Cycling with Molière

Serge Tanneur stands at the zenith of his career, then walks away from film and television to live in near hermetic isolation along France's wild Atlantic coast. Three years later a familiar face shows up on the island: Gauthier Valence, a charismatic TV star who wants Serge for his directing debut. The project is a bold riff on Molière's The Misanthrope, presented as a rehearsal based approach rather than a straight adaptation. Serge agrees to test the water by staging the opening scene and to decide after five days whether the role fits his new, quieter life. What unfolds is a lively contest of pride and cleverness, punctuated by odd encounters, including a hotel maid who longs for a porn career and an Italian divorcée, as two generations of actors spar for control of the story.

Directed by Philippe Le Guay, Cycling with Molière pairs Fabrice Luchini with Lambert Wilson in a witty drama about fame, art, and the theater. The film blends intimate acting with a playful meta twist and a backdrop of coastal France.

Critics praised the brisk dialogue and the sharp juggling of ego and craft. The film asks what it means to perform with integrity when a performer is already a public figure and age reshapes ambition. It treats collaboration as a kind of communal performance, where misfires and improv yield a surprising honesty. The seaside island setting provides a calm stage for backstage chaos, letting character study coexist with light satire. Through its human humor and theatrical reflexivity, Cycling with Molière becomes a gentle meditation on art, memory, and the gamble of choosing a life in the theater over the screen.

Cultural impact comes from its affectionate nods to classic theater and the way it frames celebrity culture as a recurring theme rather than a punchline. Fans of Luchini and Wilson will recognize the film's inside jokes about rehearsal, timing, and the pressures of public performance, while casual viewers get a breezy comedy about choosing what to do next when opportunity knocks.