Bonjour Tristesse

As I write this, it's the weekend of Thunderbolts*, which will ring in the start of the summer blockbuster season. If you know anything about my personal taste, as well as my most recent foray into the MCU, my search for counterprogramming should come as no surprise. Unfortunately for me, there wasn't much available at my local theater. Of the holdovers which caught my interest, most had one or two showtimes too early in the day for me to attend. The most exciting new release, The Surfer, I got to see back in March at BUFF (it wasn't very good, which is why I haven't said much about it). That brought me to Bonjour Tristesse, a film I hadn't heard anything about. But upon learning it featured Chloë Sevigny, and that there was an extra layer to the seemingly low-key summer drama, I knew I had to catch it.

It's been quite a while since I've seen such a film in theaters. Indie dramas are already a rarity, as their showtimes nearby are often limited, when they get screened at all. But this is a specific sub-type with little overt conflict or drama or tension. The movie simply presents you with its characters, and lets their relationships play out with the ups and downs of normal, relatable, recognizable life. They're quiet, they feature a minimal but effective score, and the emotional flare-ups are carefully doled out to increase their impact. They're character studies, but the people are so much like us in spirit that they might as well be us. The closest recent comparison I can think of is Janet Planet, but even that centers the idea that it's difficult being a child, an idea which permeates every bit of its plot. Despite being reasonably classified as a coming-of-age film, Bonjour Tristesse has no such hang up.

Instead, we're just spending time with Cécile (Lily McInerny) and her father Ray (Claes Bang) at their villa on the French Riviera in mid-summer. Both of them revel in their summer flings, Cyril (Aliocha Schneider) and Elsa (Nailia Harzoune), respectively. We float through the days with them, building the close bond between father and daughter, seeing how happy and at ease Ray and Elsa are together, and listening in on the deep and meaningful conversations between Cécile and Elsa, as the worldly woman imparts her wisdom on the eighteen-year-old. The arrival of Ray's old friend Ann (Sevigny) is an added complication, leading to the slow accumulation of interactions which will amount to the films "climax", if you can call it that. Her presence leads to an immediate change in the atmosphere, but the altering of character relationships takes more time to develop. We're forced to experience it as Cécile does, as she first embraces denial, then attempts to come to grips with it as best she can.

A film like this lives and dies with its dialog, so it's quite fortunate that writer-director Durga Chew-Bose's script is dense and playful and considered and deep. Each character is instantly recognizable by their manner of speech, by the turns of phrase they employ, and the depth of meaning behind them. They're defined by their approach to interacting with Cécile. Ray is laid back and seemingly uninterested in parenting, scared of pushing her away. Ann is very academic, intent on the importance of schoolwork and the discipline that Ray shuns. And Elsa is a playful free-spirit like Ray, treating her like a little sister, far more willing to drop into a mature and self-reflective conversation about what it means to be a woman.

It's here that Bonjour Tristesse distinguishes itself from the superficially similar yet inevitably self-centered mumblecore movement, or even from hollow imitation of the style à la Janet Planet. While what the characters say and experience is rooted in their lives, and is framed as applicable to them, the movie is seeking to pass on deeper thoughts about existing in the world to its audience. The performers engage with each other in a way that feels very natural, lending their thoughts that much more power: they seem to flow from that character's mind, not Chew-Bose's pen. You never for a moment doubt they live full lives off-screen, that you're catching a mere glimpse of their extensive explorations, which provides a strong foundation that makes us more receptive to their assertions.

Even young Cécile has a deep inner life, one she often expresses through body language rather than words. She's not afraid to push back, recoiling at the idea of carrying her father's bad news to Elsa, and throwing her textbooks in thee garbage. She wants so desperately to be at home in the adult world, but confides in Elsa that her father's dinner party was terminally boring. Before the end of the summer, her heart will bear the weight of grave responsibility, forcing her to grow up in an instant, ready or not.

It feels appropriate that this wonderful film should be Chew-Bose's debut, as the eponymous novel it's based on was published when its author, Françoise Sagan, was only eighteen. While I haven't read the novel, nor seen Otto Preminger's 1958 adaptation, you can feel the fingerprints of a more mature soul all over it. Yet, by remaining firmly grounded in the viewpoint of a teenager, Chew-Bose presents an outsider's view of her own ideas, approaching them skeptically without putting too fine a point on it. It's a delicate dance, one she pulls off wonderfully.

The pace of the film is unlike most that hit American theaters, Eephus notwithstanding. It takes its time at all moments, ever so slowly building to the ending that it always had to have. It will not be rushed, not for you, not for it's characters, not for anyone. If you can dial into that wavelength, if you can relax and let it wash over you, you're in for a rewarding one-hundred minutes.