Cross My Heart

Truffaut or not Truffaut? Not, of course, but not for lack of trying. The comparisons between Fansten's film and any number of Truffaut pieces are inevitable, I think, but sometimes that's not such a bad thing. Cross My Heart follows the adventures of a young French boy, Martin, that occur in the wake of his mother's entirely unexpected demise. Terrified of seeing their schoolyard chum sent to an orphanage, Martin's friends band together to hide his mother's passing from the adults surrounding them. After burying the woman (in the gutted remains of an old grandfather-clock), the kids dutifully set about finding such essentials as food, clothing and money for the occasionally house-bound Martin. They arrange to tutor him in the school subjects he misses and, with an ever-increasing amount of effort, manage for the most part to keep the prying adults out of the picture. From the blustering neighbor next door (who turns out to have been having an affair with Martin's mother), to the school's headmaster (who anxiously awaits a meeting with the boy's mother regarding his increasing tardiness), this resourceful band of children is able to deflect incoming queries with seeming ease. But for how long? Fansten -- well-known in his native France as a director of numerous television films -- weaves a nearly spellbinding tale. The world of these children has been threatened, and in responding to that threat, they each begin to mature in ways one never would have suspected. Amidst the crumbling lie they've set up for their friend, the children find their grades improving, their parental relationships tested, and their very idea of friendship illuminated in a light no one ever saw coming. It's not Truffaut, certainly, but Fansten's large-screen debut is delightful in and of itself, all comparisons aside.