Saint Laurent

Gaspard Ulliel as Saint Laurent

Bertrand Bonello's Saint Laurent provided me with an ultimately frustrating viewing experience. Mostly focused on the glory years of the designer between 1967 and 1976, Saint Laurent hops back and forth through time telling the all too familiar story of a visionary who excels at his work, but is unable to forge a meaningful personal life. The film bogs down in endless party and disco sequences that artfully portray the ennui of the designer's existence, but drain the life out of the narrative. At least thirty minutes could have been lopped off the 150 minute running time. Jeremie Renier and Louis Garrel are effective as the men in Laurent's life, but Gaspard Ulliel projects only the narcissism and not the genius of the title character. Lea Seydoux and Aymeline Valade, as Laurent's muses, have little to do but pose like disco dollies in the numerous party sequences.

What's frustrating about this film is that occasional sequences have a bite and snap to them. The scenes in Laurent's atelier do give us some insight towards his relationships, or lack thereof, with his coworkers. A scene of Renier alternately browbeating and stroking executives of Laurent's holding company provides a welcome look at the hard nosed business practices behind the frilly façade of fashion. Two veterans of the cinema get a last hurrah. Dominique Sanda appears in one scene as Laurent's mere and creates an impression that evaporates amidst the film's torpor. Helmut Berger has a few kicky scenes as the older Laurent. He even gets to view his younger self on television chewing the scenery in The Damned. Unlike that ghastly performance, Berger delivers notes of rueful intelligence here. Too little, too late. Tant pis. Saint Laurent has run out of energy and inspiration by the time Berger appears. A handsome, well crafted and fitfully entertaining film, Saint Laurent is a missed opportunity.