The action takes place on the Côte d’Azur. At the beach as in the overhanging villas, luxury rubs shoulders with indolence. Finally, for those who can afford it. This is not the case of young Adrien, a fop condemned to envy others. While living off the hook of Martha, a film star with a fading luster, Adrien falls in love with the charming and cunning Margot, a con man with whom he constructs a deception aimed at a wealthy local entrepreneur, the outcome of which should allow them access, too, to this expensive idleness. However, in the aptly titled Masqueradethe designated victim is not necessarily the one we believe.
Even with the exception of the person pulling the strings, everyone in Masquerade will be fooled, mystified, bamboozled… For some characters, it’s obvious, for others, it’s latent.
Written and directed by Nicolas Bedos, Masquerade is indeed built on the principle of the scam inside the scam. Because, as cinephiles keen on film noir and neo-noir know, as soon as two fraudsters join forces, whatever their supposed common intentions, one of the two will necessarily play the other, it is acquired: see Double Indemnity (Insurance on death), by Billy Wilder, The Grifters (The scammers), by Stephen Frears, Matchstick Men(The less than nothing), by Ridley Scott…
From then on, the interest lies in this nagging question: who will win the piece, and who will end up in the water?
Alas, the protagonists of Masquerade seem to live in a universe where, apart from those shot in the past by Martha, films do not exist. One of the characters, whom we won’t name so as not to spoil anyone’s pleasure, ultimately turns out to be so naive that it becomes incredible. This inability to see what is obvious and to anticipate what is very, very predictable, does not agree at all with the nature of the said character: this blindness is only there to accommodate the plot.
A plot which, even if we see its surprise outcome coming, its twist, miles away, is quite entertaining nonetheless. It’s that Nicolas Bedos maintains a tight rhythm and a very attractive invoice.
Adjani saves the day
The director can also count on the brilliance of Isabelle Adjani, who is here the equivalent of the proverbial ace in the sleeve. In the role of Martha, the fallen star who continues to “act as an actress” in her vast residence resembling a mausoleum, if not prized by the cameras, the star of The killer summer and of Queen Margot gives the public their money’s worth. And more.
You have to see his Martha, in the morning, playing the have-you-seen in an evening dress, stumbling into the swimming pool next to his villa: a wink — or a snub, it depends — at Sunset Blvd. (Dusk Boulevard), by Billy Wilder.
By turns unbearable with narcissism and moving with vulnerability, Martha is by far the most interesting character in the monstrous bestiary imagined by the filmmaker. In fact, no one is kind, good or honest in Masquerade. That’s fine, but Martha stands out in that she flaunts her preposterous quirks in the same way that she makes no secret of her insecurities.
In a moment of amorous torture where Adrien plays Valmont by repeating the same laconic response to each of Martha’s pleas, Adjani eclipses not only his partner, but the film itself.
It must be said that Pierre Niney, if he has the physique for the role, gives off as much charisma here as an ice cube. It is hard to imagine that Martha never tires of him and does not replace him with another, less demanding gigolo. Marine Vacth convinces more in pretty filoute. As for François Cluzet, who embodies the prosperous and married type that Margot ensnares, he does what he can with a jagged score. As a deceived wife, the excellent Emmanuelle Devos is shamefully underused.
In short, failing to believe in the story, we take advantage of the ambient sun, and especially of Isabelle Adjani.