Isabelle Huppert plays Ann, a composer and pianist who, after witnessing her long-term boyfriend having an affair, decides she wants to reclaim her life. But first she has to sever herself from her old one.

The way the story plays out is simple. After witnessing her partner’s infidelity, Ann has a chance encounter with a childhood friend. Out of love for her, a love which is perhaps greater than Ann would like, he decides to help her destroy her old life. Ann then sets about quietly, systematically, dismantling her world before setting off on a journey across Europe which will eventually lead her to a secluded space where she can try and be herself again.

The complexities come through emotional nuances built cleverly into the fabric of the film by director Benot Jacquot. One of the most striking aspects of the construction is the way in which he fuses the disjointed modernist music favoured by Ann into her story, driving her frustrations forward with discordant intrusions and expressing her passions with sudden infusions of sound.

The editing of her experiences is similarly matched to her state of mind. We cut over swathes of time and space, leaving large ellipses, as we sweep across this massive journey from one life to another. It’s sometimes pretty disorientating, and can be immensely hard work filling in the gaps, but all of this works to create the right atmosphere for the expression of Ann’s own experiences.

One potential problem from such a style is that we could be left feeling a bit detached from the process; fortunately regular close-ups and close-quarter encounters with Ann and those she meets keep us well grounded in her headspace. This grounding tactic is further aided by the ever-impressive acting talents of Isabelle Huppert, whose ability to express so much in a single look never fails to amaze me.

The biggest problem that the film does suffer from is that all of this construction sometimes feels a little too well-orchestrated, and borders on the artificial. Likewise, the wide vistas and pained close-ups, when utilised in rapid succession, act more as visual cues to remind us of the emotion behind the story than as genuinely affecting moments.

But these problems are easily overlooked in appreciating a film that emotive, artful and beautiful to look at.