Whenever John Malkovich is off screen, this turns into an attractive film, an echo of the best Antonioni. The first segment has very beautiful actors doing nothing, the second has Marceau taking her clothes off for Malkovich, the third is completely blank in spite of Ardant and Reno, then there are Moreau and Mastroianni amusing themselves, and finally, the marvelous Irène Jacob stars in the best segment. Tonino Guerra still writes the same dialogues... no wonder people do not communicate! In any case, Wenders should have only helped the old master to do his usual number, instead of introducing his insufferable transitions with Malkovich, and vacuous, fashionable music.
Review of Beyond the Clouds
