Every few years Isabelle Huppert emerges from the sewer in which the majority of her films are set, metaphorically speaking, grabs a lungful of fresh, uncontaminated air and lets it out in a joyful explosion. This movie is one of those occasions and we had, I suppose, better make the most of it. I bow to no one in my admiration of Ms. Huppert, indeed I have admired her for more years than I care to remember or, to put it another way, since she was making entertaining, high quality films like Les Soeurs fachees rather than wallowing in the wild side. This film was clearly conceived as a vehicle for Huppert and she grabs it with both hands and even when it cries 'uncle' she barely lets go. In other hands the rather pedestrian story of the free spirit trying to force her square peg of wackiness into the round hole of convention - in this case to prove to her diametrically opposed daughter that she can do 'normal' - would fall flat but with Huppert it soars and takes us with it.
Review of Copacabana
