Taking a more natural interpretation of D. W. Griffith’s phrase by way of Jean-Luc Godard—”All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun”—Caroline Vignal’s disarmingly endearing comedy My Donkey, My Lover & I swaps a weapon for an animal and adds just the right amount of farce without losing sight of an emotional throughline. Hailing from the only country one would expect to deliver a high-concept rom-com where a donkey gets the top title billing, this French adventure may seem like a trifle on paper, yet Vignal and lead Laure Calamy find substantial charm traversing familiar paths.
Harnessing enough confidence (or obliviousness) to strip down and change outfits before her primary school students ahead of a song recital—in which she commands the spotlight as lead vocals and pianist—Calamy’s Antoinette seems to still be finding footing in life. It’s certainly the case when it comes to her romantic pursuits while he continues an affair with Vladimir (Benjamin Lavernhe), father to one of her pupils. Her plans for a getaway are dashed when he reveals he’s taking his own family on a hike, so she quickly books a similar trip to follow in his footsteps. Guided by Robert Louis Stevenson’s memoir Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes, Antoinette’s inexperience in the field leads to booking the antiquated method of, yes, traveling with a donkey. And so begins a journey of stubborn self-discovery.
After fellow travelers on the six-day hike act as a Greek-chorus-of-sorts to weigh in on the morality of Antoinette’s decisions, one may think a melodrama of high order is in store, her affair inevitably unraveling in the public eye. Vignal, refreshingly, has little interest in convoluted complications of the heart. These are characters who simply say whatever is on their mind as concisely as possible, providing an invigoratingly airy mood that matches cinematographer Simon Beaufils’ exquisite vistas of southern France.
Though Vladimir is in fact a certain kind of jackass, the one Antoinette spends the most time with on her journey is the mule Patrick, doubling as a (fairly obvious) metaphor for seemingly unmovable romantic baggage in her life and, eventually, the only companion with whom she can truly have a heart-to-heart. Deservedly picking up the Best Actress award at the Césars, Calamy delights in these pseudo-therapy sessions, providing just the right bubbly dose of heartbreak and humor. Vignal also excels at finding brief moments of piercing honesty. During one of her overnight stays, the couple that owns the establishment is playfully cleaning up dishes, leading to Antoinette witnessing this minor display of affection and bursting into tears. This sense of brevity and the way Calamy can sell a pain that seems long-brewing while also finding pleasure in her less-than-ideal voyage is the film’s defining strength.
A brief appearance from The Green Ray‘s Marie Rivière can only recall the godfather of films of this ilk, Éric Rohmer. While Vignal’s second feature––and first in two decades––doesn’t hold a candle to the way that director was able to conjure immense pathos with the most effervescent of touches, My Donkey, My Lover & I is a sun-kissed, transportive charmer that doesn’t bring much new to the table yet never hits a snag. In other words: the ideal summer watch.
My Donkey, My Lover & I opens in theaters on July 22.