Colours of Time

Cédric Klapisch has showcased Paris before in the 2008 film of the same name and the city gets to strut its stuff again in two distinctive time periods in his latest soufflé-light but satisfying quasi-costume drama. In the present, the three distant branches of a large extended family have been brought together by an unexpected inheritance. The small Normandy cottage once owned by their predecessor Adèle Meunier is wanted by developers who plan to create a state-of-the-art shopping mall – an elaborate description of which is one of the many modern-day vagaries Klapisch torches along the way, in the manner of a drive-by shooting.

Members of the family must be there when the cottage is opened. Urged on by his grandfather (François Chattot) young vidoegrapher/’content’ creator Seb (Abraham Wapler) goes along, with anti-capitalist beekeeper Guy (Vincent Macaigne), Abdel (Zinedine Soualem), a teacher on the brink of retirement, and stressed-out high flier Céline (Julia Piaton). It’s there that the past – and specifically, Paris’s early impressionist period – starts to manifest itself, first as Seb takes a doze, as we meet the young Adèle in 1895, on the brink of leaving the countryside for the first time, following the death of her grandmother, to head for Paris in the hopes of finding the mother she has never met.

There’s a fairy-tale element to this – and once the famous names start to be introduced, including Sarah Bernhardt, it becomes obvious it’s no history lesson – but that suits the crowdpleasing material well. Klapisch creates the sort of environment where coincidences are welcome, so as Adèle boards a boat bound for the city, she immediately befriends two young and undeniably wholesome men who are also heading to Paris, photographer Anatole (Paul Kircher) and budding artist Lucien (Vassili Schneider).

When her first encounter with her mum Odette (Sara Giraudeau, emotionally vibrant) doesn’t go as planned, she ends up hunting down her two new friends, setting the scene for a series of enjoyable encounters in a Paris where the newly built Eiffel Tower is just one indication of a future that is quickly making its presence felt (the film’s French title means ‘The Coming of The Future’, and has punning properties besides when used to refer to a literal ‘street of lights’ we see in the film, whereas the Colours Of Time is poetic but more straightforwardly so).

Klapisch’s moves between time periods are a bit hit and miss. The dream sequence is, of course, the oldest trick in the book, but at other moments the transition is considerably more elegant. He and his co-writer Santiago Amigorena are not afraid to make a joke of it either – as evidenced by a torchlit scene in which the present day group of relations take an ayahuasca trip that is played for laughs.The romantic elements of the impressionist era are balanced by situational comedy in the present as the group begin to investigate the life of Adèle via her belongings. Klapisch’s sympathies lie with his country’s forebears rather than a modern world where Zoom turns participants into cats and where influencers request that the colours of paintings by grand masters be changed in post so as not to clash with a dress. This inevitably makes the past more magnetic than the present but that gives us more opportunity to really appreciate the fine costume work from Pierre Yves-Gayraud and production design by Marie Cheminal.

The world of Colours Of Time is an undeniably safe place, where nobody is a bad guy, everyone is doing their best and humanity is to the fore, but as Klapisch gently argues, photorealism is all very well, but you can’t beat the lingering warmth of something more impressionistic.

Reviewed on: 30 May 2025