I lost interest long before the French film producer shot himself and had to fight off sleep before reaching the end.
One reviewer had this to say about "The Father of my Children";
"Authentic in its depiction of both the filmic and domestic milieux, this is delicate, incisive, touching and trenchant"
Any film that is praised for its depiction of any "milieux" is to be avoided.
If a reviewer is reduced to simple pretension instead of raw emotion and instant reaction it is a clear sign that he, or she, is trying to hard to convince themselves that the film must have some merit.
Far from being "delicate, incisive, touching and trenchant" this was dull, dull, dull and duller.