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Posted by on 23rd February 2010
There’s a fleeting but telling moment in Stephen Frears’ “Chéri” when the aging Lea de Lonval (Michelle Pfeiffer) stands on the balcony of her hotel suite, staring down at a remarkable younger man lifting weights on the beach. Their eyes lock for a moment, and the young man turns ever so slightly to give her a better recognize at his biceps. It’s not as if she couldn’t have this man; she is, after all, a fabulously rich courtesan, one of the most successful to emerge from the La Belle Epoque era at the turn of the last century. Unfortunately, the man she gazes upon is nothing more than reminders of what she no longer has, one being her young lover, the other being youth itself. She must now go through the process of letting go and fascinating on, a feat that proves to be powerful easier said than done.
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The narrative of “Chéri” is indeed a tragedy, but Frears and screenwriter Christopher Hampton (who adapted the fresh new by Colette) clearly had no desire to get the audience shout. Rather, they wanted to be lifeless and to the point, realistic instead of sentimental–they wanted the audience to ruminate on what’s possible given the site. While this is certainly one of the film’s greatest strengths, most of the success is due to the performances, which are dramatically charming yet believable at the same time. Pfeiffer is especially unbelievable as Lea, a woman with who clearly has feelings yet has made a career out of repressing them. It’s not in a courtesan’s best interest to vow her mind or topple in savor, but as we all know, emotion can often times win the better of us when we’re distracted.
The story: Lea is beseeched by her equally rich friend/rival, a weak courtesan named Charlotte Peloux (Kathy Bates), to persuade her son, Fred, who Lea has known since he was a child and has nicknamed Chéri (Rupert Friend) . At age nineteen, Charlotte feels that Fred is musty enough to marry and have grandchildren, which is really what this is all about. Unfortunately, Fred is spiteful and mopish, not at all feeble enough to be a husband or father. Charlotte wants Lea to construct a man out of her son. What was intended to be a few weeks of conditioning ended up becoming six years of decadent passion, Lea the provider of mountainous rooms and lavish gifts, Fred the self-indulgent boy who happily takes what she freely offers. Freud would have a field day with this one, seeing as Lea and Fred essentially section a mother/son relationship augmented by sex.
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When Fred returns to his right mother, he learns that she has arranged a marriage for him–to Edmee (Felicity Jones), the eighteen-year-old daughter of Marie Laurie (Iben Hjejle), another courtesan. Only then do Fred and Lea realize that their casual relationship has grown into care for. Partly as a design to cope with her feelings and partly as a contrivance to develop Fred jealous, Lea secretly goes on a retreat to a seaside hotel, telling not a soul where she is or for how long she will be there. During this time, she continues to get advances on rich and impressionable young men. Likewise, Fred continues to be his glum self, initially showing no right interest in his novel wife. There does arrive a moment, however, when he realizes that he and Edmee have more in accepted than he first thought; both were raised by mothers who had no true interest in them except at such moments when it superb them best. In essence, they’re orphans.
The tragedy of this epic comes from the knowledge that Lea and Fred were destined to drop in esteem yet born too far apart. The film handles this not with weepy melodrama but with a murky, reserved dignity, the kind that comes from adherence to strict professional guidelines. Courtesans in particular have it hard, financially well off but socially shunned. The only outlets they seem to have are other courtesans, who rely on the same mindless topics for every conversation. Long term relationships are certainly out of the question; it’s not about falling in cherish, but supporting yourself. Lea, desperately clinging to the notion of recapturing her youth with Fred, conveniently ignores this cardinal rule. One wonders if she knew all along how disastrous it is to play games in matters of the heart.
A mountainous share of the reason this movie works so well is because of Michelle Pfeiffer, who gives Lea such amazing charm and poise, her breathy, exaggerated remark the very embodiment of beauty, pleasure, and extravagance, all available for a impress. But all the actors are very well cast. Kathy Bates is priceless as the overbearing Madame Peloux, and Rupert Friend brings big arrogance and immaturity to the title character. “Chéri” is also a triumph of visual appeal, production designer Alan MacDonald, cinematographer Darius Khondji, and costume designer Consolata Boyle convincingly evoking the contemplate and feel of early twentieth century Paris. The entire film is a sensual experience that envelopes the audience, a somber but pleasing excursion into a world of carefree opulence, hidden feelings, and insecure romances. It’s practically a tragedy waiting to happen.
A rapture of visual, audio and cinematic emotional brilliance all tied with a killer last line. What a wonder is space before the viewer when one enters the world of “Cheri”.
The visual richness of this parfait of the Belle Epoch is breathtaking from the rich creamy art neuveau architecture to the gloriously realized costumes of the early 20th century. What they only indicated in “Sizable” of the same period costumes. Explodes in luxury and in a sense informs the recognize to the scene at hand and seems less costume than authentic clothing.
As Cinema “Cheri” succeeds as more than an adaptation of a Collette new but becomes a world unto it’s have. Here we are presented with some of our finest female performers at the top of their game. In short I am speaking of Michelle Pfeiffer and Kathy Bates. As traditional courtesan rivals who are now aging friends they approach together to account for the last section of their lives and the beginning of Bates’ son’s life in a grand intention.
Kathy Bates goes deep into the complexities of her mix of comedy and nuanced drama in the same intention she did with Annie Wilkes. Not to say that the characters of Annie and Madame Peloux are anything alike. But Miss Bates takes this role to a marvelous level while all the while not letting you notice her do her magic. She is impartial THERE! The scene where her face decays from a radioactively sunny laugh to affirm her just deepest disgust her improper soul is priceless.
Then there is Michelle Pfeiffer as Lea de Lonval, at fifty one she may be older that the literary Lea but she has never been more intelligent or nearly goddess like. To peruse at her is to gawk upon a woman of a sure age that is ageless in her embrace of times changing hands upon her face. But there is more. This may be the pinnacle of her career, the role of her lifetime. She is Lea in so many levels both within her acting and in a sense as an actress. She is exquisite and brings forth the soul of a large character as only our finest actors can.
But all of this would seem a delicious trifle, a light narrative of an aging courtesan and her young lover if it were not for the narration that gives the film added depth and gravitas. I asked a friend today what he idea of the final outcome of the yarn. Of what the narrator reveals of what became of Cheri. He tossed it off lightly and said that it seemed an after belief. He could not have been more unfavorable. He missed the whole point of the film. The last lines of the film that convey us of the ultimate fate of Lea and Cheri are what give this film an emotional strength, irony, and ultimately heart wrenching tragedy. It is the final twist situation into a handsome jewel of a film that is as challenging and gripping as Lea’s mysterious emerald ring.
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