An involving look into the most private recesses of the female psyche. Marie (Coësens) is an ordinary set of statistics: she's 35, married for 12 years to François (Bompoil), with a two-year-old son. Her husband would like another child, but she's not sure and doesn't know why. Her job doesn't quite provide satisfaction, though she's a very practised door to door rep for an encyclopedia company. Still, her latest lead is somewhat bewildering, since Bill (Todd), a black American, hardly needs a set of books in French. It turns out he's house-sitting, By now Marie is fascinated by his imposing confidence, which somehow frees her to be herself when she's with him. Such liberation swiftly leads to his bedroom, and her marriage will never be the same. This doesn't push at cinema's sexual boundaries like Romance or Intimacy. It's an ostensibly lighter piece, but without the distraction of such explicitness, its very lucidity gives the viewer room to reflect. Does a marriage stifle our individual sexual selves? Is self-expression different from infidelity? It's a film of sincere, troubling transparency.