Three Hearts (3 Coeurs)

There was a time in cinema history when a film could get by on its charm, no matter how implausible its plot, especially if it was French. Sadly, we no longer live in such a time. Beno�t Jacquot's "Trois Coeurs" ("Three Hearts") brims with romance, sublime acting and enough trouble to keep your eyes riveted to each scene, but even the most na�ve among us would be hard-pressed to buy its twists, turns and synchronicities.

Marc (Beno�t Poelvoorde) is a tax-inspector from Paris, who is in Lyon on business but misses the last train home. He stops off in a caf� and encounters the raffish Sylvie (Charlotte Gainsbourg). He bums a smoke off her, asks if she knows a place to stay for the night, and they soon find themselves strolling the provincial streets, talking and canoodling until daybreak. Marc's carriage awaits at the train station, but before he boards he makes plans to meet Sylvie later that week at a designated place and time in Paris. No numbers, emails or screen-bumps are exchanged. Like no one else alive on earth today, they leave their upcoming rendezvous to fate.

Yet, comme d'habitude, fate has other plans. Having already moved out on her lover for this guy she just met, Sylvie shows up in Paris on time and waits. Marc's meeting runs late, though, and because he has been ignoring his doctor's orders to stop smoking and look after himself better, he passes out at the wheel as he speeds down the boulevards to honor their appointment. By the time he comes to, Sylvie has taken the train back home. She goes back to her lover, and they move with his new job to America.

Time passes and Marc makes another trip to Lyon, where he meets Sophie (Chiara Mastroianni). Marc could do a lot worse than Sophie, but still she is no Sylvie -- yet, unbeknownst to Marc, Sophie is Sylvie's sister. Somehow, even in the age of Skype and iPhone pics, the years go by and the star-crossed/star-estranged lovers are unaware of one another's identities until they're both in too deep. And that's when the pot gets boiling.

How the plot made it past the producers is anybody's guess. But the leading man and his two sirens exude so much allure and panache, vouz ne les quittez pas! The cinematography is resplendent and well-paced. Throw in Catherine Deneuve as the chain-smoking matriarch par �l�gance, and you might even give it another go-round. But first you'd have to ask yourself: Just how much disbelief are you willing to suspend?