Your girlfriend sleeping around can be a king-hell headache. Your girlfriend as a French film character sleeping around for the express purpose of converting right-wing dimwits is a fairly innocuous conceit. Sara Forester (as Baya Benmahmoud) pulls off this dicey role with just enough ease and charm to allow straight-arrow Jacques Gambin (as Arthur Martin) to seem less the shabby cuckold than, er, the lucky overachiever. Hell, she chooses Arthur to be her steady man despite his liberal persuasions because she actually likes him.

Farce is a peculiar genre. If it’s working well, the larger the affectation, the bigger the fun. To watch Baya adroitly captivate her way to her greater cause of cleaning up all the “fascists” (there’s one in every nook and cranny) by means of good, solid sexual convincing is to be more amused than disgusted. Arthur is so aloof and above it all, he never seems to be going along with the shenanigans out of a desperate need to himself sleep with this beautiful, utra amusing kook; he’s also genuinely fascinated with the purity of her ideals. Not that her naivete doesn’t cause him problems. Quick with the art of the faux pas, Baya, a proud Arab, rattles the feathers of Arthur’s complacency once she convinces him to allow her to meet his Jewish family (his Mom lost her parents during the holocaust).

Sprinkled with poignant scenes addressing cross-cultural issues (French/Arab as well as Arab/Jew), The Names of Love is an adroit comic counterpart to the dramatic films of Turkish/German director Fatih Akin (the brilliant Head-On, 2004). Forestier is astonishingly delightful in a role that in lesser hands could easily have sunk the film. Strikingly in charge of her unique situation, Baya’s moments of vulnerability stand out in convincing stark contrast. Director Michel Leclerc channels Woody Allen, right down to Arthur having onscreen discussion with his teenage self whenever the going gets testy. The film’s a hoot, yet not without pensive punch.

7.5 faux pas out of 10

Your girlfriend sleeping around can be a king-hell headache. Your girlfriend as a French film character sleeping around for the express purpose of converting right-wing dimwits is a fairly innocuous conceit. Sara Forester (as Baya Benmahmoud) pulls off this dicey role with just enough ease and charm to allow straight-arrow Jacques Gambin (as Arthur Martin) to seem less the shabby cuckold than, er, the lucky overachiever. Hell, she chooses Arthur to be her steady man despite his liberal persuasions because she actually likes him.

Farce is a peculiar genre. If it’s working well, the larger the affectation, the bigger the fun. To watch Baya adroitly captivate her way to her greater cause of cleaning up all the “fascists” (there’s one in every nook and cranny) by means of good, solid sexual convincing is to be more amused than disgusted. Arthur is so aloof and above it all, he never seems to be going along with the shenanigans out of a desperate need to himself sleep with this beautiful, utra amusing kook; he’s also genuinely fascinated with the purity of her ideals. Not that her naivete doesn’t cause him problems. Quick with the art of the faux pas, Baya, a proud Arab, rattles the feathers of Arthur’s complacency once she convinces him to allow her to meet his Jewish family (his Mom lost her parents during the holocaust).

Sprinkled with poignant scenes addressing cross-cultural issues (French/Arab as well as Arab/Jew), The Names of Love is an adroit comic counterpart to the dramatic films of Turkish/German director Fatih Akin (the brilliant Head-On, 2004). Forestier is astonishingly delightful in a role that in lesser hands could easily have sunk the film. Strikingly in charge of her unique situation, Baya’s moments of vulnerability stand out in convincing stark contrast. Director Michel Leclerc channels Woody Allen, right down to Arthur having onscreen discussion with his teenage self whenever the going gets testy. The film’s a hoot, yet not without pensive punch.

7.5 faux pas out of 10