Vie Privée
Jodie Foster was hired to do another Flightplan, but half of the film is a French comedy. Sounds terrible, but it works.
Yes, this starts as one of those thrillers where the protagonist was dead all along, swerves into classic French comedy (with naked people fucking in the rain), and destroys its own premise by removing all supernatural elements.
The protagonist was used for the dead lady to euthanize her aunt, but then the testament left her boatloads of money, and she felt guilty. She visits the protagonist again, which is not paying enough attention to see suicidal ideation. Psychiatrist and Patient are mutually infatuated, a match made in hell.
After the swerve into comedy involves hypnosis, past lives as Jews being killed by Nazis, and mail theft, the protagonist learns her lesson: be kind to her kid, get back together with her ex, stop fussing about her work so much.
Vacations? Fucking French.
I knew I had see the Patient before, it’s Benedetta!
This is my place for ramblings about sequences of images that exploit the human visual limitation know as persistence of vision.