FELIX AND MEIRA – The Review

This new French-Canadian drama explores the relationship between two people from vastly different backgrounds. The title couple are not from different countries, social status, or races. And not religions, either. They were both raised in the Jewish faith, but their cultures truly seem to clash more than mesh. He’s a somewhat lapsed Jew who’s aware of the teachings and traditions, but doesn’t seem to attend services with any frequency. She’s part of a very strict Hasidic household, married to a husband who adheres very strictly to the teachings and traditions, always clothed in his black prayer garments while spending much of his time with the rabbis and scholars at his local synagogue. And they have a young daughter, perhaps 10 to 15 months old. The title lady tries to be the good, quiet wife, but something seems to be missing, something that her new acquaintance exudes, perhaps. The duo in question is FELIX AND MEIRA.

Their story begins in snowy, cold Montreal in a modest home. Shulem (Luzer Twersky) and several other men chant and sing prayers before a meal ushering in the Sabbath as his wife Meira (Hadas Yaron), along with the other wives are seated at the opposite end of the table, listen dutifully. After the guests have left, Shulem reminds her that they must hurriedly clear the table before the timer turns out all the lights. Meanwhile at a plush estate Felix (Martin Dubreuil) is warmly greeted by his sister Caroline (Anna-Elisabeth Bosse). She leads him into another room, so that he may have a few last moments with his fading, elderly father. Felix, the prodigal son, has been away for over ten years and the confused patriarch has great difficulty recalling him. One morning, Shulem leaves Meira and their toddler for work. Returning unexpectantly a few minutes later, he’s angered to find her listening to an old blues record album. After he lectures her, Meira fakes a dramatic death swoon. Later that day, Felix, while grabbing a coffee at the deli, spots Meira and her daughter at a table coloring an animal drawing in a tiny booklet. He compliments her and mentions that his father has just passed. As the two head out into the street, Felix follows asking for some religious guidance (he recognizes her Hasidic attire). She dismisses him, but as they pass by his home he ducks in, grabs a sketch from the alcove wall, and gives it to them. The next day Meira pops into Felix’s building to see more of his art. The two begin to talk and eventually begin spending afternoons together, often listening to his old recordings. Shulem senses that something is amiss and sends Meira off to visit a cousin in NYC in order to make her a more obedient wife. But it turns out that Felix likes to travel and since he’s just gotten his inheritance….Will this unlikely friendship become something much more serious?

Of the principals in this, basically a love triangle, the most demanding role may be the conflicted woman in the middle, played with great subtlety and grace by the talented Yaron. Meira speaks haltingly, often stares silently, but she emotes volumes with her expressive eyes. Whether she’s chafing at her husbands restrictions or feeling the rush of liberation via live music and blue jeans, Meira’s emotions shine brightly through those “windows to the soul”. Dubreuil as Felix is a virtual motor-mouth in comparison, expressing exactly what’s on his mind while often verbally prodding Meira to open up to him. But he shines in his quiet moments also, particularly when his feelings of familial regret finally bubble up. Twersky as the stern, stoic husband could easily be the hiss-able villain of the piece as he seems to squelch his wife’s spirit, but he treads a delicate tightrope in the role, particularly in a quiet confrontational scene with Felix. His veins are not filled with ice water as he’s able to confess his passion, just not to the one who truly needs to hear the declaration. In her few scenes Bosse essays expertly the role of compassionate sister, one who now almost assumes the maternal duties to her sibling.

This is a quiet intimate character study that’s directed in a languid pace by Maxime Giroux from the screenplay co-written with Alexandre Laferriere. Unfortunately the lack of passion may distance many , since the affection between the leads mainly consists of hand-holding and a caress that brushes away Meira’s wig (a standard head covering). Plus the attraction between the two, aside from that forbidden music, is never fully explored. Why are they drawn to each other, besides her need to escape a smothering marriage. Aside from a ludicrous ploy by Felix that would seem more at home in a TV sitcom, there’s a true slice of life feel to all the scenes. It’s just unfortunate that the film is pieced together in a haphazard fashion in where the characters seem to reverse their actions and feelings with each cut. By the final fade out, we’re left with too many questions and quandaries. FELIX AND MEIRA have a most complex relationship and, like the film itself, it’s never really resolved or fully realized.

3 out of 5

FELIX AND MEIRA opens everywhere and screens exclusively in the St. Louis area at Landmark’s Plaza Frontenac Cinemas