Frankie (Isabelle Huppert) is a world-renowned actress, known by audiences for her film and television work that have made her a beloved cultural icon. However, what her admirers don’t know is that Frankie is dying – she has been diagnosed with cancer and is in the last stages of her life. As a response to her realization that her time is limited, she sets out to have one final vacation, with her family by her side. They include her husband, Jimmy (Brendan Gleeson), and his predecessor, Michel (Pascal Greggory), as well as their son Paul (Jérémie Renier) and Jimmy’s daughter (Vinette Robinson ) and her family. Also along for the trip is Ileen (Marisa Tomei), a former collaborator and longtime friend of the titular character, who brings along her boyfriend (Greg Kinnear), much to the chagrin of Frankie, who was hoping that a spark could be ignited between Ileen and Paul, who is set to move to New York, and would presumably need a companion of sorts so that he did not feel so alone. Slowly, Frankie reveals the truth of the situation to her family and friends, who not only have to deal with their own personal quandaries but also the shocking news that someone they dearly adore is at the end of her life. Over the course of a few days, the characters wander the gorgeous landscapes of Sintra, working through their emotions and coming to terms with the harsh reality of life, and in the process learning a great deal about existence, proving that sometimes it takes a tragedy to fully appreciate what you had in the first place.

Ira Sachs has always been a great embodiment of independent cinema and everything it stands for – his work often takes the form of tranquil meditations on existence, where interactions between ordinary people are woven into visual poetry that sees the director looking at some grave themes with a certain delicate touch that makes them truly compelling works of neo-realism. This fact is important to remember when approaching Frankie, a film that bears all the qualities of Sachs’ previous films but has unfortunately gained something of a negative reputation due to some qualities embedded in the film being very different from what most would expect from a film like this. I’ll not deny that Frankie is a deeply flawed film – it has some problems with the script, and there are some performances in here that range from unnecessary to outright awful – but the general message of the film, along with the beautiful scenery and some impressive work done by some of the actors, means that this is a film that does have more going for it than most would tend to acknowledge. It isn’t an easy film, and it does feel as if Sachs is putting in too much effort to be profound (especially considering some of his previous work has seen him demonstrate a kind of easygoing restraint that makes his work so delightfully endearing), but it does provoke some serious questions, and manages to make a statement about life and death, looking at the issues most films try to navigate around. It takes some risks, and while they don’t always work out, they’re not enough to distract from the fact that Frankie is a well-meaning film that has its shortcomings, but it otherwise as pleasant and charming a drama as we can expect from a director who has made his career peddling these kinds of meaningful glimpses into the human condition.

There’s something about Sintra that is just beyond captivating – looking at the region from afar just does not do the natural splendour any justice, and anyone who has been there will tell you how its a place that grabs hold of your soul and never lets go. This seems to be the impetus for Sachs’ film, with the director taking an excursion into the Portuguese countryside, constructing the story not in the familiar cities we’ve come to expect these kinds of quiet emotional dramas to take place in, but in a territory almost unchartered by film, especially those from outside Portugal. Sintra is positioned in a way where it becomes the star of the film – the rugged natural beauty, combined with the gorgeous architecture and cultural idiosyncrasies, all seem to evoke a kind of profundity, which gives the film a lot more depth and allows the director to venture into conveying meaning not solely through human interaction, but moments of solitude, where the individual situates themselves in a kind of poetic isolation that allows them to question life and its many challenges with more clarity. Frankie didn’t need to be set in Sintra – there isn’t much, if anything, about this film that means it had to be restricted to this town, and it could’ve just as easily found itself situated in any location around Europe. Yet, this region has a certain mysticism, not only in some of the metaphysical beliefs harboured by locals, but also the magical atmosphere that pervades it, and gives it the sensation of feeling very different from anywhere else. Sachs does manage to capture some of the spirit of Sintra, which services this wonderfully simple story about human experiences, and the existential issues that tend to befall us all on occasion. You could argue that he is far too preoccupied with the beauty of the landscape – Frankie is filled with moments of characters silently walking through the territory, which does take on the appearance of self-indulgence. However, when contrasted with the soulfulness of the story, it becomes quite moving, even if there could’ve been more done with this compelling premise.

Something that has come to be proven true on many occasions, particularly recently, is that when Isabelle Huppert leads a film, you’re left with very little option other than being at least somewhat curious. While not necessarily a sudden realization, Huppert has established herself as an actress that can do absolutely anything, bringing elegance, humour and pathos to every role, regardless of the quality of the film around it. Even when the story she’s given is plagued with problems, Huppert rises above it, and often delivers outstanding work that shows her as supremely talented, especially in this new stage of her career, where she is truly at the forefront of the auteur-driven arthouse, being the muse of countless global filmmakers. Sachs, who has often derived some of the best work out of his actors, fashions the titular role in Frankie for Huppert, and gives her a character that should, based on the premise, be something not only within her capacities but also another new venture for the actress. It’s difficult to judge Huppert in this film, not only because she is as graceful and mesmerizing as ever, but because the role is not particularly good. Frankie is a character that works the most as a plot device, a subject for other characters to discuss, rather than someone whose growth is central to the film. It doesn’t mean Huppert isn’t wonderful – she delivers her performance with the same quiet ferocity that she always does – but rather that she’s given a role that flourishes more in concept than she does in execution. Frankie is so concerned with the psychological and emotional machinations of the family, it often neglects to give the character herself much to do. However, Huppert does rise above it, and manages to give a tremendously heartfelt performance, particularly in the third act, when the subject of her mortality becomes central to the film. She approaches Frankie with the charm and wit that made some of her more serene films work, and while she doesn’t do anything she hasn’t done before, she captures a kind of stoic repose that grounds the film and tends to quietly linger in a wonderful way.

Frankie is the core of the film, but it’s the other characters that propel it forward. Brendan Gleeson and Pascal Greggory are exceptional, making great use of their skills learned from years of being hardworking actors in the European arthouse, giving some heart-wrenchingly beautiful performances. Greggory has only a few moments where he stands out, but he steals every scene he is in, through his composure, despite having one of the most heartbreaking roles in the film. Gleeson, who has rarely been this endearing, takes on a more reserved role than he’s normally come to be known for and instead finds himself being, along with Huppert, the emotional crutch for the rest of the film. Jérémie Renier and Marisa Tomei also have substantial roles and deliver impressive performances that give the film some momentum in how it approaches a very emotional story. Tomei, in particular, proves herself to be one of the most tragically unheralded actresses of her generation, with her naturalistic performance as Ileen, a woman teetering dangerously close on a complete breakdown. The film really starts making an impact in the scene where Huppert and Tomei are alone together, and the latter reveals her ailment, with both demonstrating an incredible emotional restraint that perfectly summarizes exactly what Sachs was trying to say with this film – unfortunately, this comes far too late to really influence the rest of the emotional experience, thus preventing the film from consistently taking this line of characterization, and losing what is the crucial element towards a successful film. While most of the cast of Frankie is good, some don’t contribute all that much – Greg Kinnear, who is normally a welcome presence, serves very little purpose in the film and could’ve easily been left out completely, as could Vinette Robinson, with both actors playing characters that work only as plot devices rather than being essential to the film. There’s no reason why they couldn’t have been restricted to much smaller roles, or rather not been shoehorned into the film at all, with some of the more important characters being given more space to flourish. The cast isn’t all bad, and there are some genuinely great performances, even if none of them are doing their best work here, but at the very least could be amongst their most emotionally resonant.

Where Frankie doesn’t do so well is directly related to the cast – Sachs assembles a great international ensemble and gives them some interesting characters to play. However, the film seems to think this is enough – it doesn’t realize that having incredible actors doesn’t solely amount to a good film. The biggest shortcoming is strangely found in the area Sachs’ films normally tend to be the strongest: the script. Frankie doesn’t have the most coherent script, and so much of the film is composed of disjointed dialogue that seems to have the appearance of being profound, but actually turns out to be quite the contrary, with the majority of scenes only working due to the actors being able to rise above the cliches of the dialogue. The film seems to struggle with the tone it wants to take, even though there was nothing preventing the director from working his many ideas together, as he has done before in the past. Never sure if it wants to be a bittersweet comedy or a heartwrenching drama, the film doesn’t seem to have the capacity to choose a single direction. This is much less of a problem than it seems – the acting is good enough, and the surroundings are beautiful enough to distract from the dialogue, which was so clearly not a priority for the filmmaker, who opted to try and convey the meaning of the film through other means, not being aware that had he made the script a bit tighter and allowed for some development in some characters, and the elision of others, Frankie would’ve been a much bigger success.

Frankie is a challenging film – Sachs has been such a fiercely independent filmmaker, to see him make something that doesn’t necessarily change his style, but rather serves to be a weakened version of it, is quite disheartening. However, it isn’t a bad film by any means – it is elevated by some great performances, and a general atmosphere that helps compensate for the narrative shortcomings that occur from time to time throughout the film. Huppert is as good as she has ever been, even though she doesn’t get much to do, and her chemistry with the rest of the cast (particularly Gleeson, Renier, Tomei and Greggory) is worth watching this film to see. It is a delicate, poetic film about life and death, and Sachs manages to effectively convey the deeper meaning without needing to resort to overtly saccharine storytelling, which is certainly very admirable. Taken for what it is, Frankie is a relatively good film – it has a premise that facilitates a lot of discussion, and the execution to pull it off just enough to be effective, which is always something that should be considered worthwhile, especially when dealing with subject matter that could’ve otherwise been extremely contrived. The faults in the film are not enough to dampen the poetic approach to existential issues, with Sachs once again providing us with another masterful exploration of the human condition. It doesn’t amount to everything it could’ve been, but when you set out to make something as ambitious as this, then you can be forgiven for not meeting your full potential. This film just needed a little more to become the masterful work of social realism it was aiming to be, landing just short of brilliance.