Yasmina Reza is an artist and her paint is middle-class bullshit. nobody else captures pretentious rich male nonsense quite like her. it’s so effortless and repugnant and hilarious. idk why I took a massive fucking gap in the middle of this but I finished it today and it had me out-loud chuckling away in public. it’s also a surprisingly heart-warming ending, unlike Dieu de Carnage (another, essentially, 90 minute argument), which has a fairly gross ending. I think. It was a good year ago now that I saw it. Anyway, Serge and Marc should’ve kissed. fuck Yvan. It ends up being a really clever, insightful exploration of what close friendship really means, with Reza’s trademark wit and incisive observations about contemporary blowhardism.