Biopics are all somewhat un-spoilerable: you know from the first frames, where usually the character is shown as an adorable baby, that such character will do stuff, be famous and/or infamous and then die. That's why, in Cloclo, it's easy to fear the obvious outcome when, in the later part, the characters start to say "see you tomorrow" in an involuntarily ominous way.
I am a fan of French music but not of Claude François. The little I've seen and heard of him, seemed wooden, insincere and dated. All I knew before the film is that he dated France Gall and died young. I didn't know how he died and so to me the end came as a surprise twist, a stunning display of the pointless randomness of life, an almost unsubtle payback fit for a control freak. The surprise made come alive a film that, although hugely enjoyable because of the amazing acting, had to that point submissively followed the blueprint of Every Biopic Ever.
This is not a deep movie but then probably the life of its subject was a bit shallow itself. I wish it had had more historical / contextual references than those it has (Zero? Does a passing mention of Johnny Hallyday count?). Still, director and actors more than save the day: it's a period piece that it's terrific fun.
