Movie Review: Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky
Tale of artistic passion fails to ignite
The film picks up seamlessly where [i]Coco Before Chanel[/i] ended, in a blazing riot of anger and support for Russian composer [b]Stravinsky[/b] ([b]Mads Mikklesen[/b], a former Bond villain) at the premiere of his daring and controversial show ‘The Rites of Spring’, which mesmerises a recently bereaved [b]Chanel[/b]. Seven years later, she invites the penniless but brilliant composer into her home, along with his wife and children, embarking on an affair which complements his renewed vigour for composition and her new venture, the iconic Chanel No.5 perfume.
The devastatingly beautiful [b]Anna Mouglalis[/b] embodies the part of the chic, fashion maverick in looks, creating a far colder [b]Chanel[/b] than [b]Audrey Tatou[/b], devastated as she now was by the death of her lover [b]Boy Capel[/b]. In this she is triumphant – as is [b]Mikkelsen[/b], for his troubled, strained genius Stravinsky, (whose potently emotional music is displayed magnificently here and alone, worth a viewing). They are wonderful, watchable actors, but the electricity needed to make this coupling believable is palpably lacking, leaving a dry, brittle affair, the voyeurism of which a passion-seeking audience will soon tire. And what is a film which hinges on a single relationship without passion? More interesting, and certainly more electric, is the morality driven dynamic between [b]Chanel[/b] and [b]Stravinsky[/b]’s bedridden wife ([b]Elena Morozova[/b]), who plays on her compassion to reclaim her man.
Dutch filmmaker [b]Jan Kounen[/b], who directed the mesmerising and offbeat comic adaptation [i]Blueberry[/i], could have been a good fit for a film in which the action is almost solely emotional. But he’s brought little of the eclectic flair that made [i]Blueberry[/i], or the charismatic 1997 thriller [i]Doberman[/i] so watchable, opting instead for a stuffy, arthouse approach that focuses on beautiful sets, exquisite clothes – and not much else.
If the aftertaste desired is one of artistic expression taking the place of human emotion, then job well done. But I highly doubt I’d have cared as little for either genius in the flesh as I did for their representation here.
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