In the Name of My Daughter (L’homme qu’on aimait trop) had a most unique set of disclaimers – first the film stated that it was based on a true story, and then it readily acknowledged that certain events were invented for dramatic purposes. Huh. Well, that’s quite a gambit – “based on stuff we lied about.” This better not have a true-to-life ending, then. Oh.
Divorcee Agnès Le Roux (Adèle Haenel) has returned home to be bullied by her casino-playa’ mother Renée Le Roux (Catherine Deneuve). Renée owns the place, more-or-less, but needs board approval to run it. There’s a ton of business in this film, and it’s important to understand that not a single bit of it actually matters. In fact, so put off am I by the irrelevant economics within the picture, I’m going to look up the French word for “cheat.” (My source tells me trompeur, tricheur, and fraude are all acceptable.)
I mean, what do you make of a scene where newly appointed casino director Renée arrives at her office and finds a bullet on her desk? That would make you curious, right? Now, suppose I told you that we never find out who left the bullet there or why, and in retrospect the movie wasn’t about that stuff anyway. Why, movie, why?
Renée’s #2 is ladies’ man Maurice Agnelet (Guillaume Canet). He didn’t strike me much as a ladies man, but then, I’m not French. Sure, he lends Agnès a coat when she interrupts her airport arrival for an ocean swim, but, he really didn’t fit the part otherwise. I guess the movie didn’t think so, either, as while in the process of setting the two up, we have a sultry character taunt Agnès one-on-one with a “they all become his lovers eventually.” If we believe it when we see him ourselves, we don’t need this scene. This moment, of course, sets Agnès on the “give in” path, where plots are made. The aloof coed twentysomething goes from “take him or leave him” to Fatal Attraction obsessive in about 30 seconds of screentime. This did allow for a moment where Agnès greets Maurice naked. 
You know, if a woman asks you over and she’s naked at the door, there’s a slight chance she likes you.
There seemed to be an understanding in this poorly titled production that good films often contain certain scenes, like a boardroom powerplay scene or a courtroom scene. What Daughter failed to recognize, however, was how many of these scenes there should be, where you might place them in a film and, most importantly, why they should be included. For instance, why end this film with a trial? You’ve admitted to us in the opening that you fudged the events, but the post-credits suggest that the results of the trial were not fudged. What’s the point of that? You’ve clouded our judgment with fiction just to get to something real which may or may not match what we’ve seen? True to life trials don’t offer truth or insight; in fact, they often cloud it. It’s like In the Name of My Daughter suddenly remembered, “oh yeah. This is a mystery” and then proceeded to go on an extra 30 minutes without giving a single insight into that mystery.
I don’t wish to hold a grudge
For this French film I’m going to judge
But if based on real
And fiction you steal
I think I’d rather you fudge
Rated R, 116 Minutes
D: André Téchiné
W: Cédric Anger, André Téchiné
Genre: Failed embellishment
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: French scandal junkies
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Fans of courtroom drama
