Anne Fontaine’s Adore is a piece of tripe. Not only is it
the worst film I’ve seen from this year, it is hands down the worst film I’ve
seen all year. The film opens with two girls running in the woods, as if they
were the last two inhabitants of planet Utopia. Underscoring this scene
sequence is a pleasant, playful music. The two girls find their way into a
deserted beach and soak it up in the sea. They stare into each other’s eyes and
smile. The scene transitions smoothly to the two of them about fifteen years
later. They’re still staring at each other. This transition seems to say that
their bond remains just as strong and isn’t bound by time. The women have their
own sons now. Lil’s (Naomi Watts) husband dies in a car crash while Roz’s
(Robin Wright) husband jokes about it with Lil’s fellow employee at the funeral.
As we’re taken through their lives, we find out that Roz’s
husband Harold, who suspects a lesbian relationship shared between the two
women, feels excluded from his own family, which, by now, includes Lil and her
son. This reasonable fear sends the two women roaring with laughter while
allowing them to bond with each other over deriding the male species. “Bloody
men,” they conclude. Film-maker Fontaine’s characters share the same juvenile
worldview as she demonstrates in Adore.
