Film Review: Colette (2018)
The story of Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette should have more punch than it’s given in Wash Westmoreland’s film. It almost gets there but, in the end, falls short of the mark. Colette is well made and well acted, but it’s basic. There’s plenty of room within the story for some real in-your-face audacity and societal comment and confrontation, but it’s left flat and mostly cold. It’s an intriguing tale, if a bit cursory, as biopics tend to be, but only it scratches the surface of its subject matter and the capabilities of an apt filmmaker.
Colette centers on the tumultuous relationship between writer and hedonist Henry Gauthier-Villars (who went by the pen name “Willy”, played by Dominic West) and his wife, the titular Colette (Keira Knightley). Willy became famous in the early 20th century for a series of books about a young country girl who became the toast of the Parisian art and bohemian scenes. Her name was Claudine, and Willy’s books were a huge success. There was only one problem – he didn’t write them. Colette did. The ensuing struggle to break free from her husband’s shadow and make her own independent mark on the world is the focus of the film – and one of its biggest shortcomings.
Colette’s fight for artistic independence is valid, but too much of the movie is about Willy when it should be a deeper exploration of the artist herself. Most of her life – and most of her most success – came after her divorce. Her later life is relegated to explainer cards just before the credits roll. Furthermore, if the focus must be on the years she spent with Willy, a better critique of the societal roles of women and their contributions to art and culture is in order. While not patriarchal in any sense, Colette isn’t as confrontational as it should be. Gender politics and LGBTQ themes are explored (especially trans and lesbian subjects), but in a playful, almost “Oh, look at those unusual people over there” sort of way. Visibility is important, but in today’s climate, bold, undeniable statements are better.
Westmoreland’s direction also bogs the story down. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, but there’s nothing that sets it apart either. It’s paint-by-number, nothing more. Again, bold statements, please. I rather liked Still Alice from 2014, but that film had a Terms of Endearment-style melodrama and an Oscar-winning performance from Julianne Moore. Colette has neither (although the cast is quite good). While it doesn’t exactly plod along, it never wows either. It’s underwhelming, which unfortunately makes it forgettable.
I do like Knightley and West. Their chemistry is believable and their disdain and contempt for each other is at times the best part of the film. Their real-life counterparts had a complicated relationship and watching Colette come to her senses about her libertine husband, and herself is entertaining. What’s interesting is that Willy (and West’s portrayal of him) never changes during the film. Only Colette’s gradual transformation reveals how much of a pig he’s been all along. The two leads are worthy and capable of telling this story (and so is the director), I only wish everyone involved had told it with some more nuance and daring.
