When watching Carnet's third film, you'll be excused from drawing some obvious comparisons with the 1983 hit classic the Big Chill: not only the story of a group of friends gathering together for a holiday and ending up taking their skeletons out of the closets is a fairly familiar territory, but also the way the film itself is handled, with that mixture of comedy and drama and a constant (and most of the times fairly random) soundtrack of old American songs playing in the background. The film starts off with a spectacular piece of cinematic bravura: a one take wonder which serves as an introduction for the rest of the film (though I must confess it's so perfectly well choreographed that actually makes you expect the big surprise that's about to come). Unfortunately this perfectly well-timed sequence is a rather isolated example in an otherwise indulgent and over-long film. In fact, after the striking beginning it takes at least a good 30 minutes before the actual holiday (and the real film) starts. Thinking back at it, with hindsight, it would have been quite easy to cut all that part out and set it all up just during the holiday. It would have also brought the film down in length from those 154 minutes. Yes, the accident sequence was very good, but did we really need to see it ? But aside from few indulgences, once the film actually gets going it is a real delight. There are some individual very funny moments (the one where two friends get stranded on a boat gets my top marks…) and generally speaking the inter-relationship between all the various characters is beautifully portrayed and very well observed. Of course, the whole things couldn't be more French and, seen from the eyes of a foreigner, all the so-called clichés that you would expect from these sort of people seem to be there: from the hysterical dialogue, to the wine drinking, the talk about sex and to the fact that they could all end up in each other's bed… and just when you think you've seen it all, a man shows up with a baguette under his arm (really!). However none of that takes anything away from the genuinely affecting drama that unfolds under your eyes. And just like in "the big chill", underneath the surface and all the laughs, there's an impending sense of nostalgia that permeates the atmosphere. All the performances are top-notch; so much so that they make real even some of the most far-fetched situations. These could be friends who spent most of their life knowing each other. François Cluzet, resembling more and more Dustin Hoffman, gets some of the best lines: his storyline about a man who's just been told by his best friend that he's in love with him, is probably the most original and definitely the most entertaining. Everything else is pretty standard for this sort of "re-union" films and yet perfectly enjoyable and very engaging. But while some of the characters work better than others, sadly it's the women that are most two-dimensional (with the single exception of Marion Cotillard) to the point that more than an hour into the film I was still not quite sure about how many where actually there. The film runs slightly out of steam towards the final act where the dialogue becomes more forced and a certain tendency to give every character a cathartic moment starts to creep in. The tearful drawn-out ending to the notes of Nina Simone's version of "My Way", however moving, was probably a step too far and where subtlety really went out of the window. On the whole it felt like a very personal film made by a director who should have been kept more on a leash by a more watchful producer. There's absolutely no excuse for a film of this kind to be so long! And yet, despite all its weaknesses I'm still giving it a thumb up. Would I watch it again? Definitely not. But I certainly did enjoy it the first time around

"Little White Lies" goes a long way – at 154 minutes, an incredibly long way – for so very little. At its most fundamental level, it's about a group of people who come to realize at the most appropriate time that they're more concerned about themselves than they are about others, specifically their mutual friend, who lies in a hospital bed in critical condition. But this discovery isn't made until the final five minutes. Before then, all the lead characters are embroiled in incidental relationship odysseys, all of which are examined at such a distance that it's virtually impossible to become emotionally invested. It doesn't help that the characters themselves aren't that well developed; they're given plenty of dialogue and situations to work their way through, but never once does it seem as if we're getting to know them.

Kick starting the plot is a man named Ludo (Jean Dujardin), who exits a nightclub in Paris high on cocaine, drives away on his motorcycle, and is soon thereafter rammed by a truck. His friends soon hear about it and pay him a visit in the hospital, where of course they do and say the appropriate things. The visit ends, and although it's obvious that Ludo is fighting for his life, the friends decide that they should stick to their normal routine and take their annual two-week lakeside summer vacation. It isn't until the final act that they all watch one of their home movies, staring at Ludo and his larger-than-life antics nostalgically; that, coupled with a very predictable turn of events, finally awakens the friends to the fact that they aren't the most thoughtful of people and made a huge mistake going on this vacation.

These opening and closing segments are every bit as routine as they sound, but we can still give writer/director Guillaume Canet credit for having his heart in the right place. Unfortunately, both segments are separated by a long, meandering middle section devoted to subplots involving the personal lives of the friends. Apart from the fact that almost none of their stories have anything to do with the character of Ludo, most of them are coldly developed and disappointingly resolved. A vast majority of the relationship drama happens at the vacation home of Max (François Cluzet), a wealthy restaurateur so uptight and controlling that it's a wonder anyone would stay friends with him, let alone go on vacation with him annually. And don't get me started on the fact that his wife, Véro (Valérie Bonneton), can actually put up with him.

One of the subplots begins when Max's friend and personal chiropractor, Vincent (Benoît Magimel), admits to Max that his feelings for him have grown into a physical attraction. Vincent is aware that Max doesn't feel the same way, is apparently content with being only his friend, and remains tactful during the vacation. Max, on the other hand, becomes even more of a nervous wreck and is driven to extremes that are initially amusing but eventually become cruel. At the heart of the matter, of course, is that Vincent, a husband and father, is in denial about his homosexuality and had clearly not taken Max's mental state into consideration when deciding to join him at his summer home – with his wife and children. It's a compelling idea, but the way this movie handles it, it's one of many subplots that doesn't get off to a great start and isn't allowed to go anywhere.

We meet an actor named Eric (Gilles Lellouche) and a young man named Antoine (Laurent Lafitte), both struggling in the romance department. The former is in a loudmouth and is well aware that he hasn't been able to commit and can't start now. Why then does he get so upset when his relationship with an opera singer named Lea (Louise Monot) suddenly ends? The latter is fixated on a mostly unseen woman named Juliette (Anne Marivin), who, despite her eleven-year relationship with Antoine, is engaged to another man. Antoine hangs on every text she sends him and is so annoyingly one-tracked that he has to tell everyone about them at all times. The biggest enigma is Marie (Marion Cotillard), whose dating dramas are so faintly alluded to that their inclusions are baffling. It's strongly suggested that she was an item with Ludo, yet she's briefly joined at the summer house by a handsome musician. And what are we to make of an early scene during Antoine's birthday party, where a woman enters the restaurant, has a few tense words with Marie, and then exits both the restaurant and the film?

The film, released in its native France in late 2010 but only now reaching American audiences, has been billed in part as a comedy. I'm not exactly sure why; there are one or two obviously funny sight gags, but on the whole, the lighter moments are so subtle and low key that they're likely to go completely over the heads of the audience. Of course, labeling it purely as a drama wouldn't have saved it from being slow and unrewarding. "Little White Lies" is well intentioned but terribly unsure of itself, spending far too much time on secondary vignettes and not enough time on the main story. Before the final act and the obligatory emotional resolution, there came a point at which I began to wonder why the Dujardin character was introduced at all. He was barely brought up during the two-hour middle section, which suggests the filmmakers were just as unmindful of him as his friends.

-- Chris Pandolfi (www.atatheaternearyou.net)

Let me start of by saying: Do not watch this because you want to see Jean Dujardin! Since he won the Oscar a couple of months ago, I'm pretty sure the demand on his movies has been increased. But this is not a Dujardin vehicle. While his character is pivotal to the whole story, he himself will not appear in it for a long period of time. I didn't count the minutes, but his screen presence does not warrant you to watch it for him alone.

Having said that, I do hope you watch it for what it is and all the other wonderful french actors that are in it. One of them being his "partner-in-crime" in his newest movie (L'Infidels). The story consists of every character having something inside them, wanting to burst out. Some are subtle about it and some are not. I think the character who is the loudest might feel to be the most annoying one, but the actor walks the fine line of still making him sympathetic enough for us to care. A really good drama, that will find it's audience.