Film Review - Frankie (2019)

There’s something decidedly familiar about the scenario for Frankie and, while it’s not to the film’s detriment, it does influence your expectations. A terminally ill woman gathering her family around her to put her affairs in order but, in the latest from director Ira Sachs, the film is just as much about the of her family as it is about the titular central character.

Frankie (Isabelle Huppert) is a successful film actress, married to second husband Jimmy (Brendan Gleeson) and she’s summonsed the family to picturesque Sintra in Portugal for a last holiday together. First husband Michel (Pascal Greggory) is there, along with Paul (Jeremie Renier), the son he and Frankie had together. Jimmy’s daughter Sylvia (Vinette Robinson) has brought her husband and teenage daughter, despite the marriage falling apart at the seams. And into the mix comes Ilene (Marisa Tomei), Frankie’s closest friend and, the actress hopes, a possible match for the self-centred but lonely Paul – except that Ilene has boyfriend Gary (Greg Kinnear) in tow.

At which point you’re expecting something in a Woody Allen mode, with perhaps a sprinkling of witty banter or a vaguely eccentric character or two. It’s not what you get, although there’s more than enough dialogue. The narrative, such as it is, is a series of conversations – some two handers, some with more – often combined with a walk, in the brilliant sunshine, the mist, the pouring rain, the beach, the forest, the town ….. anywhere where the characters can talk about their problems, their lives and, of course, what is happening to Frankie. And they talk. And talk. It’s all done at a gentle pace and the scenery is beautiful, but they have a perplexing tendency to all sound the same – and that includes Sylvia’s teenage daughter.

The names of Huppert, Tomei and Gleeson are the attractions here, all fine performers but it’s only Gleeson who has a genuine chance to shine. Already crumpled and crumbling in anticipation of losing the love of his life, he clings on to every moment with her, in the knowledge that “for me, there is no after Frankie”. Tomei brings an endearing warmth to Ilene but can’t disguise the lack of substance in the role, while Huppert gives us what we’ve seen plenty of before – distance, elegance and coolness. She seems to be the least likely person to have at the centre of a film that tries to examine our legacies, personal and otherwise, and there’s only a brief moment where her role makes any sense, other than simply being a catalyst.

That the story develops over the course of a solitary day would, you’d hope, give it a sense of urgency and a discipline, but it’s not to be. Some of the characters understand each other a little better by the time the sun goes down, but next to nothing is resolved, leaving the original reason for them all coming together feeling like a tastelessly trite device. And the themes of loss and legacies are frustratingly under-developed. Only the beauty of Sintra, and the ever-excellent Gleeson, live up to our expectations.