Henri has been running a small café with his wife Rita for as long as anyone can remember. When Rita suddenly dies, their daughter proposes hiring a “white butterfly,” local parlance for the residents of a nearby home for the mentally disabled. The subsequent arrival of twenty-something Rosette sets the stage for an unlikely encounter between a young woman looking for love and a widower scarred by life. In this small town full of oddballs and their issues (familiar territory for director Moreau, whose characters are drawn with great sensitivity), Rosette is by no means the odd woman out — something Henri and his barfly cronies discover as, bit by bit, they begin to understand her. The budding romance that ensues is surprising for some, uncomfortable for others. Yet in this generous and
open-minded film, the anguish of being alone puts us all on the same level. Henri is also a magnificent tribute to the rallying and uplifting power of pop music, particularly 70s Italian classics, some of which take on a central role.