, two languorous and repetitive hours. Some strident flights of violins tickle the viewer's ear as if to remind him that it is supposed to follow this vaporous intrigue. What time of the Occupation do we have to deal with? Impossible to guess. What is the meaning of this platonic connection between Magimel and Thierry? Vain.
We wait. Melanie Thierry is waiting for her husband. She tells us in her sober and dry voice that she is waiting for her husband just in case we did not fully understand that she was waiting. Magimel disappears from the plot as if by magic, no doubt tired of this clumsy and uninteresting role. The staging is a vague, permanent imprecision, as if to hide an empty backdrop of substance, life and envy. The film, like the Parisians under the Occupation, is restricted.
We land fast but unfortunately for us there are two hours of pain to wait. A first part without passion, a second without discoveries. Apology of intersexuality.