 |
Chéri
Director Stephen Frears new film Chéri is one of the best of the year, and perhaps one of the finest cinematic portrayals of a female character. Set in France during Le Belle Époque, the film focuses on the professional courtesan Lea de Lonval (Michelle Pfeiffer) and her relationship with the much younger Chéri (Rupert Friend), the son of longtime competitor Madame Peloux (Kathy Bates). After a lifetime of using her beauty and guile to manipulate wealthy men for personal gain, de Lonval has come to believe that she is beyond the vicissitudes of romantic love; it is a shock to her system that the seemingly vapid Chéri can make her feel anything at all. Their romance is unlikely from the start, and when it becomes clear that Peloux has other (younger) plans for her son (realizing they will conveniently wound de Lonval in the process), the story is set. The fact that it remains so engrossing from start to finish is a testament to perfect casting and the superb efforts of the three leads. Kathy Bates works her usual magic, while Michelle Pfeiffer delivers a stunning performance, reflecting in every look and gesture the crumbling attributes and building agitation of a diva in decline. Friend is able to express exactly the right mixture of supreme arrogance and hopeless insecurity in the young hedonist Chéri, and his transformation into a world-weary, heart-broken adult is convincing.
Frears has been making excellent films for a long time, and with his latest he shows once again that he has an incredible ability to tell stories that are focused on female characters. From Dangerous Liaisons (1988) to Dirty Pretty Things (2002) to The Queen (2006), he has masterfully portrayed powerful women in his films, even if this power is not so obvious on first blush. While the eponymous character is indeed a primary figure in Chéri, the true center of the film is the woman he loves and the nature of the love she feels for him. The fact that Chéri is unable to defy the will of his own mother and the conventions of polite society to be with the older de Lonval is witness to both his impotence and to Preloux’s influence over him; as the power of the seductress wanes, the power of the mother becomes preeminent. In one last, long look into the mirror, de Lonval’s beautiful and tired face seems to cry out in protest: against aging, against impetuous youth, against the love she sold throughout the years.
When a film works this well, it becomes impossible to say who is most responsible. Every note is hit here: cinematographer Darius Khondji captures one perfect frame after another; Christopher Hampton’s script, adapted from novels by Colette, weaves the psychosexual drama and personal turmoil of these gilded Parisian elites into a seamless whole. And there are very few directors alive who work at Frears’s level. Unlike more pedestrian period films, content to simply luxuriate in the decadent costuming and pomp of the era, Chéri explores universal themes that continue to resonate with audiences. Sooner or later, we will all look into the mirror and wonder where the time has gone; we will all think back to our Chéri, whether a person, ambition, or fantasy long since abandoned.
Orson Robbins-Pianka
|
