Colette
Colette is a film with a tenuous grasp on a nebulous frontier of information, aiming to streamline a larger-than-life memoir into a jumpy, grand, and ultimately confusing narrative. It takes viewers on a twisting, disjointed ride while simultaneously refusing to strap them in at any point. It is not, however, a “bad” movie. In a sense, it’s akin to the Leaning Tower of Pisa: its many redeeming qualities almost make it easy to ignore its inadequate foundation, but you’re still stuck with the inexplicable anxiety that its grand exterior could come crashing down at any minute.
The saving grace of this film is the importance of its subject matter. The movie’s namesake, Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, was a prominent 20th century French writer who popularized the notion of the young, independent Western woman and earned many accolades during her years of maturity, including a nomination for the Nobel Prize in Literature. This film doesn’t dabble in Colette’s plateau years; instead, it attacks the inflection point of her life, during which she transitions from a shy and insecure girl to a bold and proud woman. Her tale is especially important in the era of #MeToo, as Colette is the perfect embodiment of the message that women should not stop until their voices are heard. Not unlike today, Colette grew up in an age when women were brashly proclaimed to be man’s inferior. However, despite every obstacle stemming from her sex — her inability to marry without a dowry, publish under her own name, and keep her husband from engaging in adultery — she was a rebellious woman, a walking contradiction to the status quo. Keira Knightley truly shines in this regard, as she excellently portrays a vastly multifaceted character: a fearless writer whose sharp tongue and mischievous eyes belie her insecurities and dangerously self-destructive tendencies. Although Colette is nowhere near a perfect woman, she stands out in fascinating ways.
Where the film truly distinguishes itself from every token Austen-esque tale of female empowerment is in its exploration of sexuality. The film is distinctly woke, almost outspokenly so. However, this brazenness is in large part due to the subject matter, as even the famous Colette novels were popular due to the main character’s androgynous sexuality. Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette herself was known for her sexual fluidity, due to her and her husband pursuing an (admittedly coercion-induced) open relationship in which she engaged in many female liaisons. The director perfectly allows viewers to witness this sexual exploration through providing smooth, narratively cohesive transitions into every sex scene. There is no grand camera movement, mood lighting, or overdone acting. No judgement is passed through the film’s narrative or filming style over the morality of her actions. We are simply allowed a window into Colette’s trysts and room to form our own opinions. Although many of the film’s characters pass judgement on Sidonie-Gabrielle’s lifestyle, only the viewers are privy to the whole story.
As is the case with many onscreen same-sex relationships, however, the movie refuses to address the problematic nature of male fetishization, almost allowing Colette’s husband a free ticket to pry into her sex life. This point stuck out sorely as a quiet blip amongst the sea of vehement and outspoken rebellions that Colette makes against her husband’s bigotry. It felt odd that even though Colette jumps to defend the gender identity of one of her partners, she is uncharacteristically silent at her husband’s ecstasy regarding her female lovers. Although disappointing, this was to be expected, as a single movie cannot retroactively replicate today’s environment on gender and sexuality.
The true problematic nature of Colette, however, arises at the midpoint, when the plot takes on a fast-paced, aimless exploration without any true anchor to what initially propelled it. At first, it is assumed that each new Colette novel and their subsequent societal repercussions are the main narrative drivers. Next, the focus shifts to her many lovers and we frantically jump from tryst to tryst. Then, a spotlight is shined on the development and disintegration of her polarizing public persona. Finally, the plot becomes a mashup of all three, forcing the viewer to dive into the murky and unclear depths of Colette’s belle epoch. The movie pulls off this lack of precision solely through how vastly interesting each subplot is. Although the common consensus after watching the movie is, “I’m unable to describe what I just saw,” it is quickly followed up with, “but it was really cool.” In fact, the sheer number of fascinating directions to take with Colette’s story is probably why the film chose to delve into all of them — the narrative appears like a race to dip into as many facets of Colette’s life as possible in two hours. Despite the numerous problems that arise with this approach, Colette is admittedly one of the most successful films of its aimless kind.
The final touches that truly seal together this confusing but fascinating package is the movie’s commitment to the grandeur of Paris. Although this can be deliberately overdone a la Midnight in Paris, Colette’s depiction of France appears more genuine. Prior to her development, Colette’s character even initially begs the question that we all have when watching French-related film: Are the French always this extra? The film then answers this question through Colette’s own rise as a celebrity: a bold and resounding yes. However, we are also taken along the journey in her point of view to eventually understand why Paris is such a disingenuous city. We see the ostentatious allure and ultimately insidious nature of celebrity idolatry and hunger for fame. Yet, we are also left with the sudden desire to be in the spotlight, to display our minds and bodies as boldly as Colette does. The conflicting emotions that the film evokes accomplish an important feat: the film allows us to empathize deeply with the motivations for Colette’s negative life decisions while cementing the idea that she was as much a perpetuator as she was a victim of her misfortunes. Even though we might not want to follow in her footsteps, we can all agree that her life was a wild ride.
Ultimately, there is much to take away from Colette, but only when we focus on the trees instead of the forest. Although it might not be an Oscar-worthy biopic, it’s interesting enough to watch with an open and forgiving mind.
