Before Jodie Foster’s Lilian can figure out what to do with a sudden opening in her agenda — Paula (Virgine Efira) has missed a third consecutive session — one of her other patients shows up unannounced. Pierre (Noam Morgensztern) started seeing the renowned psychiatrist nearly a decade ago as a byproduct of his search to quit smoking, and now, after all these years, he has seemingly done so, but not thanks to his nearly forty-thousand dollars spent in therapy. As he tells it, all it took was half an hour with a hypnotist. Stopping short of accusing Lilian of being a hack (but suing her for refunds all the same), he represents the first is a series of events that will lead her to rethinking her whole profession, if not her entire life.
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“A Private Life”, Rebecca Zlotowski’s delightful and whimsical film, disguises this personal journey as a crime mystery when Paula’s disappearance is revealed to be her untimely death. At first ruled as a suicide, the fatality is, to Lilian, somewhat unnerving at first, but once the doctor talks to deceased’s husband (Mathieu Amalric as Simon) and daughter (Luàna Bajrami as Valérie), it takes a turn for the suspicious. With varying degrees of antagonism, both grievers hold Lilian responsible for what happened, either because she didn’t notice any suicidal hints in her talks with Paula, or due to the fact that she used the drugs prescribed by her shrink to kill herself. Regardless, this sets Lilian in motion. Surely, she thinks, she would have noticed if Paula was that depressed. There must have been foul-play.
So begins what amounts to not-too-funny, not-too-dramatic dramedy that finds its charm in Foster’s willingness to play an increasingly neurotic therapist who will do anything but go to therapy herself, a stubbornness that grows worse when we discover that Frederick Wiseman is playing her former psychiatrist and teacher. The 90-year old cinema legend is not a professional himself, but carries enough weight to elevate the role beyond a simple cameo. Regardless, Lilian ignores him and starts jumping around France in search of clues. Doing so, Lilian starts reconnecting with her ex-husband Gabriel (Daniel Auteuil) but keeps avoiding her son, and recent father himself, Julien (Vincent Lacoste), with whom she has a complicated relationship. Needless to say, all this baggage will be put into question as Zlotowski, Anne Berest and Gaëlle Macé’s light and bright script uses the investigation as the pretext to give Foster’s near perfect French — “A Private Life” premiered at Cannes, but Johnny Depp in “Jeanne du Barry,” this is not — plenty of great dialogue partners.
Of these, none are better than Auteuil, with whom Foster shares a comical and romantic chemistry that fuels the movie’s pleasures even when the mystery’s few narrative hooks have already tired themselves out. Sure, we are curious to find out who broke into her office and stole the cassette tape (she records everything on a format so outdated, every new package costs hundreds of euros) containing her final conversation with Paula, but primarily because the search for the recording allows Lilian to drive around, drink and hang out with Gabriel, an eye-doctor who genuinely wants to ease her paranoia, but not so much so that he is willing to forego the chance to take her to bed one more time.
In fact, Gabriel is so game that he even believes Lilian’s crazy yet plausible interpretation of a vision she had while going to the same hypnotist that supposedly cured Pierre of his vice. Initially, Lilian seeks a quick fix for what appears to be some kind of involuntary crying. Though she doesn’t seem devastated at first, hearing the news of Paula’s suicide appears to have triggered a constant stream of tears that, perhaps surprisingly, stops once she goes under Jessica’s (Sophie Guillemin) trance. That trip, illustrated by Zlotowski as a surreal dream that doubles as a brief World War II flashback (in which her son being part of a Nazi-friendly militia is the least weird part), convinced Lilian not only that she and Paula were kinda, sorta in love, but that Simon is the killer.
As (former) husband and wife go poking into their newfound suspect’s life, Zlotowski’s control of tone and mood shines through. While one could argue that the playfulness with which she approaches the proceedings belies the script’s central pull, the director is far more interested in poking Lilian’s beliefs than doing a whodunnit. Her few attempts at straight tension, especially a slightly bizarre final confrontation with Amalric’s angry husband figure, stick out from an otherwise playful feature. Though unconvincing when it tries its hand at something purely emotional — Foster is given an Oscar-clip-worthy monologue, which she nails entirely in French, but is better as tragically humorous woman growing unsure of things by the day — “A Private Life” does manage to create an interesting dynamic as it posits the need to balance psychology’s theoretics with actual results and action.
Must there be a breakthrough for therapy to be successful? Or is the act of analysis beneficial in itself? While “A Private Life” never probes too-too deeply into these matters, the film’s witty conundrums give the questions enough weight to create a good back-and-forth in Lilian’s (and by proxy the audience’s) mind. Such inquiries are wrapped up in perhaps too nice a bow. Every single query seems to lead to a personal and professional advance for Lilian, but this degree of finality is forgiven precisely because Zlotowski keeps the film firmly in the realm of the eccentric. It would all have been much easier, though significantly less amusing, if Lilian just listened to her own psychiatrist. The answers are often in front of our eyes, but there is joy to be found in getting to them.
Grade: B
“A Private Life” premiered at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival. It will be released in the U.S. by Sony Pictures Classics.
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