The Witnesses

The Witnesses may be schematic, but it lets each character live and breathe. The film captures a time and place that seems very distant now.

Techine's unwillingness to soften his characters reflects a rare honesty about human nature that's rarely seen in movies, particularly movies about fatal illnesses, and his film is an engaging and particularly French character study.

The Witnesses forms a magnificent trilogy with "Son Frère" (2003), Patrice Chéreau's devastating account of fraternal devotion in the face of death, and the amazing, acerbic "Before I Forget," a brooding and bitter tale of survival coming soon from Jacques Nolot, here lending an iconic cameo as the proprietor of Manu's hooker hotel.

They should hand out a score card with every ticket to The Witnesses to help viewers keep track of who's sleeping with whom.

A timely reminder of AIDS; we've largely forgotten we're in the midst of a crisis. But the movie isn't all cautionary, or at all preachy.

Excitingly convoluted.

A kind of film opera without music.