Les Enfants du siècle (1999) - film review

In the early 1830s, Baroness Dudevant leaves her husband and decides to start a new life in Paris.  Adopting the name George Sand, she embarks on a career as a writer and feminist, shocking French bourgeois society with both her behaviour and her radical views.  She is drawn towards an equally prolific artistic genius, the poet Alfred de Musset and before long they are united in a stormy and passionate love affair.  The couple travel to Venice to seek inspiration for their next works, but the excursion is ill-fated from the start.  Musset’s addiction to drink and brothels proves stronger than his love for George, and when Musset falls ill, the feminist writer falls for the charms of a handsome Italian doctor...

Perhaps no one is better placed than Diane Kurys to make a film which explores a turbulent period in the life of one of France’s most controversial women writers, George Sand.   In her earlier works (notably her 1983 film Coup de foudre), Kurys has shown a particular affinity with the subject of romantic love from a female perspective, and her films are both alluring and convincing – sometimes even shocking, particularly for male spectators.  Les Enfants du siècle is possibly her biggest technical challenge to date – a lavish historical drama (with a runtime of well over two hours) and an inordinately complex central character to deal with.

The film is visually quite stunning – the cinematography is moody, sometimes achingly beautiful, sometimes intensely dramatic, and well-made sets and costumes lend the film authenticity and charm.  The acting is also of a high calibre, with both Juliette Binoche and Benoît Magimel showing their worth in two exceedingly demanding roles, respectively Sand and Musset.  Technically, this is perhaps Kurys’ most impressive film to date, but its scale and grandeur robs it – at least partly – of the intimacy and impact of her earlier, more modest productions.  As with many historical films of this kind, the human element of the story is somewhat buried beneath the film’s glossy presentation, with the result that, towards the end, the film feels very slow-moving and painfully empty.  Fortunately, Binoche’s convincing portrayal of a profound and vulnerable woman manages to hold our attention and whilst the film is not entirely satisfying, it does offer a moving insight into the life of an important French writer.

© James Travers 2003

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