by Cookie N Screen
Yawn. It’s another week and yet another biopic has landed in our laps as though we weren’t over saturated with them enough. If it isn’t some damaged famed musician, it’s some damaged famed actor. If it isn’t some damaged famed actor, it’s some damaged famed artist. And if it isn’t some damaged famed artist, it’s some damaged famed fashion designer. All added with an extra dose of drugs, alcoholism and infidelity. Biopics have become somewhat formulaic that if I said there was a French biopic about Yves Saint Laurent, a damaged famed fashion designer, you could tell me exactly what happens, when and why.
Yawn. It’s another week and yet another biopic has landed in our laps as though we weren’t over saturated with them enough. If it isn’t some damaged famed musician, it’s some damaged famed actor. If it isn’t some damaged famed actor, it’s some damaged famed artist. And if it isn’t some damaged famed artist, it’s some damaged famed fashion designer. All added with an extra dose of drugs, alcoholism and infidelity. Biopics have become somewhat formulaic that if I said there was a French biopic about Yves Saint Laurent, a damaged famed fashion designer, you could tell me exactly what happens, when and why.
Coming from French director, Jalil Lespert (the director of the phenomenal Human Resources and Tell No One) Yves Saint Laurent is the subpar and quite frankly dull telling of genius designer Yves Saint Laurent. At a young age of 21, Saint Laurent is all of a sudden thrust into a powerful position overseeing the legendary Paris Fashion house of Christian Dior, now recently deceased. From that, he creates an elitist career, anointing the richest with couture clothing. Adorned with a mass of fans and admirers, Saint Laurent finds amongst them, his love of his life, Pierre Berge and the two soon take over the world of high fashion.
There is nothing outrageously spectacular about this film. Unfortunately what Lespert fails to add to the decadence of fashion designing and the array of dazzling clothes is a soul for audiences to latch upon. It’s disappointing because the film becomes everything that people dislike or wrongly perceive about fashion and designers. It lacks a heart, just an abundance of snobbery and decadence that not only makes the lead character highly unlikeable but the flat and empty atmosphere also means the issues he goes through do not appeal to any attention what so ever.
There is nothing outrageously spectacular about this film. Unfortunately what Lespert fails to add to the decadence of fashion designing and the array of dazzling clothes is a soul for audiences to latch upon. It’s disappointing because the film becomes everything that people dislike or wrongly perceive about fashion and designers. It lacks a heart, just an abundance of snobbery and decadence that not only makes the lead character highly unlikeable but the flat and empty atmosphere also means the issues he goes through do not appeal to any attention what so ever.
It’s not as though the acting is bad either. Tackling the spirit of Yves Saint Laurent is Gaspard Ulliel whose prior film credits included portraying a younger version of Hannibal Lecter in Hannibal Rising (I’m saying nothing.) He tackles the emotions, the dialogue and the problems with ease, giving the character some sort of humanity with the expressions and sorrow at times. His screen partner Jeremie Reiner also adds to the flair of acting talent perforating through the fabrics, the riches and the otherwise abandoned atmosphere. It’s a waste of genuine talent.
Yves Saint Laurent thinks of itself as a high end catwalk model when it rather resembles that of a shopping centre dummy. It may be great to hang something pretty on, it almost resembles a human but at the film’s core, there is plastic and nothing else. Folly to its own narcissisms, it holds no grounds to keep you watching to the end. There is barely any enthrallment. It’s hard to string any more sentences along about this one. If you are a fan of fashion, it’s worth a punt to admire the clothing. That is where its audience ends. For now, Yves Saint Laurent is easily forgettable.
Yves Saint Laurent thinks of itself as a high end catwalk model when it rather resembles that of a shopping centre dummy. It may be great to hang something pretty on, it almost resembles a human but at the film’s core, there is plastic and nothing else. Folly to its own narcissisms, it holds no grounds to keep you watching to the end. There is barely any enthrallment. It’s hard to string any more sentences along about this one. If you are a fan of fashion, it’s worth a punt to admire the clothing. That is where its audience ends. For now, Yves Saint Laurent is easily forgettable.
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