Review of Bonjour Tristesse (1958) by R.c. K — 29 Sep 2007

Honest truth time: I know the name Otto Preminger, and it was the inspiration behind my purchase of this title, but I couldn't tell you, for the life of me, why I know it, other than in his role here as director. What did he direct before? No idea. So, that might be something to take into account (or not, if you share my predicament) when reading this.

We have here the story of Raymond (David Niven), rich playboy with the perfect touch when it comes to women. He wines and dines them and drops them when bored of them. We see his daughter Cecile (Jean Seberg), and she loves her father dearly, and emulates his behaviour by and large. We begin the movie in black and white, and we see little life in Cecile's face, and she asks if she will ever be happy again, like at the beginning of the previous summer, and we see flashes of colour now, of the ocean behind her. Here we see the song "Bonjour Tristesse" (which came first? don't ask me!) sung in the small club Cecile is telling us this from, or at least where she's thinking it, for these are only her thoughts as she dances with a well-dressed young man.

Soon we are transported back to that time, and see Raymond and Cecile vacationing with his current mistress Elsa (Mylène Demongeot), who they cheerfully wake up to find sunburnt and near peeling, which makes her terribly self-conscious about her physical beauty. Flighty as he is, Raymond takes two letters and throws out one business related one, and leaves the other in his pocket, unopened. After Cecile has an encounter with a young law student whose mast has broken on his sailboat, Raymond is reminded he put a letter in his pocket and opens it to discover that Cecile's godmother, a friend of his former wife's, is coming to visit after an invitation he forgot handing out at a party. They are both a bit worried about how she will take to Elsa, considering Raymond had not realized she would be there when he gave out the invitation.

She arrives by car, though Raymond expects her by train (thanks to another ignored letter, or rather, telegram), and so only Cecille is there to meet her. She casually mentions Elsa's presence, which Anne--the godmother, played by Deborah Kerr--is not enthused to hear about. Soon Raymond has taken a fancy to this older woman over his sunburnt and peeling mistress, and a new affair begins, with Anne placing in stark contrast to the carefree approach Raymond himself as, and has instilled in Cecile. Cecile is not pleased about this and begins to hatch a plan to undo this romance--and we soon discover why she wonders if she will ever be happy again.

An oddly engaging little film, there's not an awful lot to the plot (which I assume comes primarily from Françoise Sagan's novel of the same name) that is amazing, ground-breaking or otherwise interesting, but the performances are terribly strong, and the way Preminger has crafted the film is inexplicably endearing. I knew I was caught when the song started, and it felt like no other movie approaches such things; it floated over any other noise, was totally relevant, yet was still being performed in the scene. Oddly this brought to mind vague memories of David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, which doesn't really make sense to me, except to suggest that it was a sort of surreal or even unreal element, though here it melded perfectly with otherwise normal happenings (beyond the infusion and loss of colour as we travel between times, at least) and fit perfectly to point out the feelings Cecile was now experiencing, without seeming overbearing.

It was fascinating to see an exploration of the effects of a single parent's lifestyle on his child, when she was of an age to continue to emulate without thinking too far ahead about consequences; to see, too, how he reacted to this and attempted to turn her one way or another--as well as the different ways they experienced the events around them and dealt with them. Cecile seemed almost incapable of change unless shaken in some way from where she was, while Raymond could effortlessly turn from one lifestyle to another, it seemed.

Certainly my favourite part was Niven's performance; that quiet, speedy British sort of wit seen most recently in the likes of Peter Ustinov. It came out in the wonderful dialogue from all characters, but Niven seemed most self-assured with it. Seberg's performance had a certain youthful exuberance and vitality to it--if I'm allowed to refer to such a thing as if I have a backward eye on it--that was endearing, but also displayed a lack of experience in some ways as well.

Still, a surprisingly solid film; I didn't expect this exactly when I went into it, but then I wasn't sure what to expect. Either a very French, very artsy film, or else a generic late 50s, early 60s sort of drama or comedy. It turned out to be something else. What, I'm not quite sure, but it was certainly entertaining, and quite good.