Oh joy. Another pretentious, posy European film whose characters are connected by conversation, not credibility, a veritable avalanche of chat, large chunks of which are extremely phony to boot. In a film about the nature of gay (mainly lesbian) relationships, you can tell that writer-director St茅phane Giusti has given his characters lines he would like them to say rather than any they would actually utter in a real situation. There are, in any case, precious few of those on screen.
Quite a number of scenes are set in Lovespace (and trust me, that's fourth-division irony for you), the publishing house run by three lesbians and a gay man, a company running very close to bankruptcy. Do any of the team ever discus their publishing output or the poor state of the accounts? No, all they prattle on about is relationships and sex, and there is plenty of unfunny humour to slow things down. Why does the director let this come about? It's not as if his characters are in any way needy. On the contrary, they are on the whole irritatingly smug.
The characters, in fact, are thin to the point of invisibility partly due to the director's jumpy approach and because they are primarily a means of communicating thoughts and ideas about relationships. And this contrivance is spectacularly clear when three of the publishing quartet decide to declare all to their folks; an al fresco dinner party ensues (meet this lot at dinner and you'd either doze off or resort to violence) and results in the parents revealing the biggest secrets of all. Except those harboured by the producers of "Pourquoi Pas Moi", who alone must know why the film was made in the first place.