Cloclo

I have to disagree with the other review. I'm not a fan of Claude François, I'm not a fan of the 70s, yet I loved the movie. And that's because of Jeremy Renier's amazing performance. He's extremely magnetic, doesn't show any of the French (slightly precious and fake-sounding to me) brand of acting. The film isn't perfect and the script, certainly, would've deserved some work. It's rather descriptive and chronological. Yet I enjoyed every 158 minutes of it and that's what matters. Renier is AMAZING, so is the production design by the way. I would definitely recommend it to people who don't care about Claude François. If only because he's the guy who wrote one of the most famous songs in the world, which most people would attribute to Sinatra: My Way.

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.

I basically knew nothing about French pop superstar Claude François before seeing this film, apart what he looked like, a couple of his songs and how he died.

A talented filmmaker, Florent-Emilio Siri has surrounded himself with a stellar cast and captures dazzling visuals to deliver what ends up being a rather classic, well-made musical biopic that (re)introduces the singing sensation to the 21st century.

On the down side, the film sometimes plays like a highlight reel of sorts, seemingly jumping from one flagship scene to the next without taking the time to explain the significance of events unfolding to the unfamiliar viewer, while at the same time jumping over portions of François' life that look like they might have quite some importance.

However on the positive, apart from the aforementioned excellence of the actors and the incredible shots scattered throughout the picture, Cloclo also gives an insight into an aspect of the musical industry that is rarely seen on film, which is the "industrial" production of songs, creation as seen through a committee rather than a single artist. Quite fascinating.

Just saw the film, that came out today in France. For those who are nostalgic, it is probably a good enough reason to like this biopic. For those who are fans of Claude François, there is nothing that should make them sad or angry. All the ingredients are there: poor young lad becomes rich and famous through music, gets the money and the beautiful girls, and dies in a stupid accident, young enough (39) to not have to witness his decay, like with Johnny Hallday. However, for those who are not nostalgic of the seventies and who are no fans of Claude François: don't even consider satisfying your curiosity, because there is nothing to see.

There are two films in CloClo; the first is a very disappointing biopic, flat and monotonous tale about a music freak, which never hesitates to state the obvious, and follows without an hint of originality the pattern of CloClo's life. Its scenario lacks of imagination and pictures a tyrannic Claude François, so full of himself, so ready to do anything to be famous , and killing metaphorically anyone who's got more success than him: such a detestable character.

The second film takes place very gradually in your mind while you're still angry at what you're watching; but, as you feel deep inside that this biopic is nothing but a major failure, you cannot avoid admiring Jérémie Rénier's flawless acting and impersonation , and later you get enthused by Siri's own virtuosity with the camera (the party in the Moulin), and gradually you begin to understand that you enjoy yourself, that you don't want it to stop, never, and that you're anticipating with growing horror the approaching and unavoidable scene of the fatal shower, which leaves you, the audience, and dozens of groupies (some sleeping in his hallway) in tears... And you remember now why you always liked CloClo, why his death in the late seventies represented the end of your own childhood; such an exceptional person...