The image of a charming twosome, slack and romantically engaged, each leaning toward the other in one of those countless Parisian cafés to whose notability the cinema has made a profound and immemorial contribution: it is Frédéric with his potential lover Chloé, a holdover from his youth having returned to say hello, to reminisce, and maybe to get something out of this long-forgotten friendship with a wealthy and successful attorney. And so it is—they are man and woman. He is there to enjoy the tantalizing benefits of a mistress without the guilt of infidelity, and she to bask in his gentlemanly largesse without the burden of a sexual relationship. This…
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What could be more egocentric than wanting from the sensation of another person the full throttle of desire, passion, and every shade of transcendent experience? And what could be more ridiculous, more naïve, more dreamy-eyed, and more shamelessly hopeful? And what more human? Around this and its associated myths Pauline at the Beach revolves like a frozen planet, setting its face to this and that side of the question without becoming too committed to any one point. The steely core of this human madness of a planet is the titular character, Pauline, who takes part in the fateful—and fatal—adult game of love as an initiate of this dangerous word and…
