Interviews of a very intimate sexual nature are conducted with suspects in this open plan office with other colleagues than the interviewer overhearing and chipping in smart remarks and interruptions, and no evidence of any formalities at all. Part of the 'drama' is to show how much the events that they deal with 'get' to them, yet there is no suggestion that any back up or counselling is available. There is just a fairly incompetent boss who occasionally emerges from his office. When one of them jumped out of a window she seemed to be taking a wise course of action. I felt like doing the same.
Too much of the film shows the tedious private lives of these people, making much of the film like a dreadful soap opera, as they shout, argue and gesticulate exaggeratedly at each other. Scenes are often allowed to go on too long, for instance, when they all go to a nightclub and we have to endure an interminable dancing display.
There is an implausible and redundant character - a journalist who is on an assignment to photograph the police department. It didn't take me long to guess that this part was played by the maker of the film, Maïwenn, up to something tricksy and cute. She is really called Maïwenn Le Bosco, but has adopted the French affectation of giving herself a one-barrel label. She devoted too much of the film to showing herself in character taking snaps, and no shot of her failed to show the 'red spot' logo of the Leica camera she was using. This was outrageous product placement. I know enough about photography to know that an identical camera is available at half the price but with the Panasonic logo on it, and I can't imagine many serious journalists would pay the necessary extra cash to flaunt a Leica logo. This redundant character nevertheless gives the film maker a chance for a redundant romance in her narrative. As I watched this film, becoming bored with squinting at the face of my watch, I let my eyes close to keep the tediousness at bay. Apparently it won a prize in the Cannes festival.
