Product Description

Daniel Auteuil (Manon of the Spring) stars as Stephane, the curiously diffident co-owner of an exclusive violin brokerage and repair shop. A brilliant technician, Stephane can make any instrument live up to its promise, yet he himself is emotionally remote and disconnected from passionate experience. His partner, Maxime (André Dussollier), lacks Stephane's gifts but is rich in personality and desire. When Maxime's new lover, a violinist named Camille (Emmanuelle Béart), is drawn to Stephane's still waters, he is briefly moved, thus destroying the fragile, symbiotic relationship between all three individuals.

"Two Thumbs Up!" – Siskel & Ebert

"[it] has the intensity and delicacy of a great short story." – Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times

"superb…haunting...full of unexpected beauty, richness and feeling" – Hal Hinson, Washington Post

WINNER – César Award, Best Director
WINNER – César Award, Best Supporting Actor
WINNER – Venice Film Festival, FIPRESCI Prize
WINNER – Venice Film Festival, Silver Lion
WINNER – London Critics Circle Film Awards, Foreign Language Film of the Year
WINNER – European Film Awards, Best Actor
WINNER – David di Donatello Award, Best Foreign Actor, Best Foreign Actress
WINNER – David di Donatello Award, Best Foreign Film
WINNER – French Syndicate of Cinema Critics, Best Film

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #21318 in DVD
• Brand: Koch International
• Released on: 2006-11-07
• Rating: NR (Not Rated)
• Aspect ratio: 1.66:1
• Formats: AC-3, Color, Dolby, DVD, Subtitled, Widescreen, NTSC
• Original language: French
• Subtitled in: English
• Number of discs: 1
• Dimensions: .25 pounds
• Running time: 101 minutes

Amazon.com
Daniel Auteuil (Manon of the Spring) plays Stephane, the curiously diffident coowner of an exclusive violin brokerage and repair shop. A brilliant technician, Stephane can make any instrument live up to its promise, yet he is emotionally remote himself, disconnected from passionate experience. His partner, Maxime (André Dussollier), lacks Stephane's gifts but is rich in personality and desire. When Maxime's new lover, a violinist named Camille (Emmanuelle Béart), is drawn to Stephane's still waters, the latter is briefly moved, thus destroying the fragile, symbiotic relationship between all three individuals. Veteran French filmmaker Claude Sautet (of the Oscar-winning César et Rosalie) has made a powerful film here expressed in the smallest of gestures, just as one might tune the strings of a violin ever-so-slightly to achieve perfection. Sautet indeed employs such a sonorous motif in this story, in which violins always seem to be playing and suggesting that the principal characters look at life as they do music: something to be tinkered with and manipulated for effect. --Tom Keogh

From The New Yorker
A tale of love and violins, but don't expect "Intermezzo.'' Claude Sautet's film, as its title suggests, is not much of a heartwarmer; but its cool look at thwarted passion is enthralling nonetheless. Stéphane (Daniel Auteuil) makes and mends violins; Camille (Emmanuelle Béart) plays them. The two of them shift from distrust to desire to disappointment-in other words, they go through all the motions of love except the making of it. This is so restrained it's shocking; we feel the terrible pressure of all that Stéphane might do with his life and yet refuses to attempt. With his spirit as buttoned down as his shirts, Auteuil offers a startling portrayal of failure, never hamming it up for the sake of our compassion. André Dussollier turns in an equally quiet performance as Stéphane's business partner and rival in love; add Béart's immaculate poise, and you wonder what strange district of Paris this is, populated largely by emotional cripples. The movie will hardly blow your mind, but there's nothing precious here; Sautet builds up a needling tension, aided by fine renditions of Ravel at his most difficult and plaintive. In French. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006 The New Yorker

Customer Reviews

Sad, Beautiful Tale of Unrequited Love
The title translates as "a heart in winter." A cold heart, bereft of love. A heart incapable of any emotion at all. That describes Stephane (Daniel Auteuil), a solitary violin maker and repairman. A man with the soul of an artist, but none of the talent.

Stephane is partnered with Maxime (Andre Dussollier) in a thriving business. Maxime is everything that Stephane is not: gregarious, confident, extroverted. Together they form a successful team. Maxime brings in the clients and Stephane does the work. They both are quite happy.

One day Maxime introduces Stephane to his new love, Camille (Emmanuel Beart), a beautiful violinist. He is cold to her at first, but the music she makes gradually stirs something in him. She in turns responds to him. She can sense that he has the heart of a musician, but something is wrong. Something is keeping him from opening his heart to anyone else. That something is music. Stephane is surrounded constantly by beautiful music, but none of it emanates from him.

We come to realize why Stephane, once a promising musician, gave up music. The sounds his fingers made could never equal the music he heard in his soul so he quit. Rather than risk the pain of further disappointment in life, he chose instead to feel nothing at all. If that meant forgoing love, it was a price that he had to pay.

Camille eventually confesses to Maxime that she is in love with his partner. Maxime is hurt, but what can he do? She goes to Stephane. We can see that he probably loves her as well, but still he refuses her. He will not allow her into his heart. She is hurt by this, but she has her music and Maxime and, perhaps, that is enough. She is too proud to play the woman scorned.

Emmanuelle Beart gives a truly wonderful performance as Camille. She is stunning to look at, of course, but as a gifted actress, she will not settle for just that. Her work is meticulously crafted, imbibing her role with dignity and grace. She studied for a year to learn to be a convincing violinist and she succeeds magnificently.

Daniel Auteuil is also excellent, playing the difficult part of a man who keeps his thoughts and emotions very much to himself. It is a subtle performance, filled with poignant suggestions and nuances. His carefully guarded expressions and manner prove that still waters do run deep.

As is typical of most of the finer French films, "Un Coeur en Hiver" is a very mature, adult film. Not in the sexual sense--there is nothing even remotely objectionable in it--but rather in terms of its thoughtfulness and sophistication. The relationships in this film, as in real life, demonstrate that love is never easy. There isn't always a happy ending, and just because a man and a woman should get together, that does not mean they will.

He can repair a violin, but can he mend a broken heart?
Directed by Claude Sautet (Oscar-winning Cesar & Rosalie), A Heart in Winter (Un caeur en hiver) is a 1992 French film starring Daniel Auteuil and his 10-year partner, Emmanuelle Béart. Set in Paris, the award-winning film tells the story of a love triangle involving Maxime (André Dussollier), Stéphane (Auteuil) and Camille (Béart). Camille is a beautiful and gifted violinist who embarks on a casual relationship with Maxime, the owner of a violin studio. Stéphane is Maxime's employee, friend and a master craftsman. He is passionate about violins. In sharp contrast to Maxime, who is outgoing and friendly, Stéphane is emotionally remote and brooding. When Camille meets him to have her violin repaired, she falls in love with him and then tells Maxime. From this point in the film, one wonders whether Stéphane will overcome his fear of heartache and sense of loyalty to his employer to take an emotional risk on Camille, or whether, like Anthony Hopkins' emotionally distant character in The Remains of the Day, Camille will become for him a missed opportunity and the source of lifelong regret. Stéphane may be a master craftsman when it comes to repairing violins, but does he know how to repair his own heart, a heart "in winter," seemingly incapable of loving? If not, how could Camille's love for Stéphane ever endure? One of the things I enjoy most about French films such as this one is that, unlike Americans, the French seem so much more grownup in their attitudes toward sex and relationships. The relationship between Camille and Stéphane is not intended to be a typical Hollywood romance. It is more complex, and it may not live up to some viewers' expectations. This film avoids cliches, and the result is a film that feels real.

Daniel Auteuil and Emmanuelle Béart carry the film with their outstanding performances. A Heart in Winter (Un caeur en hiver) won the César Award for Best Director and Best Supporting Actor; the Venice Film Festival FIPRESCI Prize; the Venice Film Festival, Silver Lion Award; the London Critics Circle Film Awards, Foreign Language Film of the Year; the European Film Awards, Best Actor Award; and the French Syndicate of Cinema Critics, Best Film Award.

G. Merritt

Devotion, dreams and their agonising absence
It's a fine art this violin tuning. Watching the characters in Claude Sautet's Un Coeur En Hiver (A Heart in Winter) as they debate the clarity, density and heaviness of that instrument's voice, you may think that it's all in their head. The beautiful instrument's incompetence nothing but a manifestation of their own insecurities. But then the process of watching this lovely film is, in itself, a fine art. In its delicate progress, the viewer is drawn in till he/she hears entire exchanges in a shared glance. Pain, humor, relief and agony in a moment of silence. Another person wondering in midway through the film may ask what in the world is so absorbing. There are scenes of great beauty in the film, there is a superb use of music, "those irrelevant dreams". But as in Sautet's somewhat lesser Nelly and Monsieur Arnaud, what is left unsaid, unresolved and unrequited is far more important then what is.

There are two sets of masters and their apprentices in the film. Maxime (Andre Dussollier) and his business partner Stephane (Daniel Auteuil). Together, they own a shop where the reticent Stephane builds and fixes violins with great precision, and Maxime handles the business and social side of things. Then there is Camille (Emanuelle Beart) and her agent Regine (Brigitte Cattilon). Both Camille and Stephane appear frigid at first, they channel all their energy into their work, while the others live their lives for them. It is a convenient way of life for Stephane, the Heart in Winter of the title. But Camille is still open, still warm enough to seek love. So when Maxime introduces Camille as his lover, there is visible hurt on Stephane's face. At first it seems that he is jealous of her, or him, but then I realised that he was jealous of their readiness to, and faith in love. A tentative and unacknowledged romance develops between Stephane and Camille. They meet at the studio, and he takes her out for a drink. For the first time in the film, she smiles. They seem to be comfortable together. And since this is a French film, love is not defined as some magical formula, but a relationship in which each partner could to dilute their obsessions, to be at ease with themselves. But Stephane freezes, he breaks off all voluntary contact with Camille.

It is tempting to think that this abrupt change of heart on his part was because of fear, a reluctance to give up his carefully constructed world. Perhaps his dedication to his craft was so great, that he feared his love of Camille would lessen the quality of his work. Why would he ever attempt to make the perfect violin when perfection is right beside him in Emmanuelle Beart. And my, is she perfect. It is even more tempting to believe that he has abandoned her for the sake of his friend in a Casablanca sort of sacrifice. What makes the A Heart in Winter so special is that Sautet doesn't choose either of those easy answers, although they are viable. Instead we are left with the tragic notion that there are people like Stephane who are incapable of emotion, "Something is broken inside." In a moving scene, Auteuil drives away from Beart, crying. Some will think his tears are for a love he can never acknowledge. Perceptive viewers will understand he is crying because he knows he can never feel love. All he can feel is the lack.