Bird People begins with a montage of people coming and going on subway trains throughout Paris. It’s a bit of an odd start until the perspective changes: suddenly everyone’s thoughts on the train can he heard, the camera profiling each person in a train car before settling on hotel maid Audrey (Anaïs Demoustier). It’s a delightfully executed sequence, mainly due to its unexpected shift from observational filmmaking to something more fantastical. And it’s not the only surprise Bird People has in store.

In a lengthy prologue, Bird People introduces its two central characters before splitting off into two parts. The first part dedicates itself to Gary Newman (Josh Charles), a Silicon Valley businessman staying at the same hotel Audrey works at. After a day of boring business meetings, Gary makes a sudden decision to throw his entire life away. He resigns from his job, telling his wife (Radha Mitchell) he’s leaving her, opting to stay in Europe and start over. The film’s primary location, a Hilton hotel standing next to an airport runway, gives insight into why Gary wants to abandon everything. It feels detached from the world, surrounded by paved runways and people transitioning from one place to another. Director Pascale Ferran puts a heavy emphasis on themes of loneliness and alienation in Gary’s story, something that runs throughout the second half but in a lesser capacity (more on that later).

Rather than use Gary’s decision as a launching pad for the narrative Ferran, along with co-writer Guillaume Bréaud, dwell entirely on the ramifications of Gary’s actions. Despite Gary expressing his desire to break free from his suffocating lifestyle, he never leaves the hotel, instead fielding calls from his co-workers and lawyer as he sorts out the logistics of resigning and selling off several assets. This culminates in a 15 minute sequence where Gary and his wife argue over their marriage. Ferran and Bréaud’s detail-oriented approach, along with Josh Charles’ excellent performance, make Gary’s story a compelling drama about the difficulties of starting a new life.

But when the story’s second part kicks in, swinging the focus back on to Audrey, Bird People makes a significant shift. Discussing what happens would ruin the fun in watching such an audacious, baffling reveal. It’s better to leave it at this: Audrey spends her days cleaning hotel rooms bored out of her mind until something significant occurs. In this way, Audrey and Gary’s stories are the same; both experience something major in their lives, and both have to do with their desires to experience some sort of freedom from their mundane existence. It’s just that Audrey’s story goes down such a surprising path, a sort of magical realism on a larger scale than the opening, it raises the film to a whole other level.

Ferran’s direction takes on another life once Audrey’s story kicks in, and the results are incredible. The camera, mostly locked down in Gary’s storyline, begins roaming all over the place, whether it’s swooping aerial shots or low, canted angles. The hints of eccentricity early on, including the aforementioned train scene and the sparing use of a narrator (Mathieu Amalric), end up taking over every frame. Add to that some incredibly subtle and impressive use of CGI, and suddenly Bird People feels like it’s free of constraints that weren’t at first evident. It’s delightful, go-for-broke filmmaking, a ballsy cinematic choice making the film one of 2014’s more unique viewing experiences.

And while Anaïs Demoustier doesn’t have the opportunity to show off the same dramatic chops as her co-star, she does a fantastic job making Audrey into a likable, fully realized character. A lengthy 130 minute running time, along with a disappointing final scene, put a small damper on things, but there’s no denying how powerfully delightful the film’s sea change feels. Through such a bold stroke of originality, Bird People highlights the boundless opportunities makes available through storytelling.

If there’s anything we’ve learned from François Ozon‘s past work it’s this: The man is unafraid to explore boundaries of sexuality. And he does it extremely well (see: Young & Beautiful, 8 Women, In the House, Swimming Pool). While his latest film The New Girlfriend may not be his best exploration in this area, we certainly enjoyed the effort from him, as well has the daring performance from lead actor Romain Duris, who makes this role his best to date.

The opening montages contain so much detail yet such brevity that only a few filmmakers such as Ozon can pull off. During the opening credits a woman is shown in her wedding dress before slowly revealed that she’s lying in a casket. As close ones mourn the loss of Laura, her best friend Claire (Anaïs Demoustier) makes a speech about how they first met. Set to a somber duo of piano and violin, flashbacks show how their friendship blossomed from grade school and how they eventually met their future husbands. Though after Laura gave birth to her child she tragically passed away, leaving behind her child and her husband David (Duris). This all happens within about 5 minutes and it’s easily the best edited segment of the entire film.

Claire has a hard time dealing with the fact that her best friend is no longer with her, but holds up her promise of looking after David and the newborn. One day as Claire is checking to see how the two are handling Laura’s passing, she discovers one of David’s most secret pleasures–dressing up as a woman. David confesses to this desire, but also points out that the baby misses a feminine presence.

Some time passes before Claire can fully process and accept David’s eagerness to dress as a woman. During that same time David finally realizes that the baby was more of an excuse and that he actually wants to become a woman. So he develops a whole new personality when he puts on the wig and dress and prefers to go by the name Virginia. Because Claire is the only one who knows about this secret and the only one he trusts, the two end up spending a great deal of time together, forming a stronger bond than they ever had before.

Most of the action in The New Girlfriend happens early on, making the middle section feel lengthy until finally some late film developments add a little excitement back. Ozon mixes in some humor here and there to help lighten things up, but ultimately it’s the actors that make us keep watching. Duris is stellar putting on a two-for-one show playing both a male and female character who struggle with finding themselves. Demoustier is also excellent playing an equally confused character the audience can sympathize with.

But the performances and the astute filmmaking alone won’t be enough to win over audiences. And even if Ozon isn’t the type of director who aims to please the masses, The New Girlfriend stalls just enough for it to fall short of something great.

Premiering as the Closing Night film at the Cannes film festival last year was Claude Miller’s final film (before passing away) Thérèse. Adapted from a novel of the same name, Thérèse is a slow-burner period piece about a newlywed woman who attempts to break free from her marriage and social pressures. The film’s linear structure, no-surprises narrative, and emotionless characters make the whole production feel rather mundane; save for some beautiful cinematography that provides the only stimulation found in the film.

One of the first conversations between the soon to be married couple Thérèse Larrorque (Audrey Tautou) and Bernard Desqueyroux (Gilles Lellouche) is about how much land they will own together, which speaks volumes about their relationship. Both of their families own thousands of acres of pine trees and calculate that once they get married they will own 11,000 acres of land. Even as a young teenager Thérèse was well aware that her future marriage with Bernard would be more for the family’s interest of land ownership rather than actual love. The two acknowledge the business first/love last marriage from the beginning and both are completely content with going through with it anyways.

Contrasting their relationship in just about every way is the love-fueled relationship between Thérèse’s sister-in-law Anne de la Trave (Anaïs Demoustier) and Jean Azevedo (Stanley Weber), a man that the family does not deem fit for Anne. Thérèse envies the love between the two and promises to side with Anne despite the family’s disapproval. But when Thérèse finally meets Jean to discuss Anne, she finds out that he has no intention to marry her and develops a minor infatuation for him.

Thérèse does a credible job of using self-evident visuals to symbolize its narrative. Perhaps the most obvious case of this is how their land of pines represents their marriage, so when it eventually catches on fire it signifies the destruction of their relationship. Or when Thérèse is so disgusted in herself that she puts her hand up to block the reflection because she cannot bear to look back at her own image. Storms are often on the horizon, suggesting that the danger is just around the corner.

Although Audrey Tautou’s role calls for her to be completely free of passion and emotions to the people around her, it does not change the fact that it is frustrating as a viewer to also be shunned of her motivations. For the time period her character is considered free-spirited and full of thoughts, yet we are not privy to what she is thinking. She is as lifeless as the dead animals brought back from the hunting expeditions throughout the film. And while all of this is done on purpose, the most difficult thing to do is care about a character who does not seem to care about anything themselves.

The biggest disappointment in Thérèse is the straightforward approach of the narrative structure. Every step along the way is foreshadowed long before it happens, leaving no surprises or curves to spice up the lethargic narrative when the inevitable does occur. While some of the plot points are made abundantly clear, like how oppressive society was at the time; other subplots dissolve without much explanation, such as Thérèse’s subtle attraction to Jean and subsequent falling out with her best friend Anne. The ornate production design and the outstanding use of cinematography recreate the time period and stand among the most noteworthy characteristics of Thérèse, but they are not enough to overcome all the drawbacks.

Thérèse trailer