A frothy French riposte to the supernatural sentimentality of Truly, Madly, Deeply, this finds author turned elegy writer Paul (Stéphane Guillon) visited by the all-too-incarnate presence of a long-dead husband with whose vibrant widow he has developed a reluctant infatuation. It sounds grisly, and at times the twee picture postcard Parisian milieu (street-lit cafes; padlocks on the Pont des Arts) drifts into snore-inducing cliche. But there are one or two poignant encounters en route, with the cast keeping things as natural as possible in front of the camera and Belgian director Vincent Lannoo doing his best Woody Allen impression behind it.
