Dimanches d’août
by
In Nice, a former photographer sees the husband of the woman he ran off with seven years earlier and whom then, wearing an extremely valuable diamond of dubious origins, disappeared in the company of an enigmatic and increasingly intimidating couple. But was she really married to this man? What actually happened? The slow tease that is the plot of Dimanches d’août (1986) and its circular narrative frustrated me; I had to go back and re-read the first third after I’d finished fully to appreciate. Still, this slim quasi-“polar” haunted me after I read. Which seems like a good thing.