Primerose: A dusty relic that still has a heartbeat

Is it worth your time?

If you like old-school French cinema and don't mind a bit of stage-bound dialogue, then sure, give it a go. But if you need pacing that actually moves or characters who aren't constantly posturing? Stay far away. This is for the folks who like to dig through the bargain bin of history and find something that still has a little shine left on it.

The whole thing feels like it was filmed inside a box. It’s got that classic, slightly claustrophobic 1930s studio look where every room is perfectly decorated but nobody looks like they actually live there.

Marguerite Moreno is the only reason this doesn't completely fall apart under its own weight. She has this look in her eyes—half-bored, half-knowing—that cuts right through the stuffy dialogue.

Honestly, the plot is kind of a mess. It’s one of those movies where people keep entering and exiting rooms just to deliver lines about who is in love with who. It reminded me a bit of the chaotic energy in We're Rich Again, though with significantly less slapstick and way more velvet.

Odd little observations:

• The lighting in the garden scenes is bizarrely bright. It looks like they forgot to turn down the sun.
• There’s a moment where a character pauses for, like, six seconds to look at a letter. I started checking my phone before they finally put it down.
• The way they handle the transitions between scenes is so abrupt it’s almost funny. *Pop*, we are in a different building now.
• I’m pretty sure I saw the same chair in the background of three different houses.

The dialogue is so fast it makes your head spin. It’s not witty, necessarily, just very, very busy. It’s like they were paid by the syllable.

There is a scene toward the middle where two characters have a falling out. The acting is so grand, so theatrical, that I couldn't help but laugh. It’s not bad, exactly, just... very far away from how people actually talk. 🎭

It’s not quite as sharp as the best stuff from the era, but it has a certain pluck. It’s an uneven watch, for sure. You’ll find yourself zoning out for five minutes, only to be pulled back in by a random, sharp remark from a supporting character who clearly knows more than they’re letting on.

I wouldn't call this a hidden gem. It’s more like a dusty trinket you find in a drawer. You polish it up, look at it for a second, and put it back. But hey, it was an interesting enough way to spend a rainy afternoon.