Pretty much a Desplechin joint: scattershot, generous, maddening and expansive. One suspects every idea ends up at the movie, for good and for worse. The dozen or so best bits makes up for all the clunkers. The middle age navel gazing here lacks the larger self-interrogation of My Golden Days. Yet, there is a sense of uncentainty, of a world falling apart that is consistent intriguing. Great actors (particular Cotillard and Gainsbourg), but that's too be expect. Sort of an affirming abyss, a very bourgeois walk through a tightrope.

I literally knew nothing about this going in other than Arnaud Desplechin directed it, so you can imagine how happy I was to see Marion Cotillard show up a half hour in.

No man in the cinema has bigger, wilder eyes than Mathieu Amalric.

arnaud desplechin's sandy wexler

Promises much with its Dickens-like set up, but just drifts, proving far too long - a waste of good actors.

even marion cotillard couldn't save this overcomplicated mess of a screenplay

Um filme sobre como é construir filmes; peças ou livros. O processo criativo é destrinchado aqui sutilmente conforme percebemos que os personagens da ficção dentro da fição em Os Fantasmas de Ismael possuem características e situações semelhantes com os personagens da “vida real” que acompanhamos. Porém; ao perceber que essa vida real possui clichês “pesados” demais (como a ex-mulher que ressurge depois de mais de vinte anos desaparecida) tudo fica mais claro para o espectador. www.cinetenisverde.com.br/os-fantasmas-de-ismael/

C’est à force de digressions que Desplechin finit ici par m’aliéner - j’ai beaucoup préféré me perdre dans le récit labyrinthique d’Un conte de Noël. Peut-être est-ce dû au fait qu’Amalric n’était là qu’une maille, alors qu’il est ici le couturier. Peut-être est-ce à cause de l’érosion diégétique du mystère central, où Cotillard et Gainsbourg ne font finalement figures que de pantins désarticulés dans le récit démiurgique d’un metteur en scène démiurgique, maître du dédale, qui à l’instar de son double extra-diégétique lorgne cruellement l’univers derrière son objectif, se délectant dans l’ostentation de sa propre puissance.

The kind of movie that would never garner Oscar buzz for Charlotte Gainsbourg even if it was one of the best performances of the year (which it was). Here, she's effortless, complicated, loyal but appropriately guarded, and charmingly shy despite evident intelligence and subtle, captivating confidence. If nothing else, watch this for her.

In my late teens, I found Despleschin films remarkable. They nurtured my lofty fantasies about art, love, women, intellectual pursuits. The problem was that these stories described his own bourgeois life, not my own working class environment. In other words, they were juvenile fantasies without class awareness or social responsibility.

Fifteen years later, these stories remain the same. The only difference being top billing from France's international exports: Gainsbourg  and Cotillard. They both love the same man, a filmmaker / screenwriter who sees value in tawdry emotions, impulsive sexcapades, and late night arguments in art deco beach houses. Nouvelle Vague clichés! 

Dedalus, Despleschin's alter-ego, played contentiousy by Almaric, is not a writer. Not the serious writer I still aspire to be. This movie sells fantasies to the creative class while purporting sincerity. Not even Hitchcock and Bertolucci references can weave cinematic substance out of these soapy fragments.

Pudo ser buena, y tiene momentos salvables, pero en conjunto no le alcanzan.

this is one big mess of a film