The Story of My Favorite Season
My Favorite Season opens with a quiet upheaval. Berthe, an elderly woman, can no longer live alone, so she moves in with her daughter Emilie—a pragmatic, middle-aged woman navigating her own life. But there's a complication lurking beneath the surface: Emilie and her brother Antoine haven't spoken in three years. Something fractured between them, and neither has bothered to repair it. When Emilie extends an invitation for Christmas, she's not just asking her brother to visit. She's asking him to come home. What unfolds isn't a heartwarming family reunion, but something far messier and more human—a slow excavation of memory, resentment, and the strange, knotted love that binds siblings together even when they've convinced themselves they're strangers.
The film doesn't announce its stakes with dramatic fanfare. Instead, it lets them accumulate quietly, the way tension does in a house where people are learning how to be around each other again. Berthe's presence becomes a mirror, reflecting back everything Emilie and Antoine have avoided saying for years. The holidays aren't a backdrop here—they're a pressure cooker.
Behind the Making of My Favorite Season
My Favorite Season arrived in 1993 as a collaboration between director André Téchiné and co-writer Pascal Bonitzer, both working at the height of their creative powers. Téchiné, already established as one of France's most perceptive filmmakers, brought his characteristic restraint and psychological depth to the material. The film stars Catherine Deneuve as Emilie—a casting choice that feels almost inevitable in retrospect, given Deneuve's ability to convey emotion through stillness and careful reserve. Daniel Auteuil plays Antoine with a kind of wounded defensiveness, and Marthe Villalonga brings a haunting fragility to Berthe, the mother whose needs inadvertently become the catalyst for everything.
The production, handled by TF1 Films Production and Les Films Alain Sarde, was a French affair through and through, and it showed in the film's sensibility. At 127 minutes, it never feels bloated—every scene earns its place. The film went on to win Best Foreign Language Film at the 1996 Boston Society of Film Critics Awards, a recognition that validated what careful viewers already knew: this was a work of genuine artistry, not a formulaic family drama. Though it didn't set the box office on fire, the film found its audience among those who appreciate cinema that trusts viewers to sit with discomfort. On IMDb, it holds a 6.179 rating—respectable for a film that refuses easy emotional payoffs and doesn't try to please everyone.
What Makes My Favorite Season Stand Out
Here's the thing about My Favorite Season that most family dramas get wrong: it doesn't pretend that love automatically heals everything. Deneuve's performance is a masterclass in controlled emotion. Watch her face when Antoine first arrives—there's relief, yes, but also wariness, a kind of braced anticipation for disappointment. She doesn't play Emilie as someone waiting to forgive. She plays her as someone who's built a life around the absence of her brother, and now has to figure out what to do when that absence becomes presence again.
Auteuil, for his part, carries the weight of the unspoken apology. He's not a villain. He's not even clearly in the wrong. That's what's so brilliant about Téchiné's approach—he refuses to assign blame. The rift between these two adults is the kind that happens in real families: less about a single betrayal than about accumulated small failures to understand each other, to reach across the distance when it first opened up. What's striking is how the film treats their mother's declining health not as a plot device but as a genuine urgency that forces them to confront what they've lost in their estrangement.
The cinematography and pacing create a mood of quiet dread. There are no dramatic confrontations, no screaming matches—just the slow, painful recognition that some damage doesn't repair neatly, that family can be both the source of our deepest wounds and the only people who can touch those wounds at all. It's melancholic without being self-pitying, and that balance is rare.
Where to Stream My Favorite Season Online
My Favorite Season is available on major OTT services, making it accessible to viewers looking to discover French cinema or revisit this quietly powerful family drama. If you're not sure where it's currently streaming, the Where to Watch widget at the top of this page will show you all available platforms in your region. Movie OTT tracks streaming availability across services, so you can find exactly where to watch without the guesswork. The film's length—just over two hours—makes it a perfect evening watch, the kind you'll want to sit with undistracted.
Frequently asked questions
Q: Who directed My Favorite Season?
André Téchiné directed the film, co-writing it with Pascal Bonitzer. Téchiné is known for his psychologically nuanced approach to character and family dynamics, and that sensibility shapes every frame of My Favorite Season.
Q: What awards did My Favorite Season win?
The film won Best Foreign Language Film at the 1996 Boston Society of Film Critics Awards, a significant recognition for a film that prioritizes emotional subtlety over conventional drama.
Q: Is My Favorite Season based on a true story?
No, it's an original screenplay by Téchiné and Bonitzer. Though the family dynamics feel deeply authentic, the story was created specifically for the screen.
Q: How long is My Favorite Season?
The film runs 127 minutes, which allows Téchiné to develop his characters and their relationships at a deliberate, unhurried pace without feeling indulgent.
Q: Where can I watch My Favorite Season?
My Favorite Season is available on major OTT platforms. Check the streaming widget on this page to see which services have it available in your region, or browse Movie OTT for current availability.
Final Thoughts on My Favorite Season
My Favorite Season isn't the kind of film that leaves you feeling uplifted. It leaves you thinking about the people you've drifted from, the words you didn't say when you had the chance, the way family relationships can become frozen in time if we're not careful. That's not a flaw—that's the whole point. If you're drawn to cinema that trusts you to find meaning in silences and glances, that believes the most important conversations are the ones that happen without words, this 1993 French drama deserves your time. It's a film that rewards patience and attention, and it'll stay with you long after the credits roll.