Name: Price of Parenting
Genre: Comedy
Released: 2021-12-15T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Josiane Balasko, Didier Bourdon, Marilou Berry, Cédric Ben Abdallah, Laurent Stocker

The opening scene of Price of Parenting is a masterclass in comedic timing: Josiane Balasko as Chantal Blanc, her face pressed against the window like a lovesick teenager, watching her daughter drive away for the last time. It’s a pitch-perfect blend of pathos and absurdity, setting the tone for Alexandra Leclère’s 2021 comedy about the desperate lengths parents will go to feel needed.

Leclère’s film is a sharp, if uneven, exploration of empty nest syndrome, anchored by Balasko’s magnetic performance. Her Chantal Blanc is a woman unraveling at the seams, her desperation palpable as she clings to the fading presence of her children. The scheme she and her husband Christian (Didier Bourdon) cook up—faking a lottery win to lure their kids back into their lives—is both ridiculous and heartbreakingly relatable. Balasko’s ability to pivot from manic energy to quiet vulnerability is the film’s standout element, grounding even its most farcical moments.

The ensemble cast brings a lively energy to the chaos that ensues. Marilou Berry as Sandrine Blanc, the daughter caught in the middle of her parents’ antics, delivers a nuanced performance that balances exasperation and affection. Cédric Ben Abdallah as Stéphane Blanc, the son struggling with his own adulting failures, adds a layer of humor and heart to the mix. Laurent Stocker’s Édouard de Castignac, the slick lawyer who sees an opportunity in the Blancs’ charade, is a standout in the supporting cast, his smarmy charm adding a delightful layer of tension.

However, the film stumbles when it tries to juggle too many subplots. The introduction of Valérie (Joséphine de Meaux) and Madame Clutaine (Lise Lamétrie), while intended to add depth to Chantal’s world, often feels tacked on. These characters, though well-acted, don’t integrate seamlessly into the central narrative, leading to a few scenes that drag rather than delight.

Leclère’s direction is solid but lacks the boldness needed to elevate Price of Parenting above standard comedic fare. The pacing is uneven, with some jokes landing like thunderclaps and others fizzling out before they can make an impact. The film’s climax, while emotionally satisfying, feels rushed, as if Leclère couldn’t decide whether to end on a laugh or a tear.

The cinematography is functional but unremarkable, relying heavily on close-ups to capture the emotional beats of the characters. The sound design, however, deserves mention for its subtle use of silence in key moments, amplifying the sense of loneliness that permeates the film.

What ultimately saves Price of Parenting is its heart. Leclère and her cast manage to make you care deeply about these flawed, desperate parents and their equally flawed children. The film’s central question—how far would you go to feel needed?—is a poignant one, even if the answers sometimes feel contrived.

The film’s humor is rooted in its authenticity. The Blancs’ scheme is absurd, but it’s also grounded in a very real fear of becoming obsolete. This duality makes the comedy resonate on a deeper level, appealing to anyone who has ever felt the sting of being forgotten or the ache of growing apart from those they love.

Comparisons to other comedies about family dynamics are inevitable. Price of Parenting shares DNA with films like Little Miss Sunshine and The Squid and the Whale, but it carves out its own niche by focusing specifically on the empty nest syndrome. While those films explore the chaos of togetherness, Leclère’s film delves into the quiet desperation of separation.

The target audience for Price of Parenting is clear: parents navigating the complexities of raising adult children and the empty nesters who have already been through it. The film offers a cathartic laugh for those who have ever felt the pang of their child’s departure or the worry that they’ve become irrelevant in their lives.

Despite its flaws, Price of Parenting is a comedy that stumbles but never falls flat. It’s a film that will make you laugh, cry, and maybe even pick up the phone to call your own parents. Leclère’s direction, while not groundbreaking, is serviceable, and the performances are consistently strong.

In the end, Price of Parenting is a comedy that stumbles but never falls flat. It’s a film that will make you laugh, cry, and maybe even pick up the phone to call your own parents.