The odds are against any film maker who tries to make a movie in a foreign country. The dialogue between the american and french characters is painful to watch. The story has potential and Mr. Polanski does a great job of not making the plot too obvious... There even are quite a few suspenseful scenes. It is a watchable movie and Emmanuelle is stunning throughout. It is a decent film to study. All this being said, I found that the movie lacked something. The soundtrack was quite poor in my opinion. The bad guys were not showcased enough...It's hard to put a finger on what really went wrong but it is missing a little something. The language barrier makes it even harder to follow the whole story, so it seems the story was dumbed down thus making it a bit boring. But again, Emmanuelle saves the movie. Enjoy

Dr. Richard Walker (Harrison Ford) is in Paris with his wife Sondra (Betty Buckley) for a medical conference. The last time was their honeymoon 20 years ago. They check into the hotel and discover that they've got the wrong bag. While he's in the shower, his wife gets a call and disappears. It's a struggle to be taken seriously even after he finds her broken bracelet. It seems like she's run off with some guy. He finds a phone number written on a matchbook in the incorrect suitcase. He starts investigating on his own and encounters Michelle (Emmanuelle Seigner).This is a great Roman Polanski film. It has the Hitchcockian feel. It's an everyman played very well by Ford who is caught up in a world that he has no concept of. The start is Kafkaesque. It's filled with paranoia. Then Emmanuelle Seigner shows up. She's a classic femme fatale. The movie is a great thriller.

This early (1988) Harrison Ford movie does well in some instances and not so well in others. An American Dr. in Paris for a "conference" (well we know all about boondoggles like this) takes a sharp turn when his wife disappears.Not believing that she has a "friend" in Paris - Harrison goes stumbling about from one (likely not connected) clue to another. And this is the charm of this film. We are used to seeing Harrison as the inimitable Jack Ryan in the Tom Clancy film adaptations of his books or as Indiana Jones (Super adventurer) who always has his head on straight, always acting decisively, or as the President in Air Force One. Ford's Dr. Richard Walker gropes around blindly - not knowing which way to turn - not getting any help from the Americans at the embassy - not getting any help from the French police (how surprising) - but stumbling onto one clue after another until he makes some progress in finding his wife. KInd of reminded me of Obama's first term.And on the way a lot of bad things happen to him - even getting maced by his "French girlfriend" Michelle.Some of the best parts in the film include his retort to the American Embassy guy who intimated that Dr. Walker's wife probably was off with a "friend" - Walker says - "You are talking about my wife - you must be thinking of yours!" as well as his bumbling search for his wife.The WORST part was when he and Michelle were in the "square, boring" nightclub (Michelle's evaluation) dancing while expecting to make contact with the "bad guys" who have kidnapped his wife - THE MUSIC was disgusting (Michelle complains and it looks as if she goes to see someone about it, but the music continues - so I guess she failed to get the French equivalent of Mariah Carey (UUGGHHH) off and someone better (Blondie or Shirley Manson) on the sound system.) And then the dancing she did with Harrison was absolutely bizarre. Reminded my of Calvaire - the most bizarre male on male dancing scene of all time (French Hill billies yet!!) The music of the dance scene reminded my of the music being played at Napoleon Dynamite's prom. Those dancing around them were also so lame and gaggy that I had trouble watching (Arabs doing the Bossa Nova - for goodness sake!!!)And one other bad part, when Dr. Walker and Michelle finally hook back up with his wife (after some very clumsy, awkward gun work ) and a death that looked like me falling off the ladder in my back yard, Mrs. Walker shows no signs of jealousy - but just concern for Michelle, Dr. walker's companion.EVERYONE thinks he is banging her, except his wife.Now that I have written the review - I have lowered my vote. All in all, a pretty poor excuse of a movie, although I have to admit, I'm glad I saw it again. DonB

When the Walker's first went to Paris as a couple very much in love and co-figuring on that same wavelength, it was in June of 1968 - a whole month or so after the May problems of that same year which beguiled said world renowned city and country and thus saw them avoid all the helter skelter nonsense and nuisance which would have no doubt blighted their stay there. That was then, this is now; and where a honeymoon was once the purpose for travelling to the French Capital wherein they managed to sidestep all the ugliness, this fresh visit in the latter half of the 80's will see them put through a wringer in which confronting incident; issue and a whole heap of bother must unfold. The film, one of those which can be 'pitched' in a sentence and is relatively uncomplicated to follow, might have gone one of two ways and it is to its director's great credit that Frantic is the devilish; involving and erstwhile drama that goes down the correct route that it does.There is a gnawing sensation at the back of some part of me saying that had something with the credentials which Frantic possesses been made in today's climate, it would not carry with it both the subtleties and nuances the director here applies to what is essentially a generic premise. The director is a certain Roman Polanski, a man whose films have often revolved around lone protagonists caught in webs of paranoia and disbelief as they uncover sordid truths not too far from their own abodes. We recall Jack Nicholson and Mia Farrow's characters in Chinatown and Rosemary's Baby, respectively, undergoing Hellish investigative procedures in trying to deduce what the bigger picture is as the terrible truth looms large and the protagonists just try to get on with life. For a more recent example, see 2010's The Ghost. Frantic slots nicely into the Polanski canon of films feeding off this overall framework of deception; dishonesty and a fair amount of seediness at play in what was initially a fairly pleasant set up.The film begins with a windshield set shot of cars on a motorway speeding past and away from us as the gloomy skyline of Paris very gradually approaches us such is the direction we're headed and the speed we're travelling at. That sense of an all-encompassing locale getting ever-closer twinned with things charging by and escaping us prominent. Therein what transpires to be a taxi sit the Walker's, Harrison Ford's Richard and Betty Buckley's Sondra; an American couple a long way from home in that they're San Franciscans on a holiday to the place they, as established, once spent their honeymoon decades ago. Her head on his shoulder, inferring close ties, and the establishment that they've been driving since dawn in tow, the taxi suffers a puncture and Richard is plunged into a troublesome situation requiring good communicative skills in French as well as a fair degree of calm as this out of the ordinary happening occurs. It is established Sondra is the French speaker amongst the pair of them, and Richard appears vulnerable without her expertise when attempting to communicate himself. Things on this basic level in this unfortunate situation don't go as swimmingly as they might have done, making for uncomfortable viewing later on when both of these things will be more greatly required once certain stakes are raised.Arriving at the more centralised Parisian hotel, the Walkers are tired and the arrival is a confusing; busy procession of dialogue Richard doesn't understand and phone-calls involving those back home which are ultimately unnecessary ingredients for worry. We note the iconographic Eiffel Tower peeking out from behind certain buildings from the ground level looking upwards as their car pulls up – the film eventually breaking out into a bit of a squalor-set trawl through streets; avenues and the urban undergrowth Richard discovers Paris exudes when Sondra disappears from the suite whilst Richard showers and she is nowhere that the relatively bemused hotel staff can see.Thus begins the body of the film in its depiction of Ford's descent out and into the Parisian jungle to find her, something which begins with the biggest question more broadly linked to "how" she was taken, although mutates once we're past that stage into something much more interesting to do with "why" she was. Thrown into the mix is Emmanuelle Seigner's Parisian local Michelle, a hearty and sprightly young woman who is often mixed up with the wrong people but is here dragged deeper into a mire of equally sordid business by Richard when he uncovers her whereabouts and figures she'll have a strong say in whether Sondra is at all found. As a combination, Michelle needs Richard more-so for the brief financial support he offers and he for her based on the fact she is the lone lead – they do not necessarily see eye to eye in as much Seigner's character is slender with he broader and gradually more hard bodied; her dress sense radiant and his limited to greyed coats and such. The film bounces each of them off one another as foils nicely, but its crowning glory is the film's resisting to fall into the trap of living up to its title like it would do nowadays; "Frantic" being its name but calm; collected and slow-burning its nature. True, there is international espionage and shoot outs but these things feel undercut; understated, arriving when they have to and never doing enough to drag the piece away from grounded foundations. At a time when EuropaCorp are producing what they're producing, it's pleasant to uncover films such as Frantic which are well made; well acted and unravelled in a tense, adult fashion.