Things happen in Alain ResnaisPrivate Fears in Public Places, much as they do in life. There is a breakup, a brief encounter, an awkward rejection. There are hot tears and heavy sighs. But because this is an Alain Resnais film, things happen with elegant camera moves and syncopated editing, and they happen to characters in near-geometric alignment: six heavenly bodies as seen through a mighty telescope.

The six include the quarrelsome lovers, Nicole and Dan (Laura Morante and Lambert Wilson); the real estate broker, Thierry (Andr Dussollier), whos trying to find them a new apartment in the tough Parisian market; and the sad-sack bartender, Lionel (Pierre Arditi), who faithfully tops off Dans drinks. Thierry has an assistant, Charlotte (Sabine Azma), with whom he appears infatuated, and a much-younger sister, Galle (Isabelle Carr), who sits in cafes with a red flower pinned to her lapel, waiting for the next SWM to pull up a chair. For her part, Charlotte spends evenings caring for Lionels ailing, verbally abusive, unnamed father. Here, death bangs at the door as noisily as desire.

Its all rather complicated, kind of like life, though mostly like a stage play. Private Fears in Public Places was written by Jean-Michel Ribes and is based on the play of the same title by Alan Ayckbourn, who wrote a cycle of plays that Mr. Resnais turned into the 1993 films Smoking and No Smoking. Once again there are various characters in various formations, conspicuously artificial sets and a suffusion of feeling, though this time the sentiment feels heavy rather than playful. Everyone except Galle, who looks about 35, seems firmly in middle age or on its far side. (Mr. Resnaiss tendency to soften the focus whenever he films his older actresses in close-up only underscores the obvious and not with the kindness he perhaps intends.)

There is no plot to speak of, just scenes organized around emotional encounters and rituals. There are appointments, misunderstandings and romantic lulls, along with some wince-worthy bump-and-grind videos. The lovers quarrel, the broker shows his apartments and the bartender whips up drinks and advice. There are tears, yes, but no hysterics. The mood is polite, discreet, hushed, resolutely adult, even when the characters fall down drunk. Mr. Resnaiss narrative techniques are similarly refined. The edits are as smooth as the fluid camerawork, and many scenes connect through dissolves overlaid with the image of the ceaselessly falling snow. It doesnt snow often in Paris, but it snows throughout Private Fears in Public Places, adding to the overall air of gentle, twinkling unreality.

At several points in the film Mr. Resnais places the camera directly above his sets and points down, so we (and he) can watch the actors move about as if we were perched on a catwalk. As with the manufactured sets and all the overtly staged exits and entrances, this elevated point of view evokes the theater while remaining steadfastly cinematic. Seen from above, these stagy rooms also look like a warren, an image that brings to mind Mr. Resnaiss Mon Oncle Amrique (1980). In that film characters sprout the heads of rats, twitchy whiskers and all, and one fleetingly transforms into an actual rat running in a mazelike home, a crude metamorphosis that betrays a cynical, ungenerous view of the human condition.

Private Fears in Public Place hasnt a trace of cynicism. Its characters are not lab rats or types; they are people, somewhat blurred around the edges but nonetheless alive. They work and frolic, laugh and weep, alone and with others. All are playing self-conscious roles son, colleague, sibling and lover that at once define and restrict them. Despite the obvious personal and social perks, the private love and the public profile, playing the same role for too long can, the film suggests, take a toll. That much at least seems true from the creased, crumpled face of Lionel, who for too many years has performed the part of the dutiful son, faithfully caring for the invalid father who has become as much his warden as his ward.

In the early 1960s Mr. Resnaiss Last Year at Marienba inspired head-scratching among critics and audiences, attracting the kind of attention in the press now usually reserved for celebrity scandals and box-office receipts. These days, difficult films it seems important to add that difficult is not a pejorative rarely elicit anything but yawns and condescension. Private Fears in Public Places is far from difficult and that, it is also worth noting, is not a criticism. The film is accessible, pleasant, dreamy, a touch goofy and melancholic. Its modernist gestures are little more than stylistic tics, but there is an image of snow falling on two clasped hands that is almost rapturous. The role of the artist remains, for Mr. Resnais, the role of a lifetime.

Directed by Alain Resnais; written (in French, with English subtitles) by Jean-Michel Ribes, based on the play by Alan Ayckbourn; director of photography, Eric Gautier; edited by Herv de Luze; music by Mark Snow; production designers, Jacques Saulnier, Jean-Michel Ducourty and Solange Zeitoun; produced by Bruno Psery; released by IFC First Take. Running time: 120 minutes.

WITH: Sabine Azma (Charlotte), Isabelle Carr (Galle), Laura Morante (Nicole), Pierre Arditi (Lionel), Andr Dussollier (Thierry), Claude Rich (Arthur) and Lambert Wilson (Dan).

Paris Believes in Tears (and Love and Real Estate)