A Certain Smile

Francoise Sagan's novels have all in my opinion suffered at the hands of writers and directors bringing her work to the screen. I even find the often praised Otto Preminger version of ' Bonjour Tristesse ' unconvincing, and like ' A Certain Smile ' suffers from uncertain casting. Only ' La Chamade ' made in French partly works in Sagan's favour despite again one poor actor nearly ruining it, and saved by Catherine Deneuve. But against all the odds against it I find ' A Certain Smile ' to be very watchable. Jean Negulesco catches the exterior's of Paris in the late 1950's well, and the film is worth watching for any Paris lovers. It is not the over polished Paris that we see now (I am talking of the centre and not the suburbs) and the sight of it caught at my throat with nostalgia. The sad news is that only one fairly to poor copy of this film seems to be available, and I cannot imagine why there is no decent DVD of it. Christine Carere has charm, but her tortured English is painful to hear. Rossano Brazzi was ill chosen, and looked rather bored as her older lover, and Bradford Dillman in his first role is very good indeed as Carere's ill treated boyfriend. And Joan Fontaine as Brazzi's wife is excellent, especially in the scenes where she confronts her husband with his infidelities. She is the most capable actor as she shows she has perhaps read the book closely enough to try to get to the heart of it. Despite perhaps justifiable criticism the film strangely works, and it is a shame that Christine Carere was not given more time in learning English, and those who decided to make the film should have realised that. She is good with the ending and that counts. And to repeat what I have said it is better than some other more worthy Sagan translations to the screen, and I could watch it more than once.

It has some beautiful scenery, and a very hummable theme song, but other than that it's not very effective. Director Negulesco did much better with the studio-bound "Best of Everything." One doesn't really care about any of these self-involved people (well, maybe a little for the Joan Fontaine character). Zero chemistry between supposed lovers Brazzi and Carrere. For some much better film adaptations of Francoise Sagan novels, try Bonjour Tristesse and Aimez Vous Brahms (in which Yves Montand plays the same compulsive-womanizer type as Brazzi in "Smile," but somewhat more compellingly). I have to admit that Sagan's characters in general are pretty boring to me.

After one innocent kiss a bittersweet romance eventually blossoms so naturally between young Dominique (Christine Carere) and the easygoing charmer Luc (Rossano Brazzi), who also happens to be married to Francoise (Joan Fontaine).

There is a tug of war within Dominique as she tries to come to terms with her feelings for Luc as well as for young Bertrand who wants to marry her. Human nature being what it is, we can understand all too well what she goes through -- the hopes and dreams, the joys and sorrows that make up life's experiences -- all are a part of her growing up. However, there is a price to pay for gaining maturity but she comes through in the end.

Romantic music throughout sets the mood for many tender scenes as well as a few frolicking lighthearted ones. Early on Johnny Mathis sings "A Certain Smile" to perfection. Don't pass this one up if you are a Mathis fan.

Joan Fontaine is admirable in her portrayal of the loving, caring wife who must deal with a husband's waywardness. One fine actress!

This is Romance indeed with a very human touch.

Christine Carère is a law student at the Sorbonne. She is engaged to fellow student Bradford Dillman. She has an affair with professor Rosssano Brazzi, which ends badly.

Jean Negulescu's lush version of Francoise Sagan's novel shows his painterly eye for landscapes and scenes, as Mlle Carère spouts existentialism as it is better to do than to be, and fouls things up completely. I have never read the book, so I can't tell if that is the mesae there, or if screenwriters Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett added that. I have a lot more sympathy for Joan Fontaine as Brazzi's wife.

Johnny Mathis gargles the Oscar-nominated title song.

Attractive looking romance fails to fully engage, despite glorious landscapes, Parisian backdrops and a glamorous A-list cast including a memorable performance by an enchanting Joan Fontaine. Her apparently fading allure is causing her husband Luc (Brazzi) to philander, his attentions straying to the nubile Parisian college student Dominique (Carere). To add to the evolving interlude, Brazzi is Bertrand's (Dillman) uncle, who in turn is enamoured by Dominique, chasing her tail all over Paris in spite of her sometimes erratic and distant behaviour (although Bertrand himself might be a little overbearing and loose with the vermouth).

At the intermission, Johnny Mathis steps up to croon the title tune, and thus escalates Luc's affections for a playful Dominique, partially inebriated on the grape juice. Fontaine seems to suspect Luc may be straying, displaying some subtle gestures, her wisdom laboured over years of Luc's infidelity. The scene in which Fontaine emasculates Brazzi for his adultery, and the one in which she coolly chides Carere's naivety are among the film's dramatic highlights. In essence, Fontaine steals this picture with her mature, dignified portrayal of a woman scorned.

Carere on the other hand is lukewarm, the nuances of her character aren't conveyed in her stilted performance; Brazzi, at the opposite extreme, lays it on too thick, like some hormonal Latin lover crying rivers of guilt and remorse as he laments the mutual attraction as some kind of perverse affliction of which he can't be cured. Dillman, in his debut picture, offers some character depth, but ends up merely a tragic cuckold and bystander in this colourful melodrama. The remainder of the supporting cast (Franz, Locke and Livingston) are reliable if largely uninvolved.

Next to Fontaine, the French Riviera is the most attractive feature - the sets, costumes, colour and sound are all assets, but the dramatic tone never seems to sustain the right pitch. Tepid and a little overlong if however you still revere Fontaine, or pine for the Paris lifestyle, this glossy magazine cover might still be worth the time.