If you believe that money can’t buy you happiness, this movie might just change your mind.

Marguerite is a delightful woman (played by the equally delightful Catherine Frot) and passionate opera lover. Being the wife of a wealthy industrialist in 1920s France means she can indulge her passion by holding charity soirées at her house, at which she sings. The problem is, she can’t. Sing, that is. Not that it matters to her, as she’s into total self-delusion. Her guests grimly bear it because it’s for a good cause, out of good manners, and (not the least) because of the lavish food and drink she provides at her soirées.

Real problems begin when she decides to perform in public. Her husband (Marcon) hires a singing coach (Fau) who he hopes will tell her the truth: he doesn’t, but to say why would be a plot spoiler. There is a concert, and some dramatic events follow. If you are a sensitive soul you may cringe in embarrassment when Marguerite sings. If so, I’d advise seeing the same story in the UK version – Florence Foster Jenkins, screening the next night – which I understand is somewhat funnier. That said, Marguerite is a delightful film, with good cameos, some quirky, funny elements and Marguerite’s infectious delight of life. My wife loved it.