Sophie Marceau in Anthony Zimmer

In Nice, the international police force and the Russian mafia are chasing , an intelligent man responsible for laundry of dirty money in France.  had extensive plastic surgery, and his new face and voice are completely unknown. The only means to reach Zimmer is through his beloved mistress Chiara, who is under surveillance of the police and the mobsters. While traveling by train to the country nearby Nice, the common man François Taillandier, who has the same body shape of Zimmer, is select by Chiara as if he were Zimmer and used as a bait to lure those that are pursuing her. When Taillandier is chased by the professional Russian killers, he runs the French police when the real situation begins to be disclosed to him.

...or she in his? Captivating, elegant little thriller. It's not spectacular in any obvious way, yet I couldn't take my eyes off the screen for just one second. It starts out almost exactly like "Mr Bean's Holiday": a guy on a southbound express train, headed for the coast, hoping for recreation. Which he won't find. That's where the the script leaves the common ground. It's rich in twists and turns, clever to the point of cunning. Production design and cinematography are among the most elegant you will find. Cool, minimalistic interior sets contrast with the time-tested cinematic sparkle of the Côte D'Azur. Similarly, wide-angle shots are inter-cut with extreme close-ups, e.g., of pills dancing on a shaking spiral staircase, the pulsing red halo of the caller light on a ringing telephone, or a pair of shades dropped casually into an earthenware bowl. Scenes you have seen a thousand times, this movie makes you see them with new eyes: a guy killing time watching TV, a car chase in an underground parking lot, or someone having coffee and reading the paper in the morning sun. Admittedly, Sophie Marceau helped to keep me interested. She plays a woman six years her junior, and she more than gets away with it. She is in the shape of her life. I think she may have had something done to her face, but it looks good and doesn't show. I can see why President Mitterand took her on his trips abroad as an icon of French allure. The five-second scene in which she wires herself for the showdown alone made it worth my while. The final plot twist may not be up to common standards of plausibility, but it doesn't subtract from 90 minutes spent in silent wonder at what the French can do with a little sunshine and lot of mascara.