Reviews provided by RottenTomatoes
Husband and wife, upper-class couple Jean and Gabrielle Hervey, are played, to perfection, by two of France's premier film actors: Pascal Greggory and Isabelle Huppert.
Richard M. Porton,
This highly stylized portrait of a loveless marriage at the beginning of the 20th century merges a claustrophobic theatricality with dazzlingly cinematic wide-screen compositions (the sumptuous cinematography is by Eric Gautier).
San Francisco Chronicle:
Greggory is up to that journey, revealing the character in his various colors, and Huppert is at her usual best, subtle, emotionally full, focused and honest.
Eleanor Ringel Gillespie,
Explosive and intense, melancholy yet sometimes mordantly funny, Gabrielle is the sort of picture that takes no prisoners. And offers no definitive answers.
One of the film's savage ironies is that his wife's inevitable betrayal strikes less at his heart than at his all-consuming sense of order.
Scenes from a Marriage was twice as devastating with none of the stylistic folderol.
Los Angeles Times:
Isabelle Huppert and Pascal Greggory are superb as a couple of immense wealth and social prestige in the Belle Epoque Paris of 1912 -- but then everything about this film is superb.
Chereau matches Conrad's insistence on psychological accuracy, burrowing through the protective layers of self-delusion that hold so many human relationships together.
Greggory anchors Gabrielle in manly bewilderment and rage, while Huppert claws the title character's way to self-awareness.
Detroit Free Press:
Although it is possible that French actress Isabelle Huppert makes the occasional false move, she does not make them in front of a camera.
As a couple, Jean and Gabrielle are a corseted waking nightmare. As co-stars, [Isabelle] Huppert and [Pascal] Greggory make a dream match.
Spending 90 stuffy minutes with the bitter husband and wife is tough, despite the quality of the performances.
New York Daily News:
Chereau keeps us locked inside their suffocatingly unhappy home, making for an intensely theatrical chamber piece.
This is a careful and cinematic adaptation that rings with painful truth.
At once robust and ethereal, this is an existential ghost story, with fresh blood pulsing through its veins.
For the most part, [Chereau] lets Huppert and Greggory provide the emotional impact. They respond accordingly, imbuing their mutual suffering with an exacting and moving finesse.