Claude Lelouch is Claude Lelouch, who hardly changes, with a fiftieth film that, as announced in the closing credits of *Love is Better than Life*, is the beginning of a trilogy.
As always with the octogenarian director, his latest film contains some very annoying elements: cringe-worthy choreographies and songs, excerpts from his own past works, writing shortcuts, and performances by certain actors who seem to be there just to please the filmmaker.
On the other hand, there is this bewildering naturalness in dialogues that are not always particularly intelligent, and this candid audacity (not incompatible) to introduce Jesus or the Devil into his narrative. There is also, and above all, the looming presence of death, not experienced in a dramatic manner, by the way, but lending itself to some elegant pirouettes.
There’s only a short step from seeing *Love is Better than Life* as a testament film, and that is what, in its own way, makes the film more touching than expected.
And how can we not commend the performances of Gérard Darmon, who is perfect, and Sandrine Bonnaire, who is luminous, both emerging enhanced, even transformed, as do most actors who have performed in front of Lelouch’s camera. Whatever his critics may say: if all goes well, *Love is Better than Life* should not be Claude Lelouch’s last film before retirement.
