Déjà Vu Review

The deeply personal films of Henry Jaglom have in the past ranged from the witty and winning to the — frankly — desperately up their own arse. As the maker of films such as Sitting Ducks, Always, Can She Bake A Cherry Pie? and Last Summer In The Hamptons, Jaglom has documented his life and his thoughts and theories on life, in often brutally honest fashion, winning many fans along the way, but also alienating many viewers treading the same path. It's probably a bit too late in the day for Déjà Vu to become a breakthrough movie, but in its touching exploration of the nature of love and all its fated ramifications, it is by far his most accessible, most accomplished and most affecting work. Dana (Hoyt) meets a woman who gives her a brooch. Her attempts to return it lead her first to Paris, then to the white cliffs of Dover, where she happens upon Sean (Dillane). Given the film's decidedly dream-like atmosphere, he is clearly the man of her dreams. But how much can we trust our dreams? Is fate merely a way to justify coincidence? Will these two get it on despite the fact they are already involved with Michael Brandon and Glynis Barber (a.k.a. Dempsey and Makepeace)? Having co-authored the piece with his current partner and leading lady Hoyt, Jaglom leisurely examines such notions. In that sense, Deja Vu is very much a typical Jaglom film — one with middle class people sitting talking about their lives. But there's magic here as well, and resonance both in the casting and the subject matter. Just watching Redgrave play a lengthy scene against her real life mother would be enough, but Jaglom delivers more than that.