Lots to like about this film. Use of non-actors gave it a superbly involving real-life feel. Very balanced portrayal of "ethnic minority in society" issues. Nice ensemble writing which didn't leave me wanting to know who the protagonist was. The central character Slimane was an oldish grafter who was rather tired of life: his story was mainly about his attempts to leave something behind for the next generation: perhaps an underexplored area for film. Fantastic acting by (pro) Hafsia Herzi who is going to be a big big star. Main drawback is the editing. I'm perfectly capable of dealing with gently-paced films which allow the audience to observe the characters intimately, as if eavesdropping. I just think this took it a bit far. I'm surprised the distributors didn't insist on shortening it.

In his sixties, Slimane (Habib Boufares) is a disillusioned and tired man and, since his divorce from his wife, he has become a kind of free electron within his microcosm reduced to a community from North Africa. After an abrupt dismissal from the shipyard of the port of Sète, he quickly and naturally feels a sense of uselessness until having the unexpected idea and the strong desire to open a couscous restaurant, on a boat destined to scrap. His whole universe (family and friends) will progressively weld around this project which has become for everyone the symbol of a quest for a better life.

The director Abdellatif Kechiche is a perfectionist and creates with La graine et le mulet (2007) a film of atmosphere. It obviously takes time to describe the environment, the characters, the relationships between them, the issues, ... and thus allow the audience to immerse themselves in a universe that is not necessarily his (mine in all case): this is also the magic of cinema. Thus, the pace is deliberately slow, even very slow, with some scenes that may seem disproportionately long or even unnecessary. Nevertheless, from the beginning to the end, I was in total empathy with this Slimane.

As a synthesis: a movie as endearing as moving, as poignant as revitalizing. 7/8 of 10

Abdel Kechiche's tragicomedy is a film of contradictions and contrasts. It is both quiet and boisterous, with a script that is both understated and energetic, and which explores (among other things) how communities both accept immigrants, and yet remain suspicious of them.

Couscous follows sixty-something Slimane Beiji, a Tunisian-French shipyard worker in the French port town of Sète, played with reserved dignity by Habib Boufares. Despite being divorced, Slimane still spends a lot of time with his ex-wife and their extended family. The rest of his time is spent with his girlfriend and her daughter, who own a quayside hotel.

When Slimane is laid off, it comes as the last straw in a life that has become increasingly redundant. Left with nothing to lose, he hits upon the idea of opening a restaurant on an old boat. The project becomes a focal point for Slimane's extended family: his sons lend a hand with the boat's renovation; his girlfriend's daughter helps acquiring the necessary bank loans and official documents; and his ex-wife will cook the restaurants signature dish – the eponymous couscous.

The restaurant works as a symbol of the hopes and dreams of immigrants – how all they want is to integrate and work in their new community, whilst still retaining the culture and customs of their homeland. But it also signifies the duality of a community's attitude toward immigrants. During a party thrown to promote Slimane's restaurant, the guests all compliment their host and try their hand at a little Arabic; and yet, when Slimane's back is turned, they whisper amongst themselves that "he's not from around here." But Couscous really shines in its extended scenes of dialogue. At several points during the film we join Slimane and his family as they sit in kitchens or dining rooms and do nothing but talk. And it is a joy to watch. The script shows an eye for authentic dialogue, meandering through topics as diverse as racism in the workplace, the extortionate price of nappies, and using Arabic in the bedroom. The genuine performances from the supporting cast draw us further into these scenes, and the cinematography keeps us there. The camera squeezes between family members, getting the kind of intimate close-ups that give a real impression of a loud family dinner.

This light-hearted attitude, present in the early scenes, contrasts with a grimmer final third, in which situations get progressively worse. And as things get worse, family relationships start to break down.

This also reveals the film's ultimate irony. Slimane's family is a close-knit unit when the members each live separate lives. But when the restaurant brings them together, family unity dissolves and they resort to serious bickering.