“Everything Went Fine” begins with a phone call to Emmanuèle (Sophie Marceau) from her sister (Géraldine Pailhas): Their father, André (André Dussollier), is in the hospital. What follows is a tale neither agonizing nor uplifting, but just to the downbeat side of clinical. André’s recovery, which unfolds over several months, is insufficiently speedy or restorative for the old man, who decides early on that he’d rather solicit Emmanuèle’s help in killing himself than to live in a debilitated state.
Problem is, what he’s asking her to do is illegal in France, with a potential penalty of five years in prison and a 75,000-euro fine for endangerment. So Emmanuèle seeks out the assistance of a kindly representative of a Swiss death-with-dignity organization (Hanna Schygulla) to arrange for a one-way trip by André to Bern, via ambulance. There, people are allowed to take their own lives, as long as the method of death is solely undertaken by the person wishing to die and not by the facilitator.
If the above sounds a little legalistic, there’s a certain air of the procedural to “Everything.” Much of the film is devoted to handling such issues as power of attorney and André’s will, as well as questions of where to be buried and the arrangements for the final kaddish ritual. Conversations are had with a lawyer, a notary and two police investigators. A video statement is taken, then taken again after the first is deemed inadequate as evidence that André is of sound mind. Feelings are sublimated, details are discussed only in euphemism. To the extent that Emmanuèle tries to talk André out of his last wish, it’s halfhearted.
Of greater interest are flashbacks and dreams that suggest a damaged relationship between father and daughter. Emmanuèle admits to having had feelings, as a child, that she wanted to kill her father. Marceau is never less than watchable. Unfortunately, her character’s psychic wounds are not fully explored.
But André will not be deterred, and anyway Emmanuèle loves him, or so she says. Why is not entirely clear. He seems like something of a jerk. There’s also a mysterious character, Gérard (Grégory Gadebois), who shows up hovering in the background (initially referred to only by a scatological nickname). His relationship to André — and how it involves André’s stony wife (a wasted Charlotte Rampling) — will be easily surmised by most viewers. But it becomes explicit only later, adding a note of much-needed intrigue and drama to the story.
En route to the Swiss border, André’s drivers pull over to a rest stop, after he blabs about his plans. (André can’t seem to keep his mouth shut, repeatedly jeopardizing the entire operation.) “Why do you want to die?” one of the drivers (Aymen Saïdi) asks in confusion. “Yeah,” says the other one (Toudo Cissokho), “life is beautiful.” To which André can only shrug, in the quintessentially French way a Parisian might respond to the question, “And how did you like your hamburger, sir?”
The film seems similarly noncommittal. It’s evenhanded to the point of indifference.
Unrated. At Landmark’s Bethesda Row Cinema. Contains coarse language and some brief disturbing images. In French with subtitles. 113 minutes.