Iris and The Men is a comedy with distinctively French proclivities. Written and directed by Caroline Vignal, there is a sadness, yearning and yet joie de vivre about it.
The film’s origins were in what Vignal heard from a 51-year-old friend who had embraced life after her husband suddenly left her. Another friend had encouraged her to sign up to a dating site, which boosted her damaged ego and lifted her cloak of invisibility.
In the film, after 16 years of marriage (and 22 years together) Iris Beaulieu’s (Laure Calamy) husband Stephane (Vincent Elbaz) appears to have lost interest in her. The pair has two daughters. Although the pleasantries between Iris and Stephane remain, the passion is gone. They haven’t had sex in four years. While waiting for a parent-teacher meeting, another mother gives Iris a solution… one she claims saved her life.
And what might that answer be? Get onto a dating app for purely physical hook-ups. So, Iris does just that, with instant results. Before she knows it, it’s figuratively raining men of all ages, shapes and sizes. As she experiences a series of one-date stands, Iris regains the spring in her step, connecting with her desire and sexuality. At first Stephane hardly notices because he’s so busy working, having landed a big contract, but then Iris’ unusual behaviour becomes impossible to ignore.
Iris’ dental assistant Nuria (Suzanne De Baecque) is also decidedly put out by this aberrant conduct. While attending to patients, Iris is forever distracted by her pinging phone messages. She begins taking increasing amounts of time off – at short notice – during the day. Truth be told, she just longs to be wanted by her husband, but are matters too far gone? Is there a way back?
Laure Calamy is a delightful centrepiece of the film. She channels a great deal through her distinctive facial expressions and body movement. She transitions her character well from downcast (the books she reads at night in bed speaks volumes) to cheeky and cheery. It is very much her movie as the world gravitates around her character. Vincent Elbaz brings an inner strength to his role as Iris’ husband and devoted father Stephane. Suzanne De Baecque gives voice to Nuria’s confusion and unease, making her presence felt in the process.
The film manages to avoid much focus on the stranger danger inherent in the situation in which Iris chooses to put herself. Instead, it concentrates on the adventure and excitement. Naïve? Yes, but this is a fairytale, after all. As to the issue of consent, it is left to her teenage daughter to bring that up at the dinner table, with Iris enraging her with her surprising response.
Iris and The Men has warmth and charm that many will find appealing. I enjoyed it for what it was.
Alex First
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Alex First is a Melbourne based journalist and communications specialist. He contributes to The Blurb on film and theatre.
