Last
year, Jalil Lespert’s Saint Laurent biopic was first out of gate, simply but
aptly titled Yves Saint Laurent. Now,
Bertrand Bonello follows with the even more basically titled Saint Laurent. Evidently, the next
filmmaker who tries his hand at the celebrated fashion designer’s story will
have to call it Laurent, or maybe the
evocative YSL. Regardless, the second
duly follows the first, boasting a more famous French cast but lacking the
blessing of YSL’s longtime partner, Pierre Bergé. Break your Mondrian dress out
of mothballs for the American release of Bonello’s Saint Laurent (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.
For
the backstory, refer to Lespert. Bonello picks the film up in 1967 and just runs
with the era’s excesses. Saint Laurent is poised to explode globally and Bergé,
his partner (both in love and business) will make the deals to fully exploit
his notoriety. Unfortunately, as the chemically infused parties blur into each
other, Saint Laurent becomes increasingly preoccupied with the sexual charms of
model Jacques De Bascher. From time to time, Bergé will even create a bit of a
scene, but he can usually get the faithless designer to come home whenever he buys
a new piece for their remarkable art collection.
That
is kind of it. Bonello’s film is a rather static portrait that luxuriates in
the hedonistic surface of YSL’s life and never digs into the iconic figures’
inner workings. To judge solely from the film, it is absolutely baffling how an
uptight square like Bergé and a drug-soused sex addict like Saint Laurent could
ever be a couple. There is no explanation of their relationship, except for an
admittedly brilliant scene of them admiring a newly acquired painting. Bonello’s
take on Saint Laurent is entirely an example of style over substance, but what
dazzling style it is.
Although
Saint Laurent spends most of the film lounging on a couch, Bonello’s camera
darts and pans restlessly, soaking up the debauched nightlife. He makes inspired
use of split screens, evoking a fashion magazine’s layout. Frankly, this is
probably the most visually dynamic film of the year—and that counts for a lot.
Arguably,
the cast-members are just accessories
to the ensemble Bonello creates. Gaspard Ulliel’s Saint Laurent is a lifeless
cipher who is rather unpleasant to spend time with. Helmut Berger’s third act
appearance as the designer in 1989 adds little depth, serving mainly as a
curtain call. Jérémie Renier conveys some of the maturity and determination of Bergé,
but the film stacks the deck against him, largely portraying him a jealous
lover. Adding color if not substance, Louis Garrel out-preens Maria Callas as
De Bascher, while model Aymeline Valade exhibits enough snap and verve as model
Betty Catroux to suggest she might have potential in a film with actual human
interaction.
