By Marty Mulrooney
It is not a very well kept secret that I am a huge fan of all things French cinema. My interest started on the somewhat lighter end of the scale with an early appreciation of Luc Besson (Leon, The Fifth Element), before blossoming in my later years into an active appreciation of directors such as Olivier Marchal (36 Quai des Orfèvres) and Guillaume Canet (Tell No One). Le père de mes enfants is my latest foray into this wonderful country’s cinematic output. Released over here in the UK as Father Of My Children, this is the film that rewrites the rulebook on how to deal with loss, tragedy and hope on the big screen.