A modern-day romance fantasy set in the ritzier neighborhoods of New York City, 5 to 7 is a charmer and a grower. It’s a grower in the sense that its lovebirds, played by Anton Yelchin and Bérénice Marlohe, at first don’t quite gel on-screen, but slowly, scene by scene, as the plot gets richer and the emotions intensify, a silky dynamic develops that makes the relationship thoroughly convincing and engrossing by film’s end. Writer-director Victor Levin goes for a classical-feeling New York in line with Woody Allen’s Manhattan and Annie Hall, or even Mike Nichols’ Working Girl, and while he adds nothing revolutionary to the long-standing NYC-romance tradition, he pays homage to the city well enough that the story wouldn’t feel quite right had it been set somewhere else.

The corner of 55th street and Fifth avenue is where our unlikely story begins. Arielle (Marlohe), a stunning French woman in her thirties, is standing outside the St. Regis Hotel, treating herself to an afternoon cigarette. Along comes Brian (Yelchin), a twentysomething so taken aback by Arielle’s beauty that he stops to light his own cigarette and strike up a chat. It’s love (or at least something that looks a lot like love) at first sight. Yelchin’s a handsome guy for sure, but Marlohe is a picture of high-class beauty (she was a Bond girl for goodness sake), and it’s a hard sell that a woman who moves and talks and looks like her would be so immediately enamored by a young man who, by and large, is your typical NYC hipster.

Things get harder to believe even still. Arielle and Brian enter into a relationship that, by American standards, is a straight-up affair: she’s got a husband and kids, but tells Brian they can meet up on any day, as long as it’s between the hours of 5 and 7 in the evening. Apparently, this is a common arrangement in France, and Arielle’s husband’s got a mistress of his own. It’s something out of a teenage boy’s daydream, but as we watch Brian and Arielle spend more time together, the impracticality of it all becomes easier and easier to dismiss.

At first, we see standard rom-com stuff: Arielle and Brian walk through the park, joke about their age difference, share drinks (Arielle gives him a blindfold taste test at a fancy wine purveyor; he administers a blindfold beer test at a dive bar), and share the occasional under-the-covers tumble at the St. Regis. As more of Brian’s personality is revealed, it becomes clearer why Arielle would be interested in the boy. He’s far from manly man (his voice is meek, faintly prepubescent), but he entrances her with his intellect and slick sweet talk (a struggling novelist, he has a tendency to wax poetic, which she finds irresistible). Brian finds their unique arrangement incredibly disagreeable at first (as most of us would), but he tries to understand, asking questions and sticking around because, well, he’s falling for her. Arielle finds his staunch commitment and cultural confusion cute, and like him, she gets sucked into a lover’s free-fall.

Things get more complicated, though, when loved ones outside the “5 to 7” bubble get involved. Brian becomes fast friends with Arielle’s kids, and Arielle is a hit with his parents (played by Glenn Close and Frank Langella, bickering and kvetching in light comedy mode). When their love grows too big for their daily two-hour trysts, they’re faced with the question of what they’re willing to destroy in the name of love. By this point, because of leads’ performances, the stakes feel sky-high. Brian’s a richer role to embody than Arielle, and it seems Levin thought he’d make the characters’ complexities proportionate to the actors’ on-screen experience. Yelchin does a great job of conveying the Brian’s conflicted and ever-evolving psychological state, but Arielle’s arc has less texture, and I’m willing to bet Marlohe would have been able to handle more than what she’s given. It would have been nice to have seen more distinctly the gears turning in Arielle’s head.

There’s something special about New York City in springtime, and Levin captures that intangible aura nicely. The film opens with close-ups of the tiny gilded placards you’ll find on most Central Park benches, each engraved with a sweet message, often dedicated from one lover to another. Levin douses the presentation with a bucket of fuzzy nostalgia, filming on the busy streets and by popular landmarks often and classing things up with an old-school, melodic score by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans.  5 to 7 will break your heart, mend it back together, make it sing, and then break it again. It’s schmaltzy at times, the love scenes are shot too rigidly, and the concept isn’t exactly novel, but Levin, a first-time director, makes a good impression.

Set in the heart of New York City, 5 to 7 is a story of an impossible love between a young struggling novelist named Brian (Anton Yelchin), and Arielle (Bérénice Marlohe), an older, married woman (and mother of two). Together they enter into a relationship that, per an agreement struck between Arielle and her husband, must only exist between the hours of (you guessed it) 5 and 7 in the evening. It’s a classical love story set in a city that’s played host to some of the best classical love stories ever written. Writer-director Victor Levin does right by the NYC-love tradition, weaving a simple yet emotionally complex tale that’ll leave you both crushed and enchanted. The film also stars Glenn Close, Frank Langella, and Olivia Thirlby.

We had a chat with Marlohe about following up her big role in Skyfall, filming in New York, what she learned from working with Glenn Close, how Rage Against the Machine helped her prepare for scenes, how much she’d put on the line for love, pancake happiness, and more.

5 to 7 is out now in limited release.

Were you dead-set on landing a meaty role after your Skyfall gig? There’s some real substance to Arielle.
Absolutely. I loved the script, and as an actress the role gave me an opportunity to show more of my range. It was interesting for me to go from one genre to a very different one. It was very exciting.

It’s a classic romance set in New York City. That must have been a dream come true.
Yes, I just loved filming in New York. It’s such an amazing city with an amazing energy. The experience was absolutely divine. I learned about myself, met incredible actors like Anton, Glenn Close and Frank Langella. Glenn I really admire. She has so much talent and charisma and is so versatile. She can do comedy and drama, and that’s the kind of career I want to build for myself. It was amazing being on set with her. Frank Langella was so hilarious and lovely. He would improvise a lot between takes and I’d laugh and cry.

I’ve heard that Anton’s maturity is beyond his years.
It’s true! He feels more serious, more controlled. He’s almost the father figure on set. [The movie’s] concept is very fun since she’s so much older than he is, but [as an actor] he’s the one who’s older. Everything is reversed! The contrast is interesting. The concept of the film is interesting. I’ve never seen a subject like this on screen, and it’s a comedy, but there’s substance. It’s an emotional, beautiful story. I think the balance between comedy and intensity of emotion is pretty interesting.

How did you approach Arielle?
I used a lot of music. For each scene, I’d find a track—whether it’s jazz or classical or Rage Against the Machine; anything—that I’d use to feed my imagination for the specific purpose of the scene. Part of it is that, and I also tried to prepare months before shooting, looking for inspiration from my real life that could bring the right “food” for the day. What I find fascinating is that I always prepare months before filming, trying to find the inspiration for scenes, but the magic always happens 30 minutes before shooting. I suddenly find the right trigger that moves me.

How do you envision your career as an actor? What would you like to be known for?
I really want to do drastically different genres and characters. I want to explore my own colors. I did Skyfall, I did this movie, and I have some movies coming out with a lot of substance. One’s called Revolt, and in that one I’ll be more of a Che Guevara, a totally different role. After that, I have a comedy [miniseries], and I’ve always wanted to do a comedy. It’s called The Spoils Before Dying, and it’s produced by Will Ferrell and Kristen Wiig. I have a particular love for crazy characters, whether in comedy or not. You know Heath Ledger’s Joker? I’d love to play a badass villain like the Joker. I love clowns! [laughs] Over-the-top, crazy characters I’d be happy to play.

Did Glenn give you any advice in the time you spent with her?
It was reassuring being around her in a way. You see these actors who are so talented and charismatic, and then you see on set that they’re so humble and have their own questions. To see that even incredible actors are humble and aren’t always sure about what they’re doing is so inspiring. For me, real talent is linked to humility and questioning yourself as a human being. You find evolution in your work, and I saw that in Glenn. To see her try things without being certain of the result was very reassuring.

Is the open marriage between Arielle and her husband really a common thing in France?
[laughs] Honestly, I don’t know. It would be interesting to see.

Watching the movie kind of forces you to ask yourself how much you’d be willing to do for love. Do you think you’re the type of person to put everything on the line?
You mean would I be able to have a 5-to-7 relationship for love?

How about this: Would you be able to break up a marriage for love?
It’s a very tough, complex question. I think the most important thing is to be respectful of who you are. You have to do things in a respectful manner. Let’s imagine you’re married but you’re not happy anymore, but you stay married because of a social obligation. I think this is not the right thing. You should do things that make you happy. It starts with being true to yourself. I think, yes, if I was in an unhappy marriage, I’d be able to break it. When there are kids involved it becomes more complex, and that raises more questions because there are more people involved. It’s a complex, case-by-case situation.

I’ve got two last questions, one about Arielle, and one about you. What is Arielle’s greatest fear?
Probably to miss out on true love. She has her kids, but this love [with Brian] is her only experience with real love that makes her feel like a girl, like she says in the movie. The greatest fear is to make this choice to say no to the opportunity and leave this love. Her choice isn’t easy. It’s a renunciation of the possibility of true love. It’s admirable, in a way, that she would renounce love for her kids as a good mother.

Finally, what’s your idea of pure happiness?
Oh, pure happiness. For me, it would be to live in the moment, connected with yourself. Connected with your senses, but also with truth, not distracted by outside judgmental voices—society, TV, your parents, whatever. To be free. If you can be free with the people you love, this is a good thought for happiness. Oh, and pancakes, of course! [laughs]

Robot & Frank is a sentimental buddy-movie between two unlikely people; well, technically just one as the other is a robot as the title suggests. It is a simple story that aims to entertain and satisfy the audience rather than explore some of the serious issues it introduces. In the end, the film felt like it set its aspirations bit too low, but if you are willing to do the same, it can be a tolerable light spirited film.

Set in Cold Spring, New York in the near future, an older man named Frank (Frank Langella) is slowly showing signs of dementia. Frank is an ex-jewel thief who still stores most of his valuables in a secret safe behind a picture on the wall of his house where he resides alone. Because he absolutely refuses to go to a “brain center” or any kind of retirement home, Frank’s son Hunter (James Marsden) decides to get his father a robot to help him out around the house, like a butler.

To say that Frank is very put-off by his new robot would be a gross understatement. At first, he does not believe the robot (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard) will benefit him at all and figures it might just murder him in his sleep. Beyond just the fact that Frank is an elder who is resisting to rely on new technologies, a common thing among older people, but embracing this new butler also means that Frank would indirectly admit that he has a problem and needs help, which he does not believe he has. On his side for political reasons, is his daughter Madison (Liv Tyler) who plays a hippie that is opposed of robot slavery. But his view changes when Frank looks at the robot as an accomplice rather than a caretaker.

Because Frank has no choice but to accept the robot, he does so by putting it to work for him, just not in the way Hunter envisioned. Frank begins to teach the robot on how to assist him on his future heists by showing the robot how to pick locks and how to bypass traditional security measures. Just as they start to form a bond together, an opportunity arises where the pair can put their teamwork to use. A librarian that Frank has had his eye on for a while named Jennifer (Susan Sarandon) is distraught when the new library owner decides all of the books will be replaced with digital additions. Some view the plan to recycle all of the traditional books as throwing them away, thus Frank has his robot go to work to “save” one that means a lot to Jennifer.

The frustrating part about Robot & Frank is how the film chose to stay within the lines and playing out exactly how you think it will. It is essentially a classic tale of a stubborn man who wants nothing to do with his new robot but eventually befriends it and defends it when threatened to be taking away. The problem is there was more potential in Christopher Ford’s script that was severely underused. Dependency on technology, political views on robot slaves, and the demise of text-book literacy were all hinted at, but unfortunately, not fully explored.

Frank Langella appears in every scene, and handles the task well for the most part. Some of his lines feel a little off at times, like when he says the robot is “cramping his style”. The rest of the cast is too clichéd to be memorable. Jeremy Strong who plays the villain of the new snobby library owner, comes off as a laughable character who probably was not intended to be. Strong is almost always over-the-top with his delivery and is more distracting than anything else.

Because the film holds your hand the entire way through – something that it could have deviated from at times – Robot & Frank ends up largely being a film that was too carefully setup and executed to be anything beyond a safe crowd pleaser. But since being a crowd pleasing film was the intention of the film, it cannot be faulted for carrying out its design. The aim to leave the audience satisfied is evident throughout but especially in the end where a plot twist could have been worked as a bone-chilling yet emotional impacting moment that the film instead opts to keep low-key and lighthearted. Changing the direction that the film should have gone would be labeled as a personal preference; and one that I would have preferred.

There is no denying that the indie Sundance Film Festival winner Robot and Frank looks intriguing. While it still looks like it is a heartwarming tale of robot companionship, it appears to put a little bit of a spin on the over-used formula. The film stars Frank Langella (Frost/Nixon), who appears to have a fairly stand out performance, alongside James Marsden (X-Men) and Liv Tyler (Lord of the Rings, The Strangers).

An ex-jewel thief named Frank receives a robotic caretaker from his children in lieu of moving into a retirement home. Frank is reluctant towards the butler robot at first but eventually begins to bond with the machine. He especially grows close to him once he finds out that he can teach it how to pick a lock and become a partner in crime.

Robot and Frank has a limited theatrical release on August 24th, 2012.

Watch the official trailer for Robot and Frank: