The bond between a psychiatrist and their patient is a sacred one, particularly since they tend to be the people with whom we share our most intimate thoughts, feelings and even the occasional secret. Strict confidentiality cannot be negotiated, and it has always been good practice to maintain trust in one another. Yet, there are instances where a therapist can find themselves getting unusually invested in the lives of their patients, which may be a sign of a poor level of professionalism, but can nonetheless lead to some fascinating discussions around these relationships. This is the foundation of A Private Life (French: Vie privée), in which Rebecca Zlotowski tells yet another compelling character-based story, this time centring on Dr Lilian Steiner, an American expatriate working as a psychiatrist in Paris, which has been not only her professional base for the past few decades, but also the place she calls home. After the death of one of her clients, Lilian finds herself in an awkward position, especially when the family of the deceased attempts to lay the blame on her, believing that Lilian was the catalyst for the thoughts that led to her suicide. However, her tendency to fixate on details coupled with her experience as an analyst leads Lilian to the realisation that perhaps this wasn’t a suicide, but rather a murder in which she is unexpectedly being involved as a scapegoat for the perpetrators. A slick, entertaining film that brilliantly blends crime procedural with dark comedy, A Private Life is a tremendous achievement that features career-best work from everyone on both sides of the camera, and proves to be as thrilling and captivating as it is wickedly funny, a combination that has been the foundation for many terrific works over the years, and one of the several reasons we can appreciate this unconventional and often quite sardonic exploration of the human mind, which has rarely been as scathing as it is under the guidance of a director like Zlotowski, whose vision and nuance work together splendidly to create this unforgettable satire.

Many themes can be considered an appropriate entry-point for a discussion on A Private Life – it’s an exploration of a suicide from the perspective of the therapist who treated the deceased, an investigation into the trials and tribulations of a noble but challenging profession, and a satire of the socio-cultural milieux of contemporary Paris. The one aspect that binds all of these themes together is that of trust, which is perhaps the core principle that Zlotowski and her team are invested in exploring, which they do incredibly well, developing this film into a layered examination of a woman gradually falling into a state of psychosis as a result of a recent obsession that causes her well-maintained life to fall apart. In traditional Hitchcockian fashion, the actual suicide is a bit of a macguffin – its undeniably important in that it progresses the plot, but A Private Life is not actually all that concerned with solving the mystery (and even if it does offer something of a resolution, we aren’t sure whether or not it was authentic or just another layered complication), but rather investigating the experiences of someone who has been plunged into a state of panic upon the realisation that she may have inadvertently been involved in the death of someone, ignoring the cries for help as a result of her growing disconnect with her profession. The film makes some fascinating observations, and it refuses to position Lilian as this brilliant, subversive individual who can easily solve any mystery – in fact, so much of the impact of the film comes from her manhandled attempts to find answers, which only complicate an already difficult situation. These elements work together to create a vibrant and compelling depiction of someone realising that a nice apartment and a pleasant domestic life are not enough to sustain one’s sanity, especially when the passion for the profession that got them there in the first place has entirely eroded – and sometimes, all it takes to reignite that spark is a good, old-fashioned murder mystery.

Without any doubt, the primary reason to seek out A Private Life (and what I’d argue was the entire reason for its existence) is the presence of Jodie Foster in the central role. One of the most celebrated actors of her generation is getting a role that perfectly embodies everything we love about her – fierce intelligence undercut with an authentic playfulness and a deep sincerity, all of which have contributed to her status as one of the most beloved and recognisable voices in cinema over the past few decades. However, this is not just another instance of an American actor trying to scrounge up highbrow appeal by doing some European work – Foster has been quite open about her affection for the culture, having appeared in a couple of French-language films over the years, making this more of a homecoming rather than just an opportunity to earn arthouse credibility. Needless to say, she’s absolutely sublime in the part – eccentric but never excessive, and genuinely invested in developing Lilian as more than just a one-dimensional archetype, which would have been likely had the role been given to most other actors who didn’t see the potential for nuance. To say it’s her best work in years seems redundant – even in the most lacklustre projects, Foster is genuinely fantastic and is always worth watching, and therefore it’s only a matter of a film needing to rise to the high calibre that we always associate with her. She’s so good that even fantastic performances from Daniel Auteuil, Matthieu Amalric and Virginie Efira (whose role is unusually small considering her prior collaboration with the director) are only secondary, despite being quite strong and compelling in their own right. It’s a wonderful cast that works in unison to bring Zlotowski’s vision to life with deft precision and an abundance of both heart and humour, something that is often overlooked in the more cold, clinical psychological thrillers from which A Private Life is clearly taking several cues.

However, as wonderful as Foster may be (and her performance is certainly strong enough to sustain the film), the reason A Private Life works so well is due to its more abstract ideas and how they are realised on screen. Zlotowski is not a newcomer and has always shown a firm command over her craft – her films are slightly conventional, but have an edge that makes them far more enticing than just run-of-the-mill works. This extends to this particular film, which fashions itself as a classical mystery film, set within the lavish apartments and luxurious restaurants of the Parisian elite, using their wealth as the backdrop for what eventually flourishes into a darker and more deceptive tale of betrayal, psychological despair and social division. The precise message that is trying to be communicated is left entirely ambiguous (and ultimately isn’t all that important to the plot – the director seems more interested in planting the seed in the mind of the viewer, rather than forcing it to sprout immediately), and we are forced to assert our own meaning on what is essentially a far more layered narrative than we would expect. The director draws from so many sources in terms of not only the story, but also the tone and aesthetic – Alfred Hitchcock is a perpetual influence, as are classical works of film noir and hardboiled detective fiction, all of which take on a fundamentally different form when filtered through the perspective of a female protagonist, a quality that is not presented to us as the primary motivation for this film, but serves a vital purpose in establishing the core themes that are unpacked throughout the film, which is a much more complicated affair than we would initially imagine at a cursory glance. The oscillation between dark comedy and tense psychological thriller is exceptionally well done, particularly as it helps the film move along at a steady pace, never lingering too long on a particular subject and instead focusing on being as nuanced as possible without spending too long elaborating on points that could feasibly stand on their own.

A Private Life is not a film that purports to redefine the genre or do anything particularly revolutionary. However, it is still effective, not despite these limitations, but as a result of them – taking a narrative structure that has been replicated countless times over the decades, and making small changes to certain aspects allows the film to grow into something broader and more interesting, reflecting on the shortcomings of the genre while also improving on them in the process. It may be easy to just reduce the film to a starring vehicle for its iconic lead, but it is certainly not a vanity project – Foster is as committed to bringing this story to life as she was with nearly every film she was worked on throughout her career, bringing a certain candour and charm that work together to remind us of the unrelenting gifts of one of the great performers of her generation who remains as whip-smart and brilliant today as she was earlier in her career. Beyond her wonderful performance, the film is a carefully constructed work the blends dark comedy and psychological thriller to understand the mind of someone whose entire life has been spent seemingly helping others navigate their personal problem and existential crises, only to realise that she herself is incapable of dealing with such challenges after discovering that she may not be as effective a therapist as she has been led to believe, and that she is not as capable of solving problems and saving lives as she initially thought. Darkly amusing and always very thrilling, anchored by one of the year’s best performances and driven by a sense of controlled chaos that is beautifully rendered in exquisite, complex detail, A Private Life is one of the year’s most wholeheartedly entertaining films, an enticing blend of ideas that work together to create an experience that is as visually and tonally sumptuous as it is conceptually thought-provoking and quietly devastating, proving once again the unimpeachable virtue of a story told with wit, precision and an abundance of commitment to giving the audience something to remember.