The Tomatometer rating – based on the published opinions of hundreds of film and television critics – is a trusted measurement of movie and TV programming quality for millions of moviegoers. It represents the percentage of professional critic reviews that are positive for a given film or television show.
From the Critics
From RT Users Like You!
The Tomatometer is 60% or higher.
The Tomatometer is 59% or lower.
Movies and TV shows are Certified Fresh with a steady Tomatometer of 75% or higher after a set amount of reviews (80 for wide-release movies, 40 for limited-release movies, 20 for TV shows), including 5 reviews from Top Critics.
Percentage of users who rate a movie or TV show positively.
The movie is as airy as a spun-sugar dessert, but Thompson's observations on the artistic life are both affectionate and knowing: Beauty and wealth, though inevitably compelling, are appreciated as means to humane ends, not goals in themselves.
Watching the charming Avenue Montaigne makes you realize not only how much we miss when mainstream French films are not on the movie menu, but how much we miss when American studios define 'romantic comedy' so strictly.
When it all wraps up as neatly as the treacliest Hollywood film, we don't feel cheated, but rather enjoy the satisfaction of a story resolved, and we're happy for each of the people we have spent our hour with.
The picture is very obviously crafted as a fable. Its characters are stereotypes at the beginning, but our focus sharpens as we watch them: They sneak out of the roles we've assigned to them and become people instead.
It's formula stuff, to be sure, but full of feeling for the sweep of the past as well as for the unsettled, yearning present. Echoes of Juliette Gréco, Gilbert Bécaud and Charles Aznavour haunt the soundtrack.
Avenue Montaigne would be difficult to stomach if it weren't so light and uninsistent, and if its actors weren't so charming. I still rolled my eyes -- but sometimes I do that when I get a really good croissant.
Love is in the air, obviously, and so is the smell of mothballs. Fans of Diane Johnson's books (Le Divorce) may fetishize the Paris depicted in Avenue Montaigne, but at times it feels like a diorama of bourgeois natives.
Pleasant is perhaps the best word to describe the film. It entertains while it lasts, does not overstay its welcome (1:45 feels just about right), and provides reasonable closure to all the storylines.