Caroline chérie (1968) - film review

France, July, 1789.  Whilst a party of aristocrats are enjoying themselves in the Bois de Vincennes, the French Revolution is beginning to get underway.  At the insistence of her father, sixteen-year-old Caroline de Bièvre must marry the politician Georges Berthier, but she is in love with the younger, more handsome Gaston de Sallanches.  When she learns that her beloved Gaston has a mistress, Caroline marries Georges out of spite, just before the revolutionaries take control of Paris.  To escape the guillotine, Caroline takes flight and is soon caught up in a remarkable series of adventures.  But for how long can she postpone her appointment with Madame Guillotine...?

It would be interesting to know what Cécil Saint-Laurent made of this frivolous adaptation of his celebrated 1947 historical novel Caroline chérie.  A garish explosion of mid-sixties kitsch at its most uninhibited, the film is probably the closest that French cinema has ever got to simulating an acid trip.  Its use of colour is so raucous and inappropriately fearless that you almost need to wear dark glasses to avoid permanent damage to your retina.  Stylistically, the film could hardly be more different from the bland and stodgy 1951 version of Saint-Laurent’s novel directed by Richard Pottier.  But it is just so über-kitsch and flimsy that you need to be half-drunk or half-stoned to get your way through it.  Jacques Demy’s similarly themed Lady Oscar (1979) looks like a model of self-restraint compared with this eye-singeing cinematic monstrosity.

It is hard to believe that the film was directed by the fairly well regarded director Denys de La Patellière, who had previously helmed such sober works as Retour de manivelle (1957), Les Grandes familles (1958) and Un taxi pour Tobrouk (1960).  It is far easier to believe the film was a collaborative effort by Roger Vadim and Roger Corman, perhaps with Mario Bava taking charge of the art design and cinematography.  Released in 1968, an eventful year for France, the film certainly captures the mood of its time, but it now looks as unsightly and tacky as most interior décor of this epoch. 

Attractive as she is, France Anglade is a poor substitute for Brigitte Bardot and Michèle Mercier (who doubtless would have made the central character appear much less of an androgynous wimp) and the star supporting cast (which includes such unlikely names as Bernard Blier, Vittorio De Sica, Charles Aznavour and Gert Fröbe) is pretty well wasted.  The only thing to commend the film is the ballad that Aznavour sings to accompany the closing titles.  Caroline chérie has a certain kitsch charm, but watch it too often and you risk ending up in the mad house.  Mercier’s Angélique films provide a very welcome restorative after this gruesome excursion into bad taste.

© James Travers 2012

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