Film: Gainsbourg (Vie heroique)

I don't really have the most time to chat about this one, but then that shouldn't be much of an issue given my lack of intelligence (or particular interest I might add) in Serge Gainsbourg or his music. HOWEVER, I'm not reviewing an album here am I...

This colourful and enigmatic new biopic of the controversial french musician most famous for his Brigitte Bardot-inspired, multi-million selling single 'Je t'aime...moi non plus' and for his hard-smoking, hard-drinking playboy lifestyle, is directed, as well as adapted from his own graphic novel, by artist Joann Sfar, and with a strange mix of character study, luxurious erotica and lucid poetic fantasy. Like Gainsbourg himself, Sfar is a French-born Jew and reads much into the influence on the singer's emotional, artistic and mental development of the Nazi occupation of his childhood. As a child, Serge is told he is ugly, and this idea of his embarrassing "mug" leads him to develop a complex that then manifests itself as two hallucinatory alter-egos, one a portly bollock-shaped thing, and the other a gangly, bone-fingered humanoid with a long snout and big ears that wouldn't look out of place in Pan's Labyrinth.

With his imaginary friends in tow, the young Gainsbourg struts, peeps and flirts with women into his mature life, when the child actor is replaced by the star of the film (and be star I really do mean star), Eric Elmosnino. From here on in, the story focuses on Gainsbourg the charmer and the lover rather than Gainsbourg the artist or Gainsbourg the cultural icon. For this it benefits as an intriguing artistic project, but deteriorates as a film.


As Gainsbourg's career slowly builds, and his song-writing becomes more and more known, the singer begins to attract female attention from all angles, and he confidently beds successfully singers and actresses at wim. From Juliette Greco, to Brigitte Bardot, to Jane Birkin and finally the almost unmentioned Bambou, his periodical conquests form the base of the film's structure and are relied upon to bring much of its emotional heft (of which there is little, so "cool" and cold is Gainsbourg). All this is then interspersed with the surreal interactions that Serge has with the lankier and more aggressive of his two alter-egos. In this we see a more interesting side to both Gainsbourg's personality and Sfar's creative ability. There is a very dark, very odd nature to the hallucinatory moments, but Elmosnino's brilliantly accurate performance contrasts them with Gainsbourg's droll and effortless deadpan. Here was where I began to feel a sort of magic and intrigue that I had expected after the film's opening twenty minutes or so.

Typically though, the rest of the film, despite an award-worthy turn from Elmosnino that possesses all of the physical and aural precision in replica that biopic acting has come to require in recent times, fails to balance this fantastical intrigue with any real human drama, but is a valiant effort in subverting the music biopic. Comparable more to the energetic Ian Dury biopic 'Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll' or the insane 'Bronson' than a stricter, more serious 'Ray' or 'Walk The Line', it is an imagination and enjoyment of the life of an iconic artist, but unfortunately lacks the heart or the humour to really capture a wide audience. What's more, the success of this film relies heavily on the viewer either being a follower of Serge Gainsbourg's life and music, or merely being dazzled by a series of half-dressed and unbearably sexy women strewn around and across the singer's body.

And so Gainsbourg was, for me, much like the singer's life and music itself, trying hard to rebel and subvert the norm, but ultimately just a little dull.