Un Air de Famille

Cedric Klapisch's follow-up to the minor arthouse hit When the Cat's Away, adapted from a hit French play by Jean-Pierre Bacri and Agnes Jaoui, is in no way challenging or innovative, but what it is instead is something to be cherished in these days of pervasive sloppiness: it's well-crafted. Do I sound as if I'm damning it with faint praise? I hope not, because I intend that as a compliment of the highest order. Like the plays of Alan Ayckbourne, it's a well-oiled comedy machine in which every line of dialogue, every gesture, every apparently random event is a carefully-placed cog. This kind of fanatical orchestration can often be stifling, choking the life out of the tale (look at just about any recent Hollywood comedy), but when it works--when the company can collectively create an illusion of spontaneity, even as the gears are turning--the result is immensely satisfying. As the title suggests, it's a family piece, with various friends and relatives gathering in a small cafe for a birthday celebration that inevitably degenerates into a series of recriminations, accusations, and mean-spirited barbs, which alternate between hilarity and genuine pathos. Nothing you haven't seen before, but written and performed with such verve and style that it almost seems new and exciting. Highly recommended. (M. D'Angelo)