Paris, 1830: Octave, betrayed by his mistress, sinks into despair and debauchery. His father's death leads him to the country where he meets Brigitte, a widow who is ten years his elder. Octave falls in love passionately, but will he have the courage to believe in it?
A turgidly oppressive, lifeless film that can’t even be recommended to collectors of cinematic oddities.
The film’s pacing is as sluggish as [Doherty] is.
How much damage can one man’s performance wreak on an otherwise serviceable film? When the film is this adaptation of Alfred de Musset’s semi-fictionalised memoir, and the man is Pete Doherty, the answer could be measured on the Richter scale.
Pete Doherty tries his absolute best, and in some ways isn't every bit as terrible as you might think. There's a poster quote for you.
Under the direction of a film-maker who speaks little English, Doherty and Gainsbourg give flat performances, their speech uninflected, their line readings uncertain.
Few beyond Doherty die-hards are going to need a second viewing.
Production design – all inky shadows and tremulous candlelight – is appealing. But stunt casting has sunk this one, and Doherty should either shelve any remaining acting ambition, or invest some of his drug money in a lesson or two.
General release. Check local listings for show times.
RSS feed of Cinema reviews