This magnificently surreal romantic comedy from French master Alain Resnais presents its characters’ frequent daydreams in an intoxicating color palette of yellows, reds, and blues. Resnais, a youthful 86 at the time of Wild Grass’s triumphant premiere at the Cannes Film Festival in 2009, follows the flights of fancy of Georges, a man in his mid-60s who has become obsessed with a woman whose wallet he found. His crush, Marguerite (Sabine Azéma, Resnais’s longtime companion and muse), is a dentist with a shock of frizzy red hair who has an all-consuming passion of her own: flying airplanes. Georges begins incessantly calling and writing Marguerite, much to the resigned displeasure of his much-younger wife, Suzanne. Is Georges simply looking for excitement in a life that has grown too staid, too comfortable? Is he panicked by the passage of time? Georges’s batty, hilarious interior monologues don’t necessarily provide any answers. But this bizarre man does remind us that we all crave adventure at some point in our lives—much in the same way that Resnais never lets us forget the transporting power of cinema.