Exquisite

Have you ever found yourself in an art gallery looking at painting after painting and feeling deeply unsure about what you should say? Have you ever found yourself at a nice restaurant perusing the wine list, having no idea what to order or even what questions to ask? Perhaps you have found yourself at the theatre or the opera feeling that same, familiar awkwardness? Or somehow you have stumbled into a conversation about literature or classical music and already used up your quota of the word 'exquisite'? If you have answered 'yes' to these questions, then you have come to the right place. Many of us have found ourselves in such a position, asking ourselves if we are in the midst of a fear-ridden system, where everyone is afraid to call out the folly and pretentiousness of it all, where there is no system of evaluation unless you are deeply entrenched in the production of such things (and even then…). But who dares to do that and risk being considered a philistine?

"Oh, how exquisite!"

Fear not, as I am here to help. I may not be able to help with the above problems, but I happen to be quite expert in French cinema. The next time you go to an arty French film, you can glide about the cinema's lobby with enviable self-assurance, ditching the usual panic for an unusual panache. (It's pronounced PAN-ayk — don't let anyone tell you otherwise.) So, dust off your chicest little get-up, learn off this table and enjoy your newly found liberté (pronounced lie-BER-tie).

Add the number of points shown if the film has the following:

When the film is over, just tally up the score. The higher it is, the better the film should be in your estimation. Bonne chance, mes amis!