Tiramisu (Paula van der Oest, 2008): Netherlands

Reviewed by Linda Schad. Viewed at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival.

Take one theatrically triumphant, but aging Dutch diva, Anne (Anneke Bloke), who struggles unsuccessfully to keep her life from unraveling by wildly over-indulging in retail therapy and drunken parties in order to mask the fact that she is still deeply in love with her ex-husband.

Incorporate and fold in one extremely handsome theatrical director, Lex (Gijs Scholten van Aschat), Anne’s ex-husband and father of her only daughter, who openly admits that his ex-wife will always be his muse, but is currently engaged to a much younger woman, who ironically auditions for and wins Anne’s usual leading roles.

Roll out one quiet, long-suffering, twelve-year-old daughter, Marja (Sophia de Hoog), who is wise far beyond the combined acumen of both her parents.

Add and thoroughly stir one up-tight, buttoned-down accountant, Jacob (Jacob Derwig), whose mundane existence is turned upside down by his encounter with Anne’s wild but glamorous world.

Mix in cleaning lady and life-long confidante, Nettie (Olga Zuiderhoek), who in a drunken stupor, lovingly releases a whole host of cats out of the proverbial bag during Anne’s farewell party.

Include a large pinch of pride, several shakes of self-delusion, and a post-modern woman’s need for defiant independence, even in the face of impending destruction, and you have a bubbling pot of impending disaster at rolling boil.

Sprinkle liberally with a large collection of thespian friends who have no idea what is really going on, but are well-intentioned and supportive to the very end.

Uncork at least one fine whine of desperation, and helplessly watch this often humorous soufflé of calamity collapse around the main players, as Jacob the accountant struggles valiantly to keep his new client out of jail due to her over-indulgence and save her prized houseboat from going on the auction block.

As light, frothy and delicious as its culinary namesake, Tiramisu is also a deceptively deep and richly layered recipe for cinematic success: a finely-crafted character study of love, self-deluded pride, and independence, while it also examines the unexpected effects that happen when polar opposites encounter one another.

Beginning with the opening sequence, writer/director Paula van der Oest serves up this polarity by cross-cutting between the successful, but aging, theatrical diva Anne (Anneke Blok), taking her bows on stage to deafening applause, and the nerdy, buttoned-down accountant, Jacob (Jacob Derwig), sitting alone in his austere silent office, trying to make sense of his new client’s receipts, a collection of bills haphazardly stuffed into a Prada shoe box.

To drive home the differences between these two main characters still further, the director next shows us Jacob carefully folding his clothes onto the foot of his bed before climbing under the covers to engage in unimaginative, conventional sex with his wife, Marieke (Rifka Lodeizen), who is desperately trying to get pregnant. Later, we learn this young couple is barren on many levels.

As an introvert, Jacob is easily a stereotypical caricature of middle-class values: a quiet, “don’t rock the boat” conformist who is extremely careful with everything, including money. In contrast, Anne is an extrovert, who initially seems to have no boundaries when it comes to satisfying her hedonistic desires, and appears to be without a care in the world. However, we gradually learn that Anne is a tormented soul.

Soon, the dull, uptight Jacob is drawn into the glitz and glamour of Anne’s world. Neglecting his own career and his own wife, Jacob hatches a secret plan to save Anne from herself.

However, just in case we miss the film’s main underlying theme, writer/director Paula van der Oest (Zus & Zo) intercuts excerpts of a play Anna is performing on stage: an adaptation of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes From A Marriage.

Tiramisu is an entertaining retelling of contemporary star-crossed lovers who cannot live together, but love too deeply to stay completely out of each other’s lives. This hanging on to the past has had a detrimental effect upon Anne, who initially is unwilling to face the fact that life must go on.

Although some might view this film as a light and frothy “chick-flick;” nevertheless, it still has many deeper layers of meaning. In the cinematic world of Tiramisu, and sometimes within our own real world, opposites attract and magic happens.