by Jemimah Steinfeld

In a recent survey conducted by experts at Oxford University, evidence has been discovered to trace a link between psychiatric disorders in fathers and psychiatric disorders in their children. It is believed that fathers who suffer from disorders such as alcoholism and depression often pass on these traits to their children, most specifically to their sons. This might not sound revelatory, but until recently the ken of psychology has been largely restricted to looking at the role of the mother. After all, for centuries it was she who had been at the core of the child’s upbringing.

Bearing this latest disclosure in mind, the release of The Grocer’s Son could not have been more perfectly timed. The film opens in Paris, where Antoine (Nicolas Cazalé) hovers nervously outside the entrance to his father’s hospital room, who is bedridden because of a heart attack. The tension and resentment between the individual members of the family is palpable; when 30 year old Antoine is requested to return home to help out the family during this time of need, his brother acerbically points out that Antoine has turned his back on the family for the past ten years and thus it is his turn.

Grudgingly Antoine takes up the challenge. His character is sullen and awkward – a mix seemingly at odds with how overwhelmingly good looking he is. But the roots of his insecurity become clear upon his return. Helping out with the family grocery business, in which the main costumers are grumpy geriatrics more often than not short of change, the lugubrious nature of the work does little for Antoine’s confidence; nor does the constant criticism that is directed at him from both his brother and father, who use Antoine as a scapegoat for their own sense of inadequacy. It is only when he is joined by Claire (Clotilde Hesme), his infectiously jovial friend from Paris, that his temperament begins to soften.

This does not mean the film is depressing. Far from it. The bucolic, undulating hills of Provence create a dreamy backdrop, and the old peoples’ characters become more risible than miserable with time. The Grocer’s Son therefore strikes an uplifting note and feels more French and charming than a Carla Bruni soundtrack. Sadly, this rosy veneer and the clichés that it encompasses distract from the heart of the subject. While it should be commended for provoking thought on the truism ‘like father, like son’, its hard-hitting elements are too subtle and watered down; despite poised performances from all involved, like the study of father-child psychiatry itself, you leave feeling there is room for a lot more to be said.

The Grocer’s Son is playing at the ICA on specific days throughout May.

For more information call: Box Office: 020 7930 3647 / Switchboard: 020 7930 0493

http://www.ica.org.uk/