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Filled with drama, intrigue and personal vulnerability.  With movies like Dangerous Liaisons, The Grifters and The Queen under his belt, you’d think this was a perfect fit for Stephen Frears.  So what went wrong?

Chéri is a film adaptation of the novel written by Sidonie-Gabrielle Collette (pen name – Collette). It tells the story of a love shared between a young man and an older woman set in 1920’s France.  From what I hear, the book is quite moving, filled with drama, intrigue and personal vulnerability.  With movies like Dangerous Liaisons, The Grifters and The Queen under his belt, you’d think this was a perfect fit for Stephen Frears.  So what went wrong?

The story begins with a narrator recounting the exploits of notable courtesans of the time.  Not unlike running down the stats on the back of a baseball card, this commentary ultimately does little to set the tone and, instead, succeeds in deceiving the audience with its quirky pacing and imagery. 
The narration also serves as our introduction to Léa de Lonval (played by Michelle Pfeiffer), a retired courtesan turned socialite who is beginning to notice the wear of her 49 years in her reflection.  Léa spends most of her time now drinking tea, gossiping and reminiscing about the good old days with her former “colleagues” at the home of Madame Charlotte Peloux (Kathy Bates) - once her fiercest rival.

Enter: Fred Peloux.  The self-centered, womanizing son of Charlotte who was nicknamed “Chéri” by Léa when he was a small child (played by Rupert Friend).  Fred has grown tired of the city life and is swept away to the country by de Lonval.  The already present sexual attraction between the two turns into emotional attachment as a seasonal holiday becomes a 6 year relationship.  This relationship is eventually ended, however, when Charlotte arranges for her son to be married to Edmée (Felicity Jones), the young daughter of another retired courtesan.  Léa, now 55 and even MORE sensitive about her age, must put up a strong front as she deals with the loss of her love while Fred, trying to recover from his own loss, must leave the days of spoiled childhood behind and become a man.

It’s a tragedy, folks. 

And I’m not only talking about the story.  I’m talking about the actual chore of watching the movie.  Sure, it was pretty to look at thanks to cinematographer Darius Khondji but almost every performance was wooden and sterile.  The only actor to really stand out was Felicity Jones as Edmée.  The relationship between Pfeiffer and Friend lacked any real chemistry, so when they are forced to split up, you never get a real sense of that love that they couldn’t live without.  Instead, it just comes off like these were simply two people that learned to tolerate each other.  And now that it’s over Léa is bummed she won’t find a young boy toy who will be interested in an older woman and Fred won’t find a woman who will take care of him like he is still a helpless babe.  The only love portrayed in this film is the love each character has for him or herself.

The whole experience felt less like one ongoing story and more like a series of clunky, disjointed scenes awkwardly staged (in either a bedroom or a garden tea party) with about as much style as a junior high production of Our Town.  And while I love Alexandre Desplat’s music, his score in this film felt completely out of place at times and usually failed to set the proper tone for the scene.

I love an epic romance as much as the next guy.  All I ask is that you make me believe and care about the characters.  Unfortunately, this proves too much to ask from Chéri.

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