A film worth watching for Huppert's performance alone

Over the past several days I have watched, in stretches, Catherine Breillat's film Abuse of Weakness (2013), and it's definitely worth watching if for no other reason than seeing a fabulous and strange performance by Isabel Huppert, who portrays a film director (modeled on Breillat I believe) who suffers a serious stroke at the age of about 50 and struggles to continue her work. In this film - I don't know if it's true of CB's life - the director/Huppert sees a "reformed" criminal on a TV talk show touting his memoir of crime and prison life and she decides he should star in her next movie (he has no acting experience and is intellectually the opposite of Huppert). Over time he weasels his way into her life and begins borrowing money from her, eventually getting her to write him checks for many thousands of Euros. He eventually leaves his wife (and daughter) and moves in w/ Huppert, sleeping on a cot in her post Parisian house undergoing major and expensive renovations; though he suggests is a few times, they never have sex - and in fact he probably doesn't really want to - she's too valuable to him as his personal ATM. The movie ends with her in financial ruin and sitting around a conference table w/ some lawyers and her adult children, who cannot understand what compelled her to give this crook so much money. She can't really explain to them - and neither can we - although I had a sense that her bizarre behavior may have followed from some kind of undiagnosed brain injury that happened during her stroke. In this case, it's to Breillat's credit that she doesn't neatly tie everything together at the end; Huppert seems indifferent to her financial loss (she says giving up her house is "not on option," however), and we sense that what she really wanted to assert was her independence - she's constantly rebuffing the unsolicited offers of help during her illness, and her struggle just to walk, eat, and write is poignant and painful throughout the film - even her freedom to act the fool. Her independence was her own undoing, and led no doubt to greater dependence on others.