THE STORY -Cécile’s relaxing summer with her father in the south of France is upended by the arrival of the enigmatic Anne.
THE CAST – Lily McInerny, Claes Bang, Nailia Harzoune, Aliocha Schneider & Chloë Sevigny
THE TEAM – Durga Chew-Bose (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 110 Minutes
If anything, Durga Chew-Bose should be commended alone for her decision to make her debut feature an adaptation of Françoise Sagan’s “Bonjour Tristesse.” It’s a sensually charged exploration of the lonely and unscrupulous nature that can reside within us all. One that, while elegantly captured by Otto Preminger’s 1958 film adaptation, still feels somewhat missing what made the novel resonate (and alienate) readers in the seventy-plus years since its release. While various adaptations have occurred since the novel’s release, there truly hasn’t been a take that fully captures its essence. Chew-Bose’s modernized interpretation comes close to tapping into the pulse of Sagan’s work but still leaves viewers feeling divided, especially since it does little to reimagine the material refreshingly.
Chew-Bose transports audiences to the French Riviera, where the young Cécile (played by Lily McInerny) spends her summer days soaking up the sun alongside the beach, engaging in her blossoming newfound romance with Cyril (played by Aliocha Schneider) and overall leisurely wasting her days away. What remains constant as time itself is Cécile’s particularly close relationship with her father, Raymond (played by Claes Bang), a handsome bachelor whose lifestyle is one tied down by cigarettes, decadent meals, and the various women who come in and out of his life. Yet Raymond’s dedication to his daughter remains as true as ever, or at least it does until Anne (played by Chloë Sevigny), a close friend of Raymond’s deceased wife, finds her way back into his life. Now, Cécile’s perceived attachment to her father and laissez-faire lifestyle finds itself possibly being upended. What’s interesting about most versions of “Bonjour Tristesse,” let alone Chew-Bose’s, is the understated tone and pacing. While that can certainly turn off many, for me, it feels as intentionally languorous as the days these characters lavish in. What does come off as static about this interpretation is that, despite the incredibly contemporary backdrop, it doesn’t feel as significant.
This is an adaptation that, while lacking a necessity of existence, still finds itself effective in most of what it is trying to accomplish. It’s a somewhat thoughtful interrogation into these characters’ desperate desires, whether physically or emotionally. This is bountifully aided by Chew-Bose’s visual eye, which instills a relaxed energy that is more than appropriate considering the lives these characters lead. Chew-Bose, whose previous works as a critic and author, certainly wears her cinematic inspirations on her sleeve with this project. That is in no way a negative thing, as what’s displayed here from Maximilian Pittner’s cinematography exudes a feeling captured by the works of favorites of Chew-Bose, such as Agnes Varda. At times, the same hypnotically radiant feeling that comes from Luca Guadagnino films such as “A Bigger Splash” also feels present. It’s ironic considering how that’s a reimagining of “La Piscine,” a film that most likely is also mentally registered by Chew-Bose as an influential piece of work.
What makes “Bonjour Tristesse” an appealing prospect to the performers who take part in it is its intrinsically internal work that goes into these clandestine characters, which could be so disengaging for audiences. There’s a surface of superficiality that is only a mask for what’s motivating each person in the film. Of all the performances, Chloë Sevigny is the most successful in grasping the wavelength Chew-Bose is trying to elicit from her actors. Anne’s frustratingly cold nature is only a front for the pensive insecurities that plague her and even the other women whose lives she interjects in. Sevigny effectively communicates this with her eyes, which speak volumes beneath the calculated cadence in which she expresses herself. Bang’s take on Raymond certainly strays away from the more playboy-esque nature of the character, especially that of David Niven’s performance in the original film. There certainly is an emphasis far more on the loneliness that is gestating within the character, which is only hammered in by the film’s finale. McInerny is solid as the film’s lead, but she doesn’t quite have as impactful of a presence as Jean Seberg, whose work in Preminger’s adaptation is spellbinding. McInerny dances around where Chew-Bose is guiding her, but she’s never able to reach a point where it all comes together.
It’s not that Chew-Bose made a film that’s in any way stodgy, but by the time it reaches its conclusion, it only comes off as slightly empty. Devoid of anything momentous, especially considering the more than concise filmmaking from Chew-Bose and the solid group of performances she can get out of her actors. There’s plenty of room where Chew-Bose can springboard from here, and the potential is more than there. One can hope that it leaves a far more lasting memory than the summer in the French Riviera, Cécile, and the others had.
