LA VIE EN ROSE (a.k.a. La Môme): Blu-ray (Picturehouse 2007) Legende/TFI Video
Few bio-pics
about the rich and famous do justice to their intended subject matter. Instead,
most regress to a level of artistry, inextricably trapped somewhere between
glamorized, glossed-over truths and utterly dull concocted fiction. Olivier
Dahan’s La Vie En Rose (a.k.a. La Môme 2007) is the exception to this
rule; a viscerally engaging, brutally tragic tome, embodying the heart-breaking
complexities of legendary chanteuse, Edith Piaf. The trick and the majesty in
Dahan’s direction is tenuously balanced between a superb evocation of Piaf’s
squalid childhood and impoverished youth and Dahan’s cherry-picking of aspects
from Piaf’s bittersweet success that avoid any commentary whatsoever on her
work in the French Resistance during WWII. Still, he manages to remain captivatingly
literal to Piaf’s tapestry of life.
The other
inspiration working for the film is Marion Cotillard’s sensitive interpretation
of Piaf. It is hardly a stretch to suggest Cotillard as one of the most
charming and exotic French beauties of our time, and, in the same breath point
out that Edith Piaf – even in her prime – was hardly that at all; more the
little brown wren than a blossoming bird of paradise. Cotillard’s haunting
physical transformation is a miracle of prosthetics and makeup. But it remains
only half of the makeover. The more formidable conversion is burnished from within.
With soulful grace, integrity and panged, tortured desperation, Cotillard wills
Piaf from the grave. It’s a startling performance, Oscar-worthy and so honored
by the Academy.
There are
really two narratives simultaneously at work in this magnificent film: the
first documenting Edith Piaf’s tumultuous childhood and youth; the second charting
her decline and frail, failing health, her addictions to prescriptions and
alcohol, and her ill-fated love affairs in the months preceding her untimely
death. Dahan’s direction reveals the vibrant, textured intricacies of a woman
who, too late in life, discovers her own inner strength pieced together from
tattered remnants and teeming with regrets. And yet, the tale is one of
inspiration; of a tearfully triumphant human spirit set free from its
world-weary and weather-beaten human tabernacle.
Piaf’s
enduring legacy as the preeminent French chanteuse of her generation is
unimpeachable. To listen to her vocalizations today is to have her reach
through one’s sound system and time itself as few artists of any generation can
or have, the phenomenon of this wounded girl, firmly cemented in an adult
woman’s vocal range, puncturing the balloons of hypocrisy with an impassioned
fortitude. If only for this indescribable and elusive quality, then Edith Piaf
would already be a legend. She is, in fact, never anything less than authentic.
Yet, Dahan’s film could so easily have missed its mark with a lesser actress in
the lead. With Marion Cotillard, however, he has achieved a sublime fusion of
one artist bewilderingly morphed into another.
There are no
superlatives to effectively summarize Cotillard’s central performance. The film
belongs to her. In manner, visage and sheer acting prowess, she assuages the
artifice of her craft and provides a seamless bridge from Piaf’s past into the
present; in effect, doing everything but call out Piaf in an otherworldly
spiritual resurrection. It’s enough to send chills down one’s spine as
Cotillard ignites the inner lantern of Piaf's own desire, the stirring echoes
caught in our collective hearts. When Cotillard steps before the microphone to
recreate Piaf’s ‘Non je ne regretted
rien’ her own translucence burrows deep into Piaf's soul. She is nothing
less than intense and uncanny. Indeed, Cotillard has since reflected that “As a teenager, I didn't want to be me. I
wanted to be many different people. Maybe I realized that they all lived inside
me and that if I managed to connect with them, they would become aspects of me.
I don't think you learn how to act. You learn how to use
your emotions and feelings.” This presence of mind, or perhaps genuine need to
escape from her circumstance, has yielded a rich and masterful portrait of one
of the 20th century’s truly irreplaceable singing talents.
Wisely
eschewing a literal chronology of Piaf’s troubled life, director Dahan instead reshapes
his non-linear narrative into defining moments that effectively etch out the
story. We are first introduced to 5 year old, Edith Giovanna Gassion (Manon
Chevallier); a child of the hard-knock Belleville district in Paris, crying her
eyes out as her mother, Annetta (Clotide Courau) sings for coins tossed in the
street. Assessing the toxicity of
this neglectful relationship, Piaf’s father, Louis-Alphonse Gassion (Jean-Paul
Rouve) removes Edith from her mother’s care. However, as he is about to be
shipped off to war, he leaves the child inside the whorehouse he used to
frequent. Mercifully, one of the working girls, Titine (Emmanuelle Seigner)
dotes on Edith, bonding with and rearing the child as her own.
Blinded by
keratitis between the ages of three and seven, Edith is sent to convalesce at
Saint Therese de Lisieux; the benevolent prostitutes pooling their monies to
pay for her treatments. At wars end, Louis returns to collect his daughter,
making her a part of his failed circus act. There, she begins to sing for her
supper on the streets as her mother had done before her. The film narrative
jumps ahead to Edith’s teenage years. Her first love, Albert (Dominique
Bettenfeld) proves a disreputable pimp, who takes most of Edith’s earnings as
remuneration for not selling her into prostitution. However, a reprieve comes
in the form of nightclub impresario, Louis Leplee (Gerard Depardieu). Impressed
with Edith’s virtuoso singing style, Louis offers the ingénue her first real
taste of showbiz. Rechristened Edith Piaf, the young chanteuse proves an
instant, if volatile, stage sensation – connecting with her audiences on an
emotional level.
However, the
mystery surrounding Leplee’s murder does much to tarnish Edith’s reputation.
She is suspected of being a wanton woman at best, and complicit in Leplee’s
murder at worst. Edith’s personal life is a shambles. She is nearly killed in a
car accident with lover, Charles Aznavour (Alban Casterman). Life-threatening
injuries sustained in the wreck necessitate the administration of morphine
injections that render Edith an addict. She travels to the United States under
the watchful eye of mentor/trainer, Bruno Coquatrix (Jean-Paul Muel), arriving
in New York City where she falls in love with married prizefighter, Marcel
Cerdan (Jean-Pierre Martins) – by all accounts, the one great love of her life.
Cerdan’s premature death in a plane crash sends Edith over the edge once again.
Although her first husband, Jacques Pills (Laurent Olmedo) vows to commit his
wife to a sanitarium for treatment, the cure is more painful than the illness
and never quite the success either.
La Vie en Rose travels a narratively tricky
path, excluding many momentous events from Piaf’s life, while merely hinting at
others: her second marriage to Greek hairdresser, Theo Sarapo; her French
Resistance activities during the war and her film career are never even
mentioned in this movie. Yet, in the final analysis, it doesn’t seem to matter.
The threads that have been woven into Isobella Sobelman’s screenplay provide
more than enough of a flavorful élan. What the movie managed to do
spectacularly well is to capture the essence of the individual without chaining
its own artistic integrity and freedom to express and explore to the
literalisms of it. This alone is an astounding achievement, in fact, void of
obvious cleverness and imbued with a more altruistic sincerity. Dahan gives us
Piaf as simply, perceptively and succinctly as 140 minutes of screen time will
allow. This is not a musical bio-pic, rather a finely honed and intricately
textured melodrama with portions of Piaf’s musical brilliance interpolated into
the artistic mélange as counterbalance and for dramatic effect. Although
original Piaf recordings were used for much of the film, four songs featured
herein are re-recordings, imperceptibly sung in the great lady’s style by
singer, Jil Aigrot.
Piaf died of
liver cancer on October 10, 1963 – France’s national treasure, whose funeral procession
stopped traffic cold down the congested streets of Paris. La Vie en Rose refreshingly chooses to conclude on a more whimsical
note of antithetical hope and promise, with Piaf peacefully lying on her death
bed, able to recall with deep satisfaction the performance she gave at the
Olympia; singing the rousing ‘Non je ne
regretted rien.’ In a film of many darkly lit, and even more darkly
purposed - if poignant – scenes, this finale creates an almost liberating
reflection on Piaf’s extraordinary life beyond the footlights. In the final
analysis, La Vie En Rose is a ‘must see’ motion picture experience.
TFI Video in
France is the only distributor to have made La Vie en Rose available in hi-def, under its original French
title, La Môme. The results are thrilling. Many will recall
when La Vie en Rose had its North
American release back in 2008 there were two competing DVD’s offered: a superior
anamorphic scan held under license and distributed by HBO, and an absolutely
abysmal, bizarrely non-anamorphic disc, made exclusively available in Canada
from Sony Home Entertainment (who usually know better than this!). This TFI
Video Blu-ray easily bests both of the aforementioned discs and is the much
preferred home video presentation. Presented in its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1, this
is a reference quality disc, destined to provide much viewing pleasure. Contrast, color fidelity, overall clarity and
fine detail excel. Colors are exquisitely rich and satisfying. La Vie en Rose is a very dark film, Tetsuo
Nagata’s cinematography utilizing natural light and dim gas and candlelight to
superb effect. This can sometimes create havoc with edge enhancement and macro-blocking.
But no, herein, the image is gorgeous, solid and supremely satisfying. Better
still, absolutely no age-related damage.
The 5.1 DTS audio
is a revelation, capturing all of the subtle nuances in the sound field design.
Wow! Please note: this disc is advertised as ‘region B’ locked when in reality it is Region Free and playable anywhere in the world. This Blu-ray does
come with a second disc of extras on DVD. That DVD is region B locked and will not play, unless, of course, you own a region free player. The really good
news; the Blu-ray is stocked with a ton of extras too and, if you already own
the HBO DVD from 2008, then you effectively possess the extras contained on
this second DVD. Alas, all of the extras herein are in French without the
benefit of English subs. But, the film itself contains an option to choose
English subtitles. Bottom line: La Vie
En Rose is exceptional film-making by any artistic standard one might wish
to ascribe. It is required viewing and now, for the first time, we have a home
video presentation worthy of the art Olivier Dahan and Marion Cotillard have
wrought. Very highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
4
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