Bonjour Tristesse

David Niven and Jean Seberg say "Bonjour Tristesse" in this 1958 film directed by Otto Preminger and also starring Deborah Kerr and Mylène Demongeot. Niven and Seberg are Raymond and Cecile, a father and daughter vacationing on the Riviera and having a superficial blast for themselves. Raymond has his current girlfriend Elsa (Demongeot) living with them as well.

When a good friend of Raymond's late wife, Anne (Kerr) comes to visit, things change - at first for the better, as the four of them continue the party atmosphere. Later, when Anne becomes Raymond's fiancée and begins to discipline Cecile, the fun stops. Cecile decides that Anne will have to go.

The film is told in flashback, black and white representing the present and glorious color used to tell the story, which is narrated by Seberg.

There's lots about this movie that is fascinating, and some of it just sort of falls flat. The idea that a deep-thinking, responsible career woman comes into the lives of two bon vivants is an interesting one, and you couldn't ask for a better cast.

The beginning of the film, and even Cecile's plan to get rid of Anne that she brings Elsa and her own boyfriend Phillipe in on has a lighthearted feel to it. What Raymond and Cecile never considered is that there are ramifications for actions, Cecile due to her immaturity and Raymond because he's Raymond.

David Niven is terrific as the dashing Raymond, who loves a party, and Deborah Kerr gives a warm performance as Anne, who truly loves him and wants to ground both him and his daughter. The curiosity here is Seberg. She is as always the perfect gamine. Any time she's in a scene, you can't take your eyes off of her. She's so darn beautiful. Yet I don't think I've ever heard her say one line that I believed. And she's one actress where it just doesn't seem to matter. We hear a lot about "it" - well, she really had it.

Gorgeous scenery - you want to leave for the Riviera immediately. And, truth to tell, spending some time with Raymond, Cecile and Elsa before the arrival of Anne wouldn't be bad either.

Reviews of this film are more interesting and thought provoking than most. A number of them convey critical insights that certainly deepened my appreciation. Yes, the film is flawed, but it also resonates beyond standard soap opera mainly because of its tragic central premise. That the movie doesn't fully realize its aim, I'm sorry to say, is largely because of limitations in Seberg's performance. I agree, she's a lively and compelling screen presence with a freshness that's genuinely appealing. However, the role of Cecile calls upon more emotional depth than Seberg manages to convey, especially with the absence of troubled emotions. Thus the sense of tragic outcome stems from sources other than Seberg's performance. Now, there are several ways of looking at Cecile's emotional make-up and maturity, but there's one I believe that most strongly recommends itself and also puts Seberg's performance in the best light.

On this view, Seberg has Cecile's character just right during the sunny Technicolor phase. Cecile is simply too immature to realize the potential consequences of her scheming actions. Thus, Cecile (Seberg) attaches no more gravity to breaking up her father's relationship than she does to skipping her studies. She's all spoiled selfishness wrapped in a winsome smile. And it's not until the car crash that she realizes the consequences of her selfish act, and experiences an emotional depth for the first time. Her scheme thus results not from making a wrongful choice but from not even realizing that a choice is being made. This view would vindicate nine-tenths of Seberg's unconflicted Technicolor performance, but not the black- and-white phase where Seberg fails to convey the conflict required. This view would also explain the added features of narration, color change and Saul Bass graphics once Preminger realizes that Seberg's performance is not enough to convey the necessary sense of tragedy.

Despite this central flaw, the movie remains oddly haunting. Maybe it's because of a sun- washed paradise so carelessly lost, or of a summer of such promise turned into a lifetime of regret. I really like the observation that father and daughter behave as though actions have no consequences. As a result, their humanity is only realized once the importance of this lesson is tragically driven home. Only by then, it's too late. In my view, the movie remains regrettably underrated.

Wealthy playboy father and his precocious seventeen-year old daughter share a sassy, flirty relationship with one another while teasing and leading-on potential romantic partners for both. But the fun and games are called to a halt once dad is reunited with an old friend of the family, a chic fashion designer who would like to see both father and daughter get serious about their lives. Talented writer Arthur Laurents adapted his screenplay from Françoise Sagan's book, yet even with Otto Preminger directing a classy cast, this soaper set on the Riviera never comes to a boil. Preminger sees the idle rich as spoiled and decadent, dancing away mindlessly into the night, yet the players (David Niven and gamine Jean Seberg as father and daughter, Deborah Kerr as Niven's fiancée) bring a lot more heart and human interest to the piece than was probably intended. As such, the characters are more embraceable than the writing and handling, and portions of the film are puzzling or awkward. Still, film-lovers of this era in cinema will no doubt bask in the lush surroundings, not to mention in the enjoyable performances and beautiful photography (black-and-white for the present day, color for the past). The script might have benefited from more honesty in the finale--the 'irony' in bringing these dead-end lives full circle isn't very cutting--and there are two supporting characters who are given the shaft by Laurents. There are certainly pleasures to be had here, however, most notably in the scenes between Kerr and Seberg. **1/2 from ****

Film makers love to show off the Rivera, and for good reason. It's one of the most spectacular venues in the world. However, it's interesting to compare Preminger's Rivera with those of Hitchcock in "To Catch a Thief" and Powell's in "The Red Shoes". In "The Red Shoes" the Riviera is merely a setting in which artists work obsessively to create their art while paying virtually no attention to it. For Hitchcock, the Riviera is a lush background for intrigue. In Preminger's "Bonjour Tristesse" the Riviera represents the lifestyle that the characters desire; luxurious, sensual, hedonistic and, ultimately, empty. "Bonjour Tristesse" is worth seeing for the Riviera, which looks fabulous, and Jean Seberg, who looks fabulous. However, the story is as shallow as the characters.

I do not think that it would be giving away the plot to say that the viewer is led to believe from the very beginning that he is seeing a tragedy. After all, the title translates as "Hello, Sorrow". Furthermore, the opening exposition, filmed in somber black-and-white, leads one to believe that the lives of the protagonists have been devastated by some great tragedy. However, from the very beginning it is also obvious that this impression is not true at all. The father and daughter are depicted as a pair of shallow, selfish, hedonists who care nothing for anything or anyone beyond each other and their own immediate gratification.

The story does not even mention exactly what, if anything, it is that the father does for a living. He is obviously extremely wealthy, but is never seen to do any sort of work or transact any business. It was apparently sufficient for the author that he should be nothing more than a rich, idle, middle-aged playboy who changes his cars as frequently as his daughter, who never wears the same outfit twice, changes her clothes.

In short, not only are the characters in this story not real people, they are not even sympathetic unreal people. It's bad enough having to put up with an hour and a half movie about mannequins without them having to be unlikable mannequins.

A good-for-nothing, unhappy high society girl recalls a summer when she destroyed the love of her rich playboy father and his respectable bride, because she was afraid of finishing their hedonistic lifestyle.

Well-acted, starry cast and very graciously made but, in atmosphere, oddly faithless adaptation of a sharply cynical novel, which tends to glamorize and ennoble its originally unlovable characters against luxurious backgrounds. It holds the interest, however, and the glossily colorful photography of the sunlit French Rivera in the past alternating with the bleakly black and white present, is particularly excellent.