The plot of Stéphane Brizé’s minor miracle of a movie couldn’t be simpler: Jean, a home-builder and devoted family man, begins to feel passionately toward Véronique, his young son’s teacher of the title. Yet what distinguishes Mademoiselle Chambon from other love-triangle movies is its extraordinary subtleties, and above all, its uniformly outstanding acting. Jean and Mlle Chambon are a study in contrasts: He is burly and rugged, having done manual labor his entire life; she is lithe with Modigliani-like features and comes from an intellectual Parisian family. But when she listens to Jean give a presentation to her students about what he does for a living, it’s clear his pride in his work touches something in her—much as her violin playing will trigger feelings in him. Very little is said between Jean and Véronique; their yearning for each other is conveyed mainly through silences and stolen glances. That the actors playing these two unforgettable characters were once married only heightens the profound sense of longing, anguish, and sadness that ultimately consume Jean and Véronique.