(disclaimer: not the homemade porn by Rick Solomon, but a romantic comedy written, directed, scored and acted by Julie Delpy, featuring also Adam Goldberg, and coming to theatres this week)

So a week or so a go Maison Francaise, one of the most finely programmed embassy cultural centers in DC (”embassy cultural centers” being to DC what pretzel stands are to NY) did a special preview screening of Two Days in Paris with a party beforehand, with Julie Delpy at the party to boot. We went (it is totally ok to be jealous at this point).

(no camera’s were allowed sadly, otherwise we would now insert imagery of Julie in her adorable wrap dress fighting adoring fans off with a smile and a semi-big stick. We mainly just gawked over our brie. Because we are classy like that)

Ok, well, onto the movie: (or as I like to call it “Why you probably want to hate Julie Delpy but can’t help but love her”)

When I first saw Julie Delpy in Three Colors:White, the most lighthearted of Kieslowski’s Colors trilogy, she was a fresh faced French ingenue, on the cusp of international fame (which was, in grand Hollywood-fuck-up fashion supposed to come in “Three Musketeers”-ew). Then we powered through my teens and her 20s with Before Sunrise and Waking Life and her early thirties and my 20s with Before Sunset (all Linklater collaborations) and needless to say: its been emotional.

So now we come full circle with Two Days in Paris, which she completely and delightfully authored, another generational romantic dramedy, with lots of talking and walking and loving and hating and pictures of helium balloons attached to penises.

And I loved it. Laura loved it too (in fact we had to make an executive decision NOT to include Julie Delpy in her Turn you on column last week). It goes right up there for me with the Whit Stillman Trilogy and my favorite Baumbachs.

The story is simple:
A photographer (Delpy) and an interior designer (Adam Goldberg-giving a masterclass in walking the fine line between utterly annoying and utterly charming) come to Paris for a weekend visit to her parents.
She is French.
He is American.
She is relaxed.
He is not.
She is flirty and lovely.
He is paranoid.
She has A LOT OF ex-boyfriends. That never left Paris. And crazy parents. And a crazy sibling.
And he does not get it.(the Americans in European movies NEVER DO-duh)
Lots of cultural mishaps ensue (some, like the visit to the market going for predictable laughs, some like the fast food visit with a friendly terrorist being pure genius) and everyone cries and laughs and talks/yells their way through this movie.
And things get a little raunchy here and there, but they laugh it all off in a relaxed, “european” way.

A movie like this HUGELY depends on the likability of its stars and Julie is, if anything, immensely likable. She is as much of an ingenue at 35 just as she was at 20, wide eyed, fragile, heartbreaking and her rapport with Goldberg (who has been pretty high on our list of our unexplicable loves since he played Chandler’s psychotic roommate on Friends) is priceless. They actually do seem like a couple (they are not, Goldberg is shacked up with Christina Ricci, by the by) and even at their most frustrating, you want them to pull through.

If for nothing else, then for more of those penis/balloon photo sessions.

see.it.

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