Romantic and unabashedly sentimental, Alain Corneau's 1991 Tous les Matins du Monde folds a story within a story as one musician remembers another. Corneau begins with a tight close-up on the powdered face of a satin-garbed, bewigged viola de gamba player (Gérard Depardieu). While leading an ensemble in King Louis XIV's palace, his eyes well with tears as he loses himself in a reverie, calling forth images of viol player Monsieur de Sainte-Columbe (an excellent Jean-Pierre Marielle, Coup de Torchon) who lives in the country with his wife and daughters. Corneau will take his time in establishing the connection between the two men.
When Sainte-Columbe's wife dies, he's devastated. He proceeds to spend all of his time in the makeshift studio behind the manor practicing, writing compositions, and talking to his wife's ghost, while a nanny looks after the girls. Once they're old enough, he acknowledges them again by teaching them how to play the viol, and once they're good enough, they form a trio.
The years pass, and one day, handsome 17-year-old Marin Marais (Depardieu's son, Guillaume) knocks on the door, hoping to receive lessons from the master. Sainte-Columbe asks him to play "Follies of Spain," but he isn't impressed. "You play music, but you're no musician," he sniffs. When Marin plays an original, however, Sainte-Columbe's expression softens. Nonetheless, he asks him to go away and practice for a month. Marin does as instructed, but after he plays for the King, Sainte-Columbe ends the lessons, so eldest daughter Madelaine (Anne Brochet, Depardieu's Cyrano de Bergerac costar) instructs him in private, leading to a covert affair.
Though Sainte-Columbe holds court musicians in low regard, Marin longs to improve his station, so he's soon wearing powder, wigs, and satins. He visits the manor less frequently (Gérard Depardieu then takes over as Marin). Madelaine, who remains besotted, teases that he's grown "marvelously beribboned and fat." Though his visits decrease, he still manages to impregnate her, but it's the beginning of the end when he meets a society lady and stops visiting altogether, leading Madelaine to take to her bed, possibly indefinitely.
As his reverie winds down, Marin recounts his final moments with Sainte-Columbe and his daughter. Corneau then ends exactly where he began as Marin realizes he has finally become the musician of his tutor's dreams—even if he would not live to see them realized.
In truth, Sainte-Columbe had great respect for Marin, but Corneau's adaptation of Pascal Quignard's novel works best as speculative fiction, particularly in Yves Angelo's candle-lit, Old Master-inspired cinematography. Tous les Matins would go on to win seven César Awards, including Best picture. Sadly, Guillaume would pass away in 2008 at the age of 37. He and his father had a famously troubled relationship, but the film marked a high point for both. The bonus features offer a commentary track from historian Samm Deighan and interviews covering every aspect of the production with its primary architects, including composer Jordi Savall, whose baroque score would become a French sensation. Recommended.