In Leave One Day

, Cécile (Juliette Armanet) is a celebrity chef, famed for her stints on Top Chef and her lobster bisque soufflé, but when she finds out she is pregnant just before news of her father’s heart attack reaches her, she is suddenly faced with two major crises. Instead of pulling a Carmy from The Bear and verbally abusing her staff as they prepare to open a restaurant, Cécile heads home to the French village where she was raised to take care of her father.

Leave One Day Is Full Of Catchy Tunes

Though They Won’t Make You Do Much More Than Tap Your Feet In Your Seat

The French are no stranger to musicals. Just last year, Emilia Pérez, from auteur Jacques Audiard, dominated discourse, for better and worse, but what really comes to mind are classics like The Umbrellas of Cherbourg or contemporary fare like Annette. Leave One Day won’t be a lightning rod of discourse like last year’s, nor is it destined to become a classic like Cherbourg.

Instead, it will be remembered as an entirely fine, if not familiar, take on the genre, one that inspires the kind of warm fuzziness that the best musicals do without leaving much in the wake of memorability. The first time the cast, which also includes Bastien Bouillon as Cécile’s former flame Raphaël and Tewfik Jallab as her current beau Sofiane, breaks out into song, it’s almost jarring.

The film breaks from a serious moment between lovers to a techno pop hit, one that would feel as at home on the radio as it does in Cécile’s kitchen. It’s a testament to the performances that they can sell these songs the way they do, infusing the electricity of the production into their pᴀssionate performances.

In her first film role, Armanet is wonderful as Cécile. You see how she could be a magnetic force on a reality compeтιтion like Top Chef, just as it’s easy to see why she is able to draw Raphaël back into her orbit despite his partner and child. In dance numbers at ice skating rinks, in kitchens, and other homey locations, Leave One Day makes life feel a little less regular, even when pain lingers in the background.

There’s Cécile’s parents and their struggling restaurant — one of the reasons she’s returned home. There’s the looming decision of what exactly to do about her pregnancy, which she keeps from Sofiane at first. There’s the fear of failure. What if, despite it at all, the restaurant Cécile is opening with Sofiane doesn’t work out?

By the time the final song rolls around, also тιтled “Leave One Day,” there is an aching sentimentality beneath the surface that doesn’t really linger. In some ways, I wanted it to. The beauty of a musical isn’t just in the songs themselves, but the feelings they leave us with as we exit the theater. Leave One Day opts for a cheerier disposition that undermines staying power beyond its infectious tunes.

It’s clear the film doesn’t take itself too seriously, to its detriment. Its opening credits use Comic Sans font and colorize to the beat of the music, as if they are lyrics on a karaoke machine. Some of the tougher conversations in the film — about the state of Cécile’s dad’s health or her hiding her pregnancy from Sofiane — don’t reach for despair, but rather understanding, even though they end up gliding over the tough stuff instead of settling in for impact.

It’s a fizzly beginning for Cannes considering the worry that has plagued the international film market in the days leading up to the festival. Donald Trump’s movie tariffs have been a looming threat (how real remains to be seen) and though many of the films that will screen are sure to reflect the state of politics around the world (as they always do), Leave One Day as an opening film feels almost designed to ease us in rather than shock us awake.

Leave One Day has its premiere at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival.