Regie:
Régis RoinsardDrehbuch:
Régis RoinsardKamera:
Guillaume SchiffmanBesetzung:
Romain Duris, Déborah François, Bérénice Bejo, Shaun Benson, Mélanie Bernier, Féodor Atkine, Miou-Miou, Eddy Mitchell, Nicolas Bedos, Caroline Tillette (mehr)Inhalte(1)
Frankreich, 1958: Die junge Rose lebt in einem kleinen Dorf und träumt von der großen, weiten Welt. Ihr konservativer Vater möchte sie am liebsten unter die Haube bringen, doch Rose schwebt eine Karriere als Sekretärin vor. Und so bewirbt sie sich in der nächstgrößten Stadt im Versicherungsbüro des galanten Louis Échard. Trotz ihrer charmanten Tollpatschigkeit erkennt Louis ihr Talent an der Schreibmaschine und beschließt, sie für einen regionalen Wettbewerb im Maschinenschreiben zu trainieren. Und so avanciert die unschuldige Rose nicht nur zur begehrten Tipp-Königin, sondern verdreht auch ihrem ehrgeizigen Chef den Kopf. (one - ARD)
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To give four stars to this overly romanticized French comedy filled with declarations of love in multiple languages, there really must be some compelling reasons. And I found them. Sure, it was occasionally so sweet that I caught myself clenching my teeth, and I'm not exactly the biggest fan of French movies, but credit where it's due — the filmmakers here deserve some credit. Yes, the story was simple and pretty predictable, but it's a romantic comedy, so that's par for the course. What really grabbed me was the humor — it was right up my alley. Rose's training sequences were reminiscent of Rocky gearing up to fight Ivan Drago, and the actual sports performances had me scrambling to find the nearest World Championship of this captivating sport on every sports channel I could find. I won't lie, amidst the clacking of keyboards and the scent of burning paper, I was on the edge of my seat. This wasn't just a run-of-the-mill romance; it was an engaging sports thriller that kept me thoroughly entertained. / Lesson learned: It's only when you achieve significant success in life that you realize how many friends you truly have.
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Cute, sumptuously stylized, nice, with the correctly selected and dosed pinch of tongue in cheek where the “fights" worked especially well. There’s just one problem, fundamental with regard to the genre; there’s simply no chemistry between the central duo. Both are right for their parts, but there’s about as much harmony between them as between two dead fish in a bucket.
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Expendables as a romantic comedy, with an incredibly distasteful Hugo Weaving clone in the lead. The French finale scene is pure motion elegance in both the filmmaking and the acting.
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Galerie (30)
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