Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky

Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky: A mixture of Chanel No. 5 and the music of Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring". It depicts a love story between two geniuses: madness, passion, pain and aesthetics. With her beauty and her deep voice, Anna Mouglalis embodies her character with grace and talent. She's truly sublime. The cast is very good, and it is beautifully filmed, full of gorgeous details. The historical reconstruction is also almost perfect.

Although this film is quite different from Kounen's previous movies, it is primarily a film which is qualitatively very solid. One of the most memorable sequences of the film is the moment when, after a short sequence introducing Coco Chanel, we watch the famous sequence of the Rite of Spring. Although you cannot compare Stravinsky with Kounen, this sequence refers in a way to the reaction he got with some of his previous films: adored by some and totally rejected by others. After this sequence, we enter directly in the plot that tightens the relationship between Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky. Through this story of feverish passion and this both intense and particular relationship, Kounen questions the turmoil of creation and thus plunges us into the intimacy of two of the most influential figures of their time, each being on the verge of achieving something extreme in their work (fashion/perfume, and avant-garde music). A very interesting film that demonstrate that Kounen has the ability to capture a new subject: not really a biopic, more a tale of an intense passion and confusion. The question remains whether this film is a parenthesis in his career or a new development.

COCO CHANEL & IGOR STRAVINSKY is a sumptuously beautiful film to watch - all artsy art nouveau decor, almost devoid of conversation, with captiating portrayals of two of the 20th century's most creative talents - Coco and Igor - played with distant but memorable acting by Anna Mouglalis and Mads Mikkelsen. And there is enough of the core star (Stravinsky's 'Le sacre du printemps') of the 'biography' to make it musically stable. But the problem with this otherwise tasty peak into the lives of Coco and Igor is the lack of accuracy of fact. Perhaps that is what writers Chris Greenhalgh, Carlo De Boutiny, writer/director Jan Kounen had in mind: drop a few elements of fact, mix those with a huge dollop of imagination and create a moment of lust and frustration that usually accompanies the public and private lives of stars. Perhaps in their eyes, fiction is stranger than fact.

What we do know is that prior to the May 29, 1913, at the Théatre des Champs-Elysées in Paris scandalous premiere of 'Le sacre du printemps' Igor Stravinsky (Mads Mikkelsen) was a very successful composer of such favorites as 'The Firebird' and 'Petrouska' and before his premiere of 'Le sacre' was presented by the Ballet Russes under the direction of Diagilev (Grigori Manukov) with choreography by the notorious Vaslav Nijinsky (Marek Kossakowski in a very bland portrayal): Stravinsky would later write in his autobiography of the process of working with Nijinsky on the choreography, stating that "the poor boy knew nothing of music" and that Nijinsky "had been saddled with a task beyond his capacity." In the audience is the icy Coco Chanel (Anna Mouglalis) who, still grieving for her deceased lover Boy Patel (Anatole Taubman), connects with the primitive passions of the production. The film then cuts to 1920 with Stravinsky and his four children and tuberculous wife Katerina (Yelena Morozova) barely existing in Paris when Diaghilev introduces Stravinsky to the wealthy patron Coco Chanel who invites the poverty stricken Stravinsky family to stay in her lavish villa outside Paris where Stravinsky composes while Katerina copies her husband's music and Coco keeps her successful Parisian business and seeks out her famous perfume Chanel No. 5. Some history books (including memoirs by Stravinsky himself) state that the stay lasted for only 2 weeks and that the two were simply close friends, but the creators of the film would have us believe that a torrid love affair occurred under the eyes of Katerina, a lusty sexual fulfilling of a need for both geniuses which ends in Katerina and the children moving out to Biarritz and distance develops between Igor and Coco: the secretive patronage of Coco to the Ballet Russes is supposed to have allowed a new performance of the 'Sacre' with costumes designed by Chanel and re-choreographed by Leonid Massine - the truth of these elements cannot be proved.

So what we have here is a two hour nearly wordless study of the needs of two famous people colliding in an affair but also focusing the world of Paris' attention on new ways of creativity. Mikkelsen and Mouglalis are terrific if cold, the 'love' scenes are beautifully photographed, and the decor of Chanel's house and all of the costumes are splendid. Gabriel Yared provides a musical score that is based on phrases from Stravinsky and makes for an exciting background for this visual outing. It is worth viewing if only to step inside the Paris of the time of the two main characters. Just don't expect solid facts to reign! Grady Harp

Anna Mouglalis is very thin, Mads Mikkelsen has wonderful cheekbones and they do not convince me that they are playing Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky respectively. The other actors, with the exception of Grigori Manukov as Diaghilev, left no impression on me at all. Surely Chanel had more passion, more anger in her than we see in Mouglalis; surely Stravinsky made more attempts to assert himself with the domineering Chanel than Mikkelsen does here.

I was left with a great regret that the great masters of cinema have gone, the directors that were able to fashion material like this into art: Visconti, Losey, Ophuls.

If you think Audrey Tautou's Coco in Coco before Chanel is a restrained performance, Anna Mouglalis' Coco in Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky will seem downright glacial. But not cold in a romantic sense, just careful and controlled as you might expect from the iconic head of a fashion house and perfume.

Then again, Stravinsky, despite his iconoclastic Rite of Spring presented in its disturbing debut, is almost as glacial and controlling as Coco. Their love scenes are pretty as a picture, yet that's the point—they are a metaphor for the detached heroes playing at love. The film is inaccessible if you want to experience the subjects' passions in depth but satisfying if you wish to see the sacrifice these 20th-century monuments made in their personal lives for their creations.

The real strength of this biopic is in the production design and cinematography, a triumph of black and white idolatry in a muted color envelope. The architectural rendering of Coco's obsession with black and white, right down to white doors with black borders, is unforgettable, making Igor's tight fitting clothes and equally stiff glasses counterpoint to the elegantly reserved Coco. The estate, autos, and concert scenes are so realistically wrought as to make you think you were there.

The third act is a disappointment despite attempts to connect the heroes with their elder years. Well, maybe that's the point—cold is a cold does, tribal, pagan rites don't always end up well with cold monochromatic passion. However, the film manages to make it all seductive.

It's not easy to enter this closed world of fashion and composition—Igor's wife Katarina (Elena Morozova) and her children are mere accessories in the tight drama between Coco and Igor. However, the principals are so carefully controlled that even we the film spectators are outsiders

Anyone who presumed that this film would be a follow-on from 'Coco before Chanel', Anne Fontaine's endearing, rags-to-riches depiction of Gabrielle 'Coco' Chanel, would be mistaken. This film is director Jan Kounen's attempt to portray Coco how she really was: a mean-spirited, conceited femme fatale.

Only the avant-garde artistry of Igor Stravinsky's music is enough to mollify Coco (Anna Mouglalis). The Russian composer's controversial work repels most for being too audacious and violent, but it entrances her, and after the Russian revolution leaves Igor and his family penniless, Coco invites them to live with her. Igor accepts and thus begins a cataclysmic affair.

What begins as a 'Remains of the Day'-type attraction – where Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson were at pains to disclose their true feelings for each other and could only do so through knowing glances – very quickly descends into a sex-crazed love affair rivalling the one in 'Last Tango in Paris'.

A subject you can usually trust French filmmakers with, however, what's missing from the plentiful love scenes between the two is, frankly, love. In fact, their entire relationship is rather curious. It's redolent of the relationship a drug addict has with drugs: It's the feeling the substance gives that's sacrosanct, not the substance itself.

I was unmoved by what I believed should have been an intense performance for the part of Igor (Mads Mikkelsen). It is staid and lacklustre, interrupted by the occasional paroxysm when he is writing or playing music. The filming of Stravinsky's seminal piece, 'The Rite of Spring' in the grand Champs-Élysées theatre (as in actuality) is very impressive: the suspense, drama and sheer creepiness convince you that you are seeing the spectacle for real.

It may be reasonably assumed that Coco was purely a product of her insular background - provincial, orphaned, raised by nuns - but she is never worthy of pity. The only person who deserves this is Igor's wife, Katherine (Yelena Morozova). Her characterisation of a powerless woman who sees her husband slip away from her inch by inch is so full of pathos that it leaves you contemplating whether to buy a bottle of Chanel No. 5 ever again.

For all her brutality, though, there's a wonderfully dainty scene where she formulates her signature fragrance. As with everything else, she's very pernickety and it's only after playing Goldilocks that she arrives at the correct blend of the 80 ingredients.

Asked if she ever felt guilty for her deeds, Coco simply says 'No' unbearably cavalierly, which left me wondering: If she never had any humanity for herself, why should we have any for her?

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