La Vie en Rose

Some performances are so instantly memorable, so transformative and awe-inspiring that they simply leave the viewer speechless. Such is the case with Marion Cotillard’s extraordinary performance as Edith Piaf in LA VIE EN ROSE. She completely transcends everything else, giving a flawless portrayal in an otherwise incredibly flawed film. Whenever one of director Olivier Dahan’s creative decisions goes awry (and there are many) Cotillard comes in with extreme finesse and confidence, saving the whole film from disaster with a single pained stare or clever nod of the head.

The film spans nearly all of Piaf’s extraordinary life, starting from her days as a child being raised by prostitutes and moving to her death in 1963. The film is chock full of information, throwing a new twist in her life every few minutes. As a result, even though the film is 140 minutes, sometimes we are only given a glimpse into her life, rather than completely understanding it. (It is also a tragedy that her astounding contributions during the occupation in WWII were completely omitted.) But the sense of pain and loss that haunted her life and make her singing unforgettable are more than amply illustrated; in the sequences chronicling her later years, our hearts break for every pained step she takes.

The film is undermined by Dahan’s insistence on staying safely outside the norm. He employs a dizzying sense of chronology, flashing back and forth between time periods with no rhyme or reason. At times, only Piaf’s style of dress and look indicate where in her life the action is set. He also employs several highly theatrical techniques that add a level of higher realism to the piece; a scene where fire embers give voice as an angel, a sequence of Piaf wandering around her home in devastation, only to walk through a door and onto a stage and a curious montage of Piaf’s childhood blindness set to one of her cheeriest songs are only a few examples. Piaf’s first public performance at a music hall is told only through images, a risky feat that only is successful due to Cotillard’s unshakable presence. All these attempts are artistic with a capital “A”; they become distracting and turn the film itself into quite a mess. None of the other characters are given much of an opportunity to make an impression, most of them becoming a sea of faces under varying amounts of age make-up.

But still, Cotillard is the glue that holds the mess together. Her performance is a truly astounding experience. Even the random time-jumps serve their purpose here; the juxtaposition between the broken, dying Piaf, hunched over and wrinkled, and the young, energetic girl with an eager smile and springing step demonstrate her complete immersion in the role and the remarkable transformation she goes through in the film. She is completely unrecognizable as the singer, a small and diminutive presence throughout. She is completely committed in every frame, becoming a powerful force that the viewer cannot help but attach to.

Much is said about imitation whenever a new biopic is released, but Cotillard’s performance here is far more refined, far more transformative and committed than any of the performances given by her contemporaries. She has delivered the performance of a lifetime. I do not want to be the person who cries, “this woman deserves an OSCAR!!”, but if Cotillard is not remembered come awards time, the Academy should hang their heads in shame. Marion Cotillard has given us something spectacular; she has risen above the weaknesses of a mediocre film and will be remembered for years to come. The film itself is far from perfect, but the strength of her portrayal alone serves as a perfect tribute to a woman who poured out her pain and suffering whenever she performed. Thanks to Cotillard, we know understand how much pain there was.

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