Bonjour tristesse

The films of Otto Preminger share for the most part a detached objectivity in their attitudes to character and moral issues…

In "Bonjour Tristesse," his gamine protégé Cecile (Jean Seberg) is a very peculiar girl, maybe spoiled and willful and arrogant and lazy…

Anne (Deborah Kerr) had made her look at herself for the first time in her life…And that turned her against her… And now, her father is not having fun anymore, which was probably another reason she decided to get rid of her… How carefully and how seriously she went about that decision, is the tale of Françoise Sagan, published in 1954, by the time she was nineteen…

Raymond (David Niven) is a bundle of surprises… For him, it's such a wonderful fun to have Cecile for a daughter… And loving Anne doesn't mean that he loves his daughter any less… The wealthy playboy becomes serious from the moment that Anne arrived… He could never think of her as just someone to have fun with… He does have fun with Elsa (Mylène Demongeot) but that's a long way from being all he wants… Now, he has never wanted any woman the way he wants Anne…

Anne spent her honeymoon by the sea 12 years ago… She had quite a debate with herself before coming down to the French Riviera… For knowing that Elsa was there, she got stupidly angry and decided to leave…Then the prospect of packing and looking for a hotel was too much after that long drive so she decided to stay…

Being too sophisticated (maybe for discovering occupied territory), Anne was as suspicious of summer as she was of Raymond in spite of the fact that she knew him 15 years ago, and was quite sure that with him, nobody is safe…

For Cecile, Anne is prim and prissy and prude… For a woman who hates vulgarities—even when they're funny—she could never be seriously interested in a man like her father… So part of her was angry, part was happy, all of her was excited… Her father had brought a girl to the seashore, made her go out in the sun and then when she was a mess of peeling, dropped her like a hot lobster… It was unfair… Yet even while she was angry at him, she was proud that he had gotten the unattainable Anne… Anne looks now softer… She moves easier… In the morning, she seems as though she had the most wonderful secret in the world…

Suddenly she becomes aware of a great responsibility towards Cecile, as it would be good if she stops seeing Philippe (Geoffrey Horne) and studies for her philosophy examination…

Cecile becomes furious at her interference… Anne wants her to study and not to see Philippe… So what shall it be? For her, there'll be a man to take care of her…And she doesn't need a diploma for that…

Now she hates Anne… For her, she has changed her father…She'll change her and will change everything

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.

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.

A fascinating, frustrating, though ultimately deeply satisfying film. Many readers have commented on the frustrations, and they are hard to deny. My experience of this movie goes back to the early 70s, when I first encountered it in ideal circumstances, at the Museum of Modern Art during its complete Preminger retrospective, and in a gorgeous, perfect print. A great introduction to a film whose very meaning resides in its glossy surface. The first few minutes of the film powerfully set up the tragedy that is to come: Saul Bass's dripping teardrop titles underscored with Auric's deeply tragic music, followed by the first black and white scenes depicting Cecile's current active but deeply disengaged life. Then, as Cecile arrives home and begins remembering "last summer", the blue Mediterranean sea begins to invade the frame, little by little -- a striking effect, to say the least --, we are there, in the midst of a carefree vacation with Cecile, Raymond and Elsa, and quite successfully invited to forget the tragedy that seems to be in the making and enter a carefree, sunlit world where nothing, seemingly, could ever go wrong. Masterful film-making, and, thus far, perfectly pitched: Seberg's perfectly expressionless and beautiful face has no small part in making it work. That she is less secure in the flashback scenes is unfortunate, but her physical presence at least gives the right signs: this is a very young girl, happy but extremely shallow. (Yes, I will admit that the line readings are quite stiff -- no question she is "acting." But, if one is already in the proper frame of mind they are not all that damaging.) What's important is the holiday mood, and the performances of Niven and Mylene Demongeot are sufficiently effervescent to evoke it. (Demongeot is a real charmer -- beautiful beyond belief and full of joie de vivre.) The arrival of Deborah Kerr on the scene changes all this: a dignified Lady coming into the midst of a world she finds immoral, distasteful and, in the deepest sense, unacceptable: her reaction to realizing that Raymond is, shall we say, shacking up with Elsa is the turning point of the film, the crossroads of comedy and tragedy. And from this point we are invited to see how, step by step, comedy turns to tragedy. What's most wonderful about this film is how diverting that progression is. The world of the French Riviera is, after all, a world of carefree bliss (at least on the surface), and we are given ample opportunity to enjoy that along with the characters in the film: a delightful casino scene (enlivened by the presence of that wonderful actor, Walter Chiari, a truly handsome man with a wonderful flair for comedy, and here, playing opposite Demongeot, particularly delightful) and a visually stunning dance at the dock, a masterpiece of costume design in delicious color and Cinemascope, worthy of a Minnelli musical (and, in its delirious scale, surpassing most of them). Finally, let me just say that the final moments of the film (and I will refrain from spoiling them) are among the most moving in all cinema: an evocation of self-loathing and emptiness that remains unrivaled in its beauty. Yes, beauty. Caveat emptor: It is useless to see this film in the pan&scan version (I have had the experience, and it is horrible). The Columbia DVD edition looks great (absolutely NO extras, by the way; it appears to have been simply dumped on the market -- odd treatment of a masterpiece). Oh, yes, my title heading: Preminger's previous films had mostly dealt with "little" events -- noirs, small comedies, etc.; most of his subsequent films ("Exodus," "The Cardinal," "Advise and Consent," "In Harms Way") with Big Events. This one is still on an intimate scale, but has much in common visually (particularly the masterful use of CinemaScope, to which Preminger took like a fish to water) with the later films.

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.