The odd couple trope is one that has been done to death in fiction, but yet it still yields such positive results nearly every time, since audiences seem to adore seeing the contrast between two wildly different individuals that are placed in close proximity to one another, hilarity and heartfelt antics very likely pursuing as a result. A recent example of this can be found in Robust (French: Robuste), a charming comedy written and directed by Constance Meyer, who tells the story of an ageing French movie star (played by Gérard Depardieu) who is assigned a private security guard (Déborah Lukumuena), who isn’t prepared for the many challenges she would have to face, realizing that her new job entails her not solely being his security, but occupying every role from psychotherapist to earnest companion to a man clearly undergoing a crisis of identity. What starts as a neutral and professional relationship between two very different individuals soon flourishes into a very meaningful friendship, as they get to know one another and see beneath the veneer that they present to the outside world. Meyer makes quite an ambitious directorial debut with Robust, perhaps not in theory – the story is extremely simple and relies more on the screenplay and the actors’ interpretation of these characters, both components being absolutely brilliant – but her execution is precise, earnest and meaningful, all vital elements of this deeply enthralling comedy about the importance of friendship, and how we often find the most important people come to us when we least expect it – and through solid performances, excellent writing and an abundance of well-placed emotion, Robust is a truly lovable film that proves how the most simple stories are often the most effective.

There’s something so captivating about seeing two polar opposites interacting in a situation where their inner lives are put on display. The contrast between an eccentric actor teetering dangerously close on the edge of a breakdown, and his much younger security guard, who just so happens to be a promising young athlete in her own right, is fertile ground for a thrilling and captivating excursion into contemporary France, carefully constructed by a director who aimed to add nuance to a very common set of generic conventions. Robust is not a particularly complex film, and in many ways it works as a relatively straightforward, by-the-numbers comedy, with the addition of a few dramatic moments to add stakes to what is quite a basic story on its own. The charm comes in the execution of the story, which is never too overly invested in taking itself seriously, while still having a few deeper conversations, which come about through the relationship between the two main characters, as well as a few individuals in the periphery that add to the mosaic of human curiosity that likely compelled Meyer to put this film together, and for the actors to take on these roles. It can sometimes veer towards being slightly hysterical, especially in the later portions of the film, where it is clear that the director is trying to add more sobering material to what has been a relatively effervescent and charming endeavour. These moments resound with authenticity, not because they’re necessarily saying anything revolutionary, but because they’re delivered with such striking honesty. we can’t resist being moved by the pure emotion at the heart of the story, which is one of the many ways Robust moves beyond being entirely conventional.

Although his questionable (and often quite inappropriate) shenanigans has made him persona non grata for many people, it’s difficult to deny that Gérard Depardieu is a great actor, albeit one that hasn’t delivered too many stellar performances in the last two decades, almost seeming to default to depending in his reputation amongst the industry to get by on roles that are certainly not worthy of his gifts. Luckily, Robust joins a small group of recent efforts by the actor to turn in a complex performance, with the character of Georges, an actor coming to terms with his progressing age and the realization that he may no longer be as relevant as he was at his peak, being some of his best work in recent years. Meyer is certainly fearless in casting Depardieu for the role of a hedonistic, foul-mouthed movie star with serious delusions of grandeur and the odd moment of drunken madness – but the fact that he agreed to play this role (and seemed to be enjoying it as well) only shows that there is some degree of self-awareness somewhere in the actor’s oeuvre, and that he’s capable of poking fun at himself. Déborah Lukumuena, who has already had a few stunning moments in films like Divines and Invisibles, continues her streak of turning in fascinating and insightful character work that situates her as one of the most promising young actresses working today. The quiet but intelligent companion to Depardieu’s loud-mouth heathen, Aïssa is a fascinating character, brought to life with heartbreaking honesty by Lukumuena, who stands shoulder-to-shoulder with her famous co-star, seemingly unmoved and unintimidated by his presence, which creates a genuine feeling of companionship between these two characters, since the performances reflect the mutual respect felt by the leads, making the film such a poignant exercise in meaningful character development, both on the part of the writer-director, and the actors who shepherd these individuals to the screen.

It’s a very lightweight and enjoyable version of meta-film, with Depardieu taking on a role quite similar to his own persona, although Georges being an actor who is not nearly as well-regarded is part of the fictionalizing aspects of the story. As a whole, Robust has many very strong ideas, all of which come through in the dynamic between the two main characters. There isn’t a particularly linear train of thought in terms of plot progression, and instead of a very clear and coherent storyline, much of the film takes the form of a series of moments in the lives of these two characters, both individually and in their working relationship, which are woven together to form this varied tapestry of a budding friendship between two individuals who would likely never even acknowledge the other if they weren’t placed in such close contact. The loose construction of the story may seem like it results in a scattered, inconsistent narrative – but it works exceptionally well, especially when the writing reveals deeper context to this companionship, which grows to be a lot deeper as the film goes on. There’s a weight to the film that continuously seems to be pushing the story forward, keeping us engaged as we see these characters navigate different challenges – and both actors rise to the occasion, neither one aiming to outshine the other, instead making a clear effort to support and redefine the questions asked throughout the film. It’s an approach that depended on the deep sense of authenticity that emerges from these interactions, and it easily overtakes the more cliched aspects that were always going to trickle through as a result of the genre and the nature of the story.

Not necessarily a realist text, nor the slice-of-life drama, Robust is still very much about giving us authentic insights into the lives of these characters, and through actively avoiding overly heavy-handed commentary, and keeping the emotions relatively consistent (rather than defaulting to hysterical drama or over-the-top humour, both of which would’ve removed the sense of genuine honesty from the film), Meyer’s work is an impeccably-crafted, and always consistently funny, glimpse into the trials and tribulations of a pair of unexpected friends. It’s a multilayered and meaningful exploration of two individuals and their persistent attempts to find their own place in a world in which they feel they no longer belong – this is the crux of the story, as the narrative hinges on both their differences and similarities, the latter ultimately outweighing the former. Robust is a delightful film, filled with good-natured comedy and an abundance of emotion, absolutely none of it all that contrived. The combination of the two main actors, who are doing some absolutely incredible work, and the characters that they represent, make this film a charming journey into an offbeat, unexpected relationship that challenges conventions, goes against the status quo and celebrates life in between moments of deep insecurity and internal turmoil. It may be unassuming, and perpetually oscillates tonally and narratively, but the sheer amount of heart, and seemingly endless stream of honest commentary, all work together to create this vivid and meaningful comedy about life and its many unexpected challenges – as well as the importance of looking beyond these obstacles and just embracing the smaller joys that occur in between them.