Again, the figure of the immigrant. In this film, the immigrant begins in Africa, in Senegal, in Dakar—a poor city with too much sun, dirty buildings, and dusty roads. Where does this African want to go? To Paris, a city with lots of clean buildings and paved boulevards. Paris is built; Dakar is underbuilt. Paris is a functional machine; Dakar is a dysfunctional machine. The African has enjoyed the sexual pleasures of a beautiful tourist, and he has also received a postcard from Paris—it looks like his African friend/brother is enjoying life in the City of Lights. He has no choice. He has to leave Dakar, cross the desert on a rickety truck, and then face the final challenge: the Strait of Gibraltar. "See over there," the smuggler tells him. "When the fog rises, you can see Europe."

Though the immigrant has a minor role in Paris—he appears on the screen only four or five times—his story brings meaning, substance, and even the condition of cinema to the other characters. But before I explain what it is about the immigrant's situation that gives him the power of cinema—and also share with you a small part of a conversation I had with the star of the film, Juliette Binoche—I must make a confession: Paris is not a great work of art. It is very basic, and its pleasures are more touristic than voyeuristic. You will not learn anything new about Paris from Paris; you will, however, be entertained and leave the theater with that amused mood you get from the films in the middle period of Woody Allen's career.

Back to the immigrant. He is about to cross the Strait of Gibraltar. Europe is in the fog. He pulls out a cell phone (this is a 21st-century immigrant) and calls the beautiful Parisian he fucked in Dakar. She is a model and is about to mount a catwalk. Cameras flash around her. This is the heart of the fashion industry. The immigrant tells her that he is on his way to her. He will see her in Paris. But first he has to cross the dangerous and stormy waters of the Strait of Gibraltar. This is the power of the immigrant: He always has a goal. In the French movie Welcome, for example, the immigrant, a young Iraqi teenager, has a goal: to swim across the English Channel and reach the shores of the island where the love of his life and his future lie. Any screenwriter will tell you again and again that a great film needs a subject with one goal. This goes for Hollywood and art-house films. Out of all of the possible situations of the world of our moment, the globalizing world, none has a clearer goal than the situation of an immigrant. Their desire is not here, but always over there, across the border.

"When the idea of the film was explained to me, the director [Cédric Klapisch] asked what role would I like to play. And, you know, I could make up this role," said Juliette Binoche over the phone. She was in New York City to promote her new book about the directors she has worked with. "I decided I wanted to play a social worker, a person who worked with people. I also wanted to be a mother with five kids from five different men, and the men be of different colors, so the kids have different colors, like the city of Paris. The director liked the idea, but he only gave me two kids and not five." Binoche's instincts were right: It's best, or more meaningful, to play Paris not as a whore but as a mother whose bed has been open to many men from many different places. But as strong as her instincts are, they are not enough to drive the narrative motor of a film. A mother of Paris has no real goals.

Nor do the other characters in this film: Pierre (Romain Duris) is a cabaret dancer suffering from a fatal illness; Roland Verneuil (Fabrice Luchini) is professor of history whose wolfish lust is focused on one of his students, Laetitia (the slender Mélanie Laurent); Philippe Verneuil (François Cluzet) is an architect in the middle of a big project; and, finally, Jean (Albert Dupontel) is a stallholder at a market. But put these characters in the context (or the aura) of the immigrant's goal and suddenly they come to mean the city itself: Pierre? He is all about the excellent health-care system Parisians enjoy. Roland? He is all about the excellent education system Parisians have access to. Philippe? He is all about the abundant housing the city has for its inhabitants. Jean? He is all about the menial jobs the city has for those who need to work. To get to these things, the immigrant must cross the stormy waters of the Strait of Gibraltar.