As the cool Mediterranean breeze wafts through the long summer afternoons, and the scent of saltwater hangs in the air, Bonjour Tristesse invites us into a world of quiet indulgence, timeless beauty, and simmering tension. In her feature debut, Canadian filmmaker Durga Chew-Bose brings Françoise Sagan’s 1954 coming-of-age novel to the big screen, this time with a more modern twist. While Bonjour Tristesse may not fully capture the thrilling emotional depth of its predecessors, it does succeed in capturing a distinct mood—one of languid afternoons, youthful recklessness, and the delicate balance between love, jealousy, and manipulation.
The Story: A Familiar Framework with a New Lens
The bones of Bonjour Tristesse remain largely the same as in its previous cinematic incarnations. The story centers on 18-year-old Cécile (Lily McInerny), who spends the summer in the south of France with her charming, but morally ambiguous, widower father, Raymond (Claes Bang), and his much younger girlfriend, Elsa (Naïlia Harzoune). Cécile’s life is made even more complicated by the arrival of Anne (Chloë Sevigny), her mother’s best friend, who has her own history with Raymond.
On the surface, the plot follows familiar ground—Cécile is the product of a tumultuous relationship between her parents, and her father’s roguish behavior shapes her perception of love and desire. However, Chew-Bose’s version of Bonjour Tristesse feels more introspective than its predecessors, as it focuses on the quieter moments of youth rather than the sharp, riveting emotional arcs of the characters. Instead of an immediate dive into tension and deceit, the film invites us to sink into the slow rhythms of life by the sea, where sunlight pools on the water, and time seems to stand still.
The Shift in Tone: Languid Beauty and a Modern Edge
While Otto Preminger’s 1958 adaptation of Bonjour Tristesse was notable for its early exploration of tension through flashbacks, Chew-Bose’s version takes a different approach. Rather than plunging the viewer into the thick of drama from the beginning, Chew-Bose allows us to luxuriate in the sun-dappled world of the French Riviera. This shift in tone is immediately felt as we follow Cécile and her father around the luxurious villa, basking in the golden hour glow and letting the gentle swaying of the sailboat lull us into a sense of ease.
McInerny’s portrayal of Cécile feels distinctly modern, more akin to the self-conscious teenagers of today than the carefree, impetuous youths of classic cinema. There’s an understated energy to her performance, one that conveys both boredom and obsession in equal measure. Cécile is neither the naïve young girl of Sagan’s novel nor the pixyish impetuousness of Jean Seberg in Preminger’s version. Instead, McInerny gives us a character who feels like a more typical modern teen, caught somewhere between wanting everything and having no idea what she truly wants.
This contrast between Cécile and her father’s relationship, and that of its previous adaptations, plays a significant role in Chew-Bose’s interpretation. In previous versions, the relationship between Cécile and Raymond was uncomfortably close, tinged with a sense of impropriety and suppressed desire. However, in this version, their relationship is much more normal, without the skeevy edge that made their connection unsettling. This shift, however, comes at a cost: while it removes the tension that once simmered between father and daughter, it also dulls the film’s sense of foreboding and instability. The movie loses a bit of its emotional urgency, making the eventual conflict feel almost out of place.
The film’s cinematography, handled by Maximilian Pittner, excels at capturing the sumptuous atmosphere of this sun-soaked world. With each shot, Chew-Bose and Pittner create a sense of sensory overload, inviting us to experience the sights, sounds, and even the smells of this idyllic location. The deep blues of the water, the pale warmth of the limestone villa, and the rustling of trees in the breeze all create a world that feels dreamlike in its beauty. The characters often appear alone, framed in such a way that emphasizes their isolation in this seemingly perfect environment. Whether they’re playing solitaire on the porch, listening to vinyl records, or lounging by the pool, their actions carry a sense of timelessness. Only the occasional appearance of an iPhone reminds us that this story takes place in the present day.
Chloë Sevigny’s Anne: Miscast, But Intriguing
The arrival of Anne (Chloë Sevigny), a Parisian fashion designer and Raymond’s former lover, is meant to shake things up and add the spark of conflict that will eventually fuel the movie’s more tense moments. However, this arrival is treated with such a light touch that the anticipated drama never truly materializes. Sevigny, despite her star power, feels strangely out of place in the role of Anne. The character, who is supposed to be glamorous and self-assured, comes across as too dour and subdued, which makes the dynamic between her and Raymond seem underwhelming. There’s little palpable chemistry between the two, and the tension between Anne and Cécile, which is meant to be one of the film’s key emotional threads, doesn’t develop in a way that feels satisfying.
In a movie that thrives on subtlety, Sevigny’s performance feels like an anomaly—her dour expression often clashing with the carefree beauty of the surroundings. Rather than creating an intriguing power dynamic between the characters, Sevigny’s Anne is relegated to a more passive role. There’s an attempt to explore the complexities of the three women’s interactions—Cécile, Elsa, and Anne—but the exchanges are sometimes too muted to generate any real emotional impact. This miscasting is unfortunate because it prevents the film from delving into the layers of jealousy and manipulation that should be at the heart of the narrative.
The Film’s Emotional Arc: Lacking the Edge of its Predecessors
One of the most significant drawbacks of Bonjour Tristesse is the lack of an emotional payoff. The slow-building tension between the characters should ultimately culminate in a dramatic shift in Cécile’s mental state, but this transition feels unearned and abrupt. While Cécile’s inner turmoil is hinted at throughout the film, her eventual breakdown comes out of nowhere, as if Chew-Bose suddenly remembers that the movie needs to have a crisis. This narrative misstep undermines the emotional weight of the final act and leaves the film feeling like a beautiful but incomplete meditation on youth and desire.
That said, there are still moments of brilliance. Some of the most interesting exchanges occur between Cécile and Anne, where the two women—one an innocent teen and the other a more worldly adult—attempt to navigate the complexities of their relationships with Raymond. These interactions hint at the potential for something deeper, a genuine exploration of the ways in which women shape each other’s lives. But unfortunately, these moments are often too fleeting to have a lasting impact on the audience.
Visual Mastery and Stylish Cool
Despite its narrative shortcomings, Bonjour Tristesse is undeniably a feast for the eyes. The film’s aesthetic is its strongest asset, drawing heavily from retro-inspired fashion, cars, and interiors to evoke the luxurious world of French high society. Costume designer Miyako Bellizzi deserves credit for her role in bringing the world of the French Riviera to life—her impeccable styling captures the cool, effortlessly chic vibe of the era. The wardrobe choices for Cécile, Elsa, and Anne contribute to their personalities, with each outfit speaking volumes about who these women are, or rather, who they want to be.
While the plot may lack the edge of its predecessors, the atmosphere of Bonjour Tristesse remains intoxicating. It’s a place you’d love to visit—a perfect snapshot of a summer where the days stretch on forever, and nothing ever feels urgent or real. But, much like the characters in the film, once the sun sets, you’ll find that the magic begins to fade, leaving behind only the faintest trace of the mood that once enveloped you.
Conclusion: A Gorgeous but Languorous Take on a Timeless Classic
Ultimately, Bonjour Tristesse is a film of quiet contradictions. It is visually stunning and drenched in beauty, yet emotionally inert and strangely listless. Chew-Bose’s interpretation of Sagan’s classic novel may not have the same fire as its predecessors, but it succeeds in creating a mood that lingers in the mind. It’s a film about youth, desire, and the complexity of relationships, but one that never quite follows through on its potential. It’s the perfect movie for an afternoon of idle contemplation, though you may leave feeling like the lingering warmth of the day has faded before you could fully grasp it.
In the end, Bonjour Tristesse may be best appreciated not as a story, but as an experience—a brief, beautiful escape into a world that exists more in memory than reality. A world you might want to visit but not necessarily stay in forever.
