by MATTHEW HAYS

Going by its brief plot synopsis, it sounds like one of those Euro films that’s bound to bore the living hell out of you. But Man on the Train, the latest from filmmaker Patrice Leconte, is, in fact, a charming feature that kept me entertained throughout.

The film has a crook (played with a cool intensity by French rock star Johnny Hallyday) showing up in a small town (by train, thus the title) intent upon robbing its main bank within a few days. He bumps into an older poet (Jean Rochefort, also excellent) and the two end up talking, and returning to Rochefort’s home where they have a conversation about their lives. Two polar opposites, they end up bonding, each fascinated with the other’s life choices.

Rochefort, as it turns out, never got to shoot a gun. And Hallyday never got to wear a pair of slippers, footwear he finds extremely civilized and non-crook-like. As they assess each other’s lives with varying degrees of envy, their meeting allows them to think back on their own lives, their shortcomings as well as regrets. It’s a painfully bittersweet film, but told without any of the plodding, maudlin notes that in less sturdy hands could have sunk the entire endeavour.

Leconte (Ridicule, Rues des plaisirs) has gained a reputation as an actor’s director, and that quality isn’t questioned here. Seeming to understand perfectly what was necessary for these roles, Leconte allows Hallyday and Rochefort to fulfill their characters beautifully. Hallyday, considered France’s own Elvis, is both rough and charming as the criminal, and manages some moments of true hilarity when having to cope with his dimwitted crook peers.

But Man on the Train is a marvel primarily for its minimalism: this is a sweet film about two men reflecting on lives they might have had. As Hallyday heads towards his burglary date, Rochefort prepares himself for open-heart surgery. The buildup makes for a neat little climax, the result of which would be criminal to give away.

Man on the Train opens Friday, July 11

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