The most intriguing mystery here is why a title that means "A Springtime in Paris" has been translated as "A Winter in Paris". In either case, the season is completely irrelevant here, so ultimately it's a minor point. Eddy Mitchell is best known as a singer, but has a long film career behind him as well. He is perfect for the kind of minor league crook he plays here ("petit frappe", as a relative of mine says). But he does little more here than look like the type he's playing. The plot here is so vague and slow-moving it's more like one of those art sci-fi films where you never quite know what's up than a crime thriller. When you do start to get some idea of what's going on, it's pretty formulaic and predictable. But not at all interesting.
Review of Un printemps à Paris
