Tim Johnson We watched this lovely film on TV last night and both of us enjoyed it tremendously. I judge films by how memorable they are; even good films that are appreciated at the time disappear in my, admittedly, porous memory but this film for some reason cemented itself in my memory immediately. I admit that I enjoy films about male/female relations or the lack thereof if that is the case; the French are the planet's masters of this examination of the human condition and they do it very well. The Singer is an examination of that most sensitive of times in relationships: the period of discovery, before people understand what is happening to them, whether there is enough glue to hold this tentative relationship together. I thought that the director knew exactly what he wanted his actors to do and their professionalism allowed them to play these most sensitive of roles so well. As you can imagine there are no huge points of realization or transcendence in this beautifully played out examination: nothing that we have been led to expect from Hollywood, just quiet, introspective searching and waiting to see if the puzzle pieces fall into place as the singer hopes they will. As you can see, the movie is an examination of these two people very tentatively feeling each other out to see if they have a future. The viewer's joy is watching this endearing and gentle examination. I found the movie a tremendous viewing experience but very tentative, very gentle and very knowing.

Framescourer I suspect there must be a genre term in French cinema for films in which Depardieu gets the girl by virtue of his charisma. I think he fits his conceit rather well in this kitchen-sink sized romance, an ageing but professional dance hall singer-compère. Cécile De France also fits into this as Marion, the woman who he seduces then spends the rest of the film chasing - initially it all seems a bit odd until we discover that Marion is more damaged than outward appearance might suggest.The problem for me is that I come from the north side of the channel and simply can't process the fluid morality at the heart of the film - the ease with which people slip in and out of each others' beds but remain within the same social orbit. There's nothing in the film to explain or dramatise this situation either. I found myself getting rather waylaid as to the point of it all.Director Xavier Giannoli treats the potentially toe-curling parochial dance-hall sequences with loving reverence - one can see how Alain would be happy to do these inauspicious gigs for the rest of his life. Shame about the baffling drama though. 4/10

Bob Taylor On the basis of this one film, Xavier Giannoli seems like a limited director, one who can coax a good performance from an actor--or simply stand out of the way when it's the monumental Depardieu--but who shows little sense of style or drama. I lost count of the number of scenes that go nowhere, that serve only to bring out another of Alain Moreau's foibles. Why does the singer have to share scenes with a goat, for heaven's sake? Poor Mathieu Amalric: here's one of the most interesting actors in France, and his character can only open doors and make introductions.Gerard Depardieu is splendid, it's one of his five best career performances. He's entirely at ease, spinning his stories to the enchanted but watchful Cecile de France. To play Marion, she has had to turn down the Audrey Hepburn gamine quality; she's very effective in a few scenes.

jasoneden I saw this film this afternoon at the London Fim Festival and loved it. You clearly got a sense of a singer in the twilight of his career observing either younger singers much better than understanding the needs of the audience than himself, or realising that his companions from years ago have done much better than he has.I sometimes felt that we were watching two stories, one about the Singer and another about the younger woman. Each had baggage, both were drawn to each other in ways they did not expect.go see this if you get the chance, and stay and watch the credits to find a few extras thrown in.