User Reviews

COCO CHANEL & IGOR STRAVINSKY is a sumptuously beautiful film to watch - all artsy art nouveau decor, almost devoid of conversation, with captiating portrayals of two of the 20th century's most creative talents - Coco and Igor - played with distant but memorable acting by Anna Mouglalis and Mads Mikkelsen. And there is enough of the core star (Stravinsky's 'Le sacre du printemps') of the 'biography' to make it musically stable. But the problem with this otherwise tasty peak into the lives of Coco and Igor is the lack of accuracy of fact. Perhaps that is what writers Chris Greenhalgh, Carlo De Boutiny, writer/director Jan Kounen had in mind: drop a few elements of fact, mix those with a huge dollop of imagination and create a moment of lust and frustration that usually accompanies the public and private lives of stars. Perhaps in their eyes, fiction is stranger than fact.

What we do know is that prior to the May 29, 1913, at the Théatre des Champs-Elysées in Paris scandalous premiere of 'Le sacre du printemps' Igor Stravinsky (Mads Mikkelsen) was a very successful composer of such favorites as 'The Firebird' and 'Petrouska' and before his premiere of 'Le sacre' was presented by the Ballet Russes under the direction of Diagilev (Grigori Manukov) with choreography by the notorious Vaslav Nijinsky (Marek Kossakowski in a very bland portrayal): Stravinsky would later write in his autobiography of the process of working with Nijinsky on the choreography, stating that "the poor boy knew nothing of music" and that Nijinsky "had been saddled with a task beyond his capacity." In the audience is the icy Coco Chanel (Anna Mouglalis) who, still grieving for her deceased lover Boy Patel (Anatole Taubman), connects with the primitive passions of the production. The film then cuts to 1920 with Stravinsky and his four children and tuberculous wife Katerina (Yelena Morozova) barely existing in Paris when Diaghilev introduces Stravinsky to the wealthy patron Coco Chanel who invites the poverty stricken Stravinsky family to stay in her lavish villa outside Paris where Stravinsky composes while Katerina copies her husband's music and Coco keeps her successful Parisian business and seeks out her famous perfume Chanel No. 5. Some history books (including memoirs by Stravinsky himself) state that the stay lasted for only 2 weeks and that the two were simply close friends, but the creators of the film would have us believe that a torrid love affair occurred under the eyes of Katerina, a lusty sexual fulfilling of a need for both geniuses which ends in Katerina and the children moving out to Biarritz and distance develops between Igor and Coco: the secretive patronage of Coco to the Ballet Russes is supposed to have allowed a new performance of the 'Sacre' with costumes designed by Chanel and re-choreographed by Leonid Massine - the truth of these elements cannot be proved.

So what we have here is a two hour nearly wordless study of the needs of two famous people colliding in an affair but also focusing the world of Paris' attention on new ways of creativity. Mikkelsen and Mouglalis are terrific if cold, the 'love' scenes are beautifully photographed, and the decor of Chanel's house and all of the costumes are splendid. Gabriel Yared provides a musical score that is based on phrases from Stravinsky and makes for an exciting background for this visual outing. It is worth viewing if only to step inside the Paris of the time of the two main characters. Just don't expect solid facts to reign! Grady Harp

According to some historians, the couturier Coco Chanel and the modernist composer Igor Stravinsky had a brief affair in the early 1920s. Stravinsky was married with a family while Coco was unattached. According to the scriptwriters their paths had crossed before, in 1913, when the "The Rite of Spring" a ballet by Diaghilev with music by Stravinsky opened in Paris, causing such a commotion that the police were called. Coco was one of the audience who liked the piece. Seven or so years later she invited Stravinsky and his family to live in her elegant suburban villa. Stravinsky's wife Katerina was suffering from TB. It's not long before he and Coco are making passionate love and not long after that the rest of the household twigs to what is going on. The affair does not last long though it impels Stravinsky to the completion of one of his major works. To him, charming and successful as she is, Coco is not an artist, merely a shopkeeper, and he does not dissent when Katerina points out Coco buys people.

Coco went on to make a fortune out of perfume as well as clothes and Stravinsky became a major 20th century composer. She seems to have gotten over Stravinsky fairly quickly and indeed continued to support (anonymously) his work. Stravinsky on the other hand seems to have been shaken to the core. He did, after all, have something to lose, whereas Coco was a free agent.

This production is all that you would expect from a European director – it is all beautifully framed and shot – Coco's own designs are much in evidence – and the story proceeds at a stately pace. As Stravinsky, Mads Mikkelsen, best known as a Bond villain in Casino Royale, is every inch the uptight Russian composer, while Anna Mougladis is rather enigmatic as Coco. She likes the music and likes to support artists, but just why she takes a liking to Stravinsky is not evident, unless you accept Katerina's view that she likes to buy pretty people as well as things. Here the film makers have given us a film of beauty, but one which does not explain itself. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, we can all work out our own scenarios, but aesthetic considerations seldom amount to the full story.

Anyone who presumed that this film would be a follow-on from 'Coco before Chanel', Anne Fontaine's endearing, rags-to-riches depiction of Gabrielle 'Coco' Chanel, would be mistaken. This film is director Jan Kounen's attempt to portray Coco how she really was: a mean-spirited, conceited femme fatale.

Only the avant-garde artistry of Igor Stravinsky's music is enough to mollify Coco (Anna Mouglalis). The Russian composer's controversial work repels most for being too audacious and violent, but it entrances her, and after the Russian revolution leaves Igor and his family penniless, Coco invites them to live with her. Igor accepts and thus begins a cataclysmic affair.

What begins as a 'Remains of the Day'-type attraction – where Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson were at pains to disclose their true feelings for each other and could only do so through knowing glances – very quickly descends into a sex-crazed love affair rivalling the one in 'Last Tango in Paris'.

A subject you can usually trust French filmmakers with, however, what's missing from the plentiful love scenes between the two is, frankly, love. In fact, their entire relationship is rather curious. It's redolent of the relationship a drug addict has with drugs: It's the feeling the substance gives that's sacrosanct, not the substance itself.

I was unmoved by what I believed should have been an intense performance for the part of Igor (Mads Mikkelsen). It is staid and lacklustre, interrupted by the occasional paroxysm when he is writing or playing music. The filming of Stravinsky's seminal piece, 'The Rite of Spring' in the grand Champs-Élysées theatre (as in actuality) is very impressive: the suspense, drama and sheer creepiness convince you that you are seeing the spectacle for real.

It may be reasonably assumed that Coco was purely a product of her insular background - provincial, orphaned, raised by nuns - but she is never worthy of pity. The only person who deserves this is Igor's wife, Katherine (Yelena Morozova). Her characterisation of a powerless woman who sees her husband slip away from her inch by inch is so full of pathos that it leaves you contemplating whether to buy a bottle of Chanel No. 5 ever again.

For all her brutality, though, there's a wonderfully dainty scene where she formulates her signature fragrance. As with everything else, she's very pernickety and it's only after playing Goldilocks that she arrives at the correct blend of the 80 ingredients.

Asked if she ever felt guilty for her deeds, Coco simply says 'No' unbearably cavalierly, which left me wondering: If she never had any humanity for herself, why should we have any for her?

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Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky (2009)

It begins with the shocking (at the time) premier of the 1913 Russian composer Igor Stravinsky's great ballet, "Rite of Spring," that resulted in a minor riot in the theater (police were called, people were out of their seats and shouting). In a way, this recreation justifies the film right there--it's a bold and believable staging of the original, which has huge importance in the history of music and dance.

Then there is a party after the war, with typical early 1920s abandonment. A new era has arrived, and Stravinsky and Chanel meet.

The rest might seem to be history, but it's not. The whole rest of the film is really fiction, overall, a supposed affair between the two, and the supposed results of it in their work (Chanel No. 5 and some of Stravinsky's middle period works).

It's a slow unfolding, in part because there is little to work with. The first half hour is made up of just two scenes (the ballet and the party). Then there are mostly quiet and upscale domestic situations, some intimacies, some quiet times between. The period details are pretty wonderful, and the filming is respectfully beautiful, much like a Merchant Ivory film (which might be set in the same general period).

Acting? This is a puzzle. Both Chanel (French actress Ann Mouglalis) and Stravinsky (Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen) play everything with painful restraint. Who's to say exactly what these people were like, but surely the music is nothing if not crazy for the times (and beautifully crazy, for sure), and the fashions were nothing if not radical (and beautifully so)? But things develop as if everyone is psychotically shy and inhibited.

Most of you know there was another Coco Chanel movie released this same year, "Coco before Chanel," about the young woman's life before her fame, and in a way, the Coco there played by Audrey Tatou makes more sense. That movie was imperfect, too, and it might be said that between the two, a glimpse of the real woman might be possible, which is in a way remarkable enough. The addition of Stravinsky and his music is compelling on an artistic level, but not a dramatic one.

The movie, in its own way, tries to be romantically dramatic. The camera moves around people as they speak, and follows them into rooms and around corners. The music (mostly Stravinsky's) is vivid and rich (and Modern), and the sets are filled with plain old prettiness--wallpaper and light through doorways and a room full of flower petals (leading, we find out, to perfumes). It's all a great place to end up for an evening.

If only the company were more interested, and interesting.

Anna Mouglalis is very thin, Mads Mikkelsen has wonderful cheekbones and they do not convince me that they are playing Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky respectively. The other actors, with the exception of Grigori Manukov as Diaghilev, left no impression on me at all. Surely Chanel had more passion, more anger in her than we see in Mouglalis; surely Stravinsky made more attempts to assert himself with the domineering Chanel than Mikkelsen does here.

I was left with a great regret that the great masters of cinema have gone, the directors that were able to fashion material like this into art: Visconti, Losey, Ophuls.

This movie is often very beautiful to look at. Some of the camera-work is innovative, other times it references famous scenes in previous movies. If this were a silent picture, these things would stand out more and make for a more enjoyable experience.

Because, sadly, the movie is a bore.

It recounts the story of two not particularly attractive and certainly not pleasant individuals who have a lot of very uninteresting and apparently passionless sex that is quite clearly but not at all erotically filmed. There they are again, in bed, completely unclothed, going at it, and I found myself wondering if I should make popcorn. They are presented as they evidently were: two individuals intensely devoted to their work, work that took a lot of solitary creation. When they have sex, it is as if Stravinsky does it, quite methodically, in order to get rid of his urges - since he apparently can't have sex with his quietly suffering wife anymore, because of her illness - so that he can get back to his composing. That may be what the movie wanted to suggest. But that doesn't make for a very interesting movie. We never see much of any relationship between him and Chanel, just the sex.

It took me three days to get through the whole thing. I just couldn't keep watching for but so long at a stretch, and only finished it so that I hadn't totally wasted my money on renting it.

"Coco before Chanel" shows that Chanel could be interesting. I'm willing to believe that Stravinsky could be interesting too. But I didn't get that from this movie.

We see Chanel's involvement in the creation of Chanel No. 5, but there's no joy in it, so we don't get excited about it either.

We get even less involved in Stravinsky's composition.

It looks like a Masterpiece Theater where all the money went into the production values and nothing into the script. When you're dealing with two intellectual persons for an audience who, given the subject matter, is likely to be fairly intellectual themselves, this is not a good thing.

This movie has a great atmosphere and a great actress in the leading role. Anna Mouglalis is unbelievable. I believe that her character and the prospect that the director wants to show should be a lesson for every woman that wants to be independent in our days. I would also like to comment the respect and kindness among the members of the Russian family. The film admits that Russians are strongly related to art and education. Even ordinary people appreciate the value of arts, particularly music, as it's shown in the film. On the other hand we can see a love story between two different people, a family man and a woman that she has only one goal: to live her every moment as it was her last. She doesn't care about moralities and relationships as Igor. Coco and Igor move aside their beliefs and cultures and let their passions to guide them.

This lugubrious exercise begins with the recreation of a spectacular event in the history of European modernism at which both famous subjects are present. It's the premiere of Stravinsky's Rites of Spring with choreography by Vaslaw Nijinsky, presented under the auspices of Sergey Pavlovich Diaghilev at the Theatre des Champs Élysées in Paris on May 29, 1913. It's a hot night: fans flutter in the audience. Gradually the public breaks out in shouting and argument. The house lights flash on and off. The gendarmes are called in. The evening is a disaster but an unforgettable one. Nijinsky's rhythmic, jerky choreography, performed by dancers in exaggerated makeup and peasant costumes, seen up close here, still seems barbaric and shocking. The music, as much as you can hear of it over the murmurs and shouting, is raucous and gorgeous. Unfortunately nothing else in the film is as exciting as this, or has one hundredth the historical significance. A little affair between two famous people, Igor at loose ends, and Coco still mourning the death of her great love and early sponsor, Arthur "Boy" Capel, this never adds up to much. Coco Chanel views the momentous 'Rite of Spring' performance with the expression the actress is to have throughout the running time: a cool half-smile plays over her lips.

She doesn't actually meet Stravinsky till seven years later, in 1920, when she invites him to come to live at her country villa-- with his tubercular wife and their bevy of young children (who are never individualized). He protests that he is self-supporting, but he's not doing particularly well, he's an exile, and he's living in hotels, so he gives in. Chanel offers him a large room with a piano to work in and comfortable bedrooms for his family. Eventually she also offers him her body.

Stravinsky's wife, who is constantly unwell (and has no eyebrows) and who has to put up with knowing this is going on, is never without a pained expression. Poor Katarina Stravinskaya (Elena Morozova)! We feel for her, but we don't like her. The Stravinsky's spread around Slavic-looking cloths and even a gilded Russian icon to make their surroundings homier. "Don't you like color?" the wife asks Coco during a tour of the house. "As long as it's black," she answers. Everything in Chanel's world is black and white. That should be a warning.

As we learn in a dutiful interlude in Grasse, the perfume-making center in the South of France, this was not only the year of the designer's affair with the Russian composer but also the one in which Chanel No.5 perfume was developed. Historically, that was an event of more significance.

There is too little dialogue in this film. The affair doesn't seem particularly passionate. Why was the Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen chosen for this role? Because he has thick lips like the real Stravinsky? Because he can speak Russian and play the piano? Or just because the Dutch-born French director Jan Kounen felt some affinity with him? He never seems to possess the energy of the real Stravinsky, and certainly lacks the wiry physique. He has been wonderful as a villain and a spy, but as a Russian musical genius and a lover, he's merely stolid and sad.

Or were he and Anna Mouglalis chosen because the film was done in English and French versions, and both could do that? The half-Greek, half-French Anna Mouglalis, with her husky voice, elegant face and long neck, is a high fashion presence. In fact she has been chosen elsewhere by Karl Lagerfeld, the present incarnation of the house of Chanel, as the official ambassador of Chanel perfume. She also played, briefly, the Fifties singer Juliette Greco, in the recent biopic about Serge Gainsbourg. Clearly she had Lagerfeld's blessing, and she's more chic than the sweet-faced Audrey Tautou of Amélie, who played the designer in this year's other, more entertaining, Chanel flick. But Mouglalis has just the one expression, the half smile. It's hardly surprising that there is no chemistry between the two actors.

And with the focus on visuals rather than words, you can only wonder where all this is going, what the point of it is. Partly, it's to show off the spectacular period interiors of Chanel's black and white deco villa, and a succession of striking outfits handsomely modeled by Mouglalis (all this doubtless supervised by the indefatigable Lagerfeld), prancing around her house, taking them off to have sex with poor old sweaty Igor, delivering imperious commands to underlings at her couture house, being driven around in her Rolls Royce convertible.

Day-to-day life at the villa is deadly. Madame Stravinsky admits that her husband's music is going well, but nobody seems to be having much fun. The adulterous couplings are perfunctory. The Stravinsky boys know they're going on. Everyone is polite but miserable. "Don't you feel guilty?" asks Katarina Stravinskaya. By now we know Chanel will answer with a quick, cool "No."

She feels something, though, because after it's over and she and Igor start criticizing each other, she boasting that she's "more successful" and he dismissing her as "a shopkeeper," Chanel goes to Diaghilev and gives him a large anonymous gift, "for the Rite." (The great impresario's campy gayness is mocked: just before Coco comes in, he's seen "interviewing" a potential "secretary" by having him strip.) Chanel's handsome gift is enough to fund the whole season. It allows the "Rite" to be staged again, to great acclaim this time, so that Le Sacre du printemps bookends the film, though we don't see it performed at the end, we only hear Igor drunkenly banging away at it on Chanel's piano, after his wife has gone off with the children. "Cheer up, Igor," Coco says, toasting him. What is he suffering from, exactly? Apparently that cinematic disease, Tortured Artist Syndrome. You will be well-advised to avoid this good-looking but otherwise empty film.

The riot at the premiere of "The Rite of Spring" was much more raucous than this film depicts. The accompanying "Making of" featurette on the DVD shows much more violent action than made it into the final film.

All of Stravinsky's music throughout the movie is played slowly and sentimentally, which is not what this composer was all about.

We can only conclude that the director is more interested in baroque visuals than telling his story. In fact, it's impossible to believe that a blank stick like Mads Mikkelsen wrote such violent music. The lens is much kinder to Anna Mouglalis, who effortlessly steals all their scenes together, except for the bloodless sex scenes, in which neither are interesting.

But I can't believe we'd be talking about either of these personalities today if they'd been as boring and cataleptic in real life as they are in this film. If you want to see character in action, watch Alain Resnais's "Last Year at Marienbad" which compared to this is one long firecracker display.

If you think Audrey Tautou's Coco in Coco before Chanel is a restrained performance, Anna Mouglalis' Coco in Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky will seem downright glacial. But not cold in a romantic sense, just careful and controlled as you might expect from the iconic head of a fashion house and perfume.

Then again, Stravinsky, despite his iconoclastic Rite of Spring presented in its disturbing debut, is almost as glacial and controlling as Coco. Their love scenes are pretty as a picture, yet that's the point—they are a metaphor for the detached heroes playing at love. The film is inaccessible if you want to experience the subjects' passions in depth but satisfying if you wish to see the sacrifice these 20th-century monuments made in their personal lives for their creations.

The real strength of this biopic is in the production design and cinematography, a triumph of black and white idolatry in a muted color envelope. The architectural rendering of Coco's obsession with black and white, right down to white doors with black borders, is unforgettable, making Igor's tight fitting clothes and equally stiff glasses counterpoint to the elegantly reserved Coco. The estate, autos, and concert scenes are so realistically wrought as to make you think you were there.

The third act is a disappointment despite attempts to connect the heroes with their elder years. Well, maybe that's the point—cold is a cold does, tribal, pagan rites don't always end up well with cold monochromatic passion. However, the film manages to make it all seductive.

It's not easy to enter this closed world of fashion and composition—Igor's wife Katarina (Elena Morozova) and her children are mere accessories in the tight drama between Coco and Igor. However, the principals are so carefully controlled that even we the film spectators are outsiders

The actress who played Coco Chanel in this film is much different than the Coco Chanel film. Of course, all actresses including Anna Mag here offer something to the complex legend and fashion pioneering icon Coco Chanel. By 1913, she's successful and independent. By 1920, she's alone and lonely after the loss of Boyd Capel which I wished that they explained better in the film. He died in a car accident on his way back to her. They had a torrid love affair. Anyway, Coco is enchanted by Igor Stravinsky, a Russian musical genius, who is living in a hotel with his wife and family after the Russian revolution. She sees a kindred spirit in him as an artist herself. Her Coco is lot less affectionate than one might imagine. She's as much a mystery as Igor is to us. Both are artistic geniuses with hers in fashion and his in music. She offers her country home to help Igor and his family back on his feet. At first, she had noble intentions of helping another artist but the two get swept up in the affair. Maybe Igor feels obligated towards Coco. This film may have been more realistic. Igor is played Mik Mikaalsen. Both actor and actress who play the title roles are unfamiliar to me. I enjoyed watching the making of it to understand it. It's a dark film at times maybe too realistic as well.

It is strange how two otherwise unrelated films on the same topic can sometimes suddenly appear within a short time of one another. In 1960, for example, there were two filmed biographies of Oscar Wilde, a writer whose life had never previously been the subject of a film, and in the early seventies two separate studios were, quite by chance, working on disaster movies about skyscrapers on fire. When they discovered the coincidence they decided to join forces and produce the film now known as "The Towering Inferno".

"Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky" is another example of the same phenomenon. It was one of two French biopics of the fashion designer Coco Chanel to come out in 2009, the other being "Coco avant Chanel". It deals with the supposed affair between Chanel and the Russian composer Igor Stravinsky. (The two were certainly friends, but whether they actually had a sexual liaison is open to question).

The film opens in Paris in 1913 with the notorious first performance of Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring". Although the French have a reputation for being artistically progressive (they did, after all, contribute the word "avant-garde" to the English language), they did not live up to that reputation on this occasion, rioting in protest against what they saw as the work's aggressive modernism. Stravinsky was lucky that his composition was first performed before a Parisian audience, as their reaction caused a "succes de scandale" and helped create his reputation as one of the founding fathers of modern music. Had the premiere taken place in London, the British audience would doubtless have sat through the performance with a stiff upper lip, delivered some polite if uncomprehending applause at the end and then retired to the nearest pub to pontificate on what a crashing bore the whole thing had been and how that Russian fellow whatever-his-name-is was not a patch on our own dear Edward Elgar. The work itself would have been quietly forgotten.

The action then leaps over the First World War to 1920. Chanel's fashion business is flourishing and she is branching out into perfumery. Stravinsky, who despite his artistic radicalism was something of a political conservative, is now an anti-Communist refugee from the Russian Revolution. She invites him to live in her villa outside Paris, along with his wife and children, and the rest of the film traces the development of their alleged affair.

Like that Paris audience in 1913, French film-makers can often belie their country's reputation for bold artistic experimentation. British film critics sometimes assume that "heritage cinema" is something unique to our own conservative, nostalgia-obsessed little island, but greater familiarity with the French cinema would reassure them that our friends across the Channel can be just as nostalgic as we can. "Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky" is a case in point. (Its director Jan Kounen is Dutch by birth, but most of his work has been done in France). It is a French film of a type with which we are familiar in Britain; a historical romance about the artistic or well-to-do classes, set in a country house complete with a lovingly detailed recreation of the décor and costumes of the period. What might be called Laura Ashley cinema.

Certainly, the opening scenes have plenty of vigour and energy, but then it would be difficult to recreate "The Rite of Spring" without being vigorous and energetic. This initial energy, however, is dissipated as the film progresses, and in the second half it becomes little more than the cinematic equivalent of an "adultery in Hampstead" novel- all done very tastefully, but leisurely, slow-moving and rather dull. A film about love among the artistic bourgeoisie of the 1920s needs to offer something new and exciting if it is not to seem over-familiar, and this one, frankly, has little to offer in that department. 5/10

To say a film is strikingly subtle may sound somewhat counterintuitive, yet director Jan Kounen's Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky abounds with such precarious artistic contradictions and exploits them with impressive ease. In fact, it seems hardly accidental that Kounen's chosen tone and aesthetic are not far removed from those of Chanel herself: serene, impeccably beautiful, yet with more than a dash of icy aloofness, with a creeping pace and lengthy silent interludes often occupied by nothing more than characters staring with vaguely furrowed brows. Yet in many ways such stillness and silence serve to articulate volumes about the titular characters, the ambiguity of such an approach allowing the viewer to 'fill in the gaps' and piece together the mystery of the characters in the same way they are prompted to envision almost all narrative context.

Kounen's film could hardly be less typical as a biopic in the sense that it eschews any exposition whatsoever, forcing the viewer to independently pursue the cause for Stravinsky's banishment from Russia, Gabrielle Chanel's establishment as an independent fashion designer or the significance of almost every other character in the film – a risky touch which ultimately proves beneficial, adding a more interactive element to the narrative and ultimately trimming all extraneous content to instead dwell on the central emotional arc. Apart from an arresting and mesmerizing 15 minute opening performance of Stravinsky's abrasively modern 'Rite of Spring' ballet and the audience's subsequent cataclysmic uproar, Coco & Igor proves aptly titled, its scope boldly remains one of proximity and intimacy throughout. Concentrating on the passionate affair between the two creative icons, their mutual inspiration and the eventual unravelling of both, Kounen leaves exterior concerns such as the mutual cultural significance of both central characters largely left to the audience to supply, apart from precisely placed thematic nuggets (when Chanel, in a dispute with Stravinsky, articulates her having more money and fame than Stravinsky, the composer spits back "You are not an artist Coco – you are 'une vendeuse de tissues'" – a line whose English translation as 'shopkeep' loses an enormous amount of its acidic contempt).

That said, for a film that skims to the bare essentials of story, Kounen's editing could hardly demonstrate a more contrary knack for distilling. With cameras consistently gliding slowly across empty halls, up winding stairwells or past brooding characters, the film's hypnotic slowness and cloistered atmosphere is executed with a largely elegant flair, but with a pace so sluggish it threatens to become still photography on numerous occasions, such an approach feels undeniably excessive and unnecessarily restrained (the film's ending scenes, in particular, are agonizingly slow). Although Kounen's brilliant use of the staggeringly beautiful and concussively powerful music by Stravinsky helps inspire the film with passion and the few yet extensive sex scenes do breathe some well needed fire and rawness into the film, there does remain a sense of corseted formality throughout which detracts from the film's engagement factor, capturing the stiffness of a traditional biography in lieu of its inundation of facts.

It is a taxing job indeed to retain audience interest through two largely unlikeable, albeit respectable, characters whose emotions are largely glimpsed in traces of the utmost subtlety under grimly stoic exteriors, yet Anna Mougalis and Mads Mikkelsen prove easily up to the task as Chanel and Stravinsky. Both tremendously capable performers manage to convey so much through a frown, a stare, a wintry smile, that even their character development being reduced to vaguely disconnected actions (Stravinsky's starting the day with a grim routine of push-ups and drinking egg yolks, lying in leafy fields or slowing sinking into a bathtub; Chanel's energetically cutting open corsets, imperiously appraising her workers' nails or secretly, contemptuously donating to Stravinky's 'Rite of Spring' "for myself") seems to betray volumes of inner demons. Similarly, Yelena Morozova delivers an equally remarkable performance as Stravinsky's ill, haunted wife Katarina, her silently accusatory presence constantly looming to the forefront and serving as a constant reminder of the off centre moral core of the affair and wounded protagonists.

Mesmerizing, daringly sparse and elegant to a tee, Coco & Igor channels the poise and essence of a Chanel concoction at the cost of lacking somewhat of the innovative fury of a Stravinsky effort. While hardly the most informative in regards to the factual history of either character, Kounen's film proves more telling of the pain and passion of either figure than any factual account could be, ultimately proving a serenely audacious and ambiguously compelling success in the vein of either subject.

-8/10

'Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky' is nothing all that bad, there just isn't that much overly good about it either - in my opinion, of course.

The acting, spearheaded by Mads Mikkelsen and Anna Mouglalis, is all fair, the music is actually solid (the film's strongest element, I'd say) though everything else is either underwhelming or simply average. This 2009 release looks good onscreen, however I needed more from it personally.

Mikkelsen & Mouglalis put in shifts but I wouldn't say the overall acting elevates the film all that much, which was very much needed due to a rather dull plot. I don't mind a slow pace, but there needs to be some sort of pay-off at the end... there just isn't here. It was cool to learn a bit more about these two people, mind you.

The movie was technically well made but it was dull, dull, dull. The story, about an affair Russian composer Igor Stravinsky apparently had with French fashion designer Coco Chanel, might've been interesting enough for a short film, but wasn't sufficient for a full-length one. The subject, not that exciting to begin with, was stretched thin to fill 2 hours; about 3/4 of the way through, I felt like I was watching a dead horse being flogged. So Igor had a roll in the hay with Coco; so what? I would've been far more entertained if instead of being fixated on the affair, the movie had shown us what had happened in Russia that made Igor and his family flee for France, or if he went to rejoin his wife and kids after the affair.

I must also say that, while I'm sure there's a core of truth to the story, it's obvious the filmmakers took a lot of liberties with the facts in order to 'spice things up'; so many, in fact, that it verges on the indecent. It's a good thing dead people can't sue filmmakers (and the novelists whose works their movies are based on) for defamation.

The best thing about this movie was the performance by Mads Mikkelsen (who played the bad guy in Casino Royale a few years ago) as Igor.

5 out of 10 stars.

Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky: A mixture of Chanel No. 5 and the music of Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring". It depicts a love story between two geniuses: madness, passion, pain and aesthetics. With her beauty and her deep voice, Anna Mouglalis embodies her character with grace and talent. She's truly sublime. The cast is very good, and it is beautifully filmed, full of gorgeous details. The historical reconstruction is also almost perfect.

Although this film is quite different from Kounen's previous movies, it is primarily a film which is qualitatively very solid. One of the most memorable sequences of the film is the moment when, after a short sequence introducing Coco Chanel, we watch the famous sequence of the Rite of Spring. Although you cannot compare Stravinsky with Kounen, this sequence refers in a way to the reaction he got with some of his previous films: adored by some and totally rejected by others. After this sequence, we enter directly in the plot that tightens the relationship between Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky. Through this story of feverish passion and this both intense and particular relationship, Kounen questions the turmoil of creation and thus plunges us into the intimacy of two of the most influential figures of their time, each being on the verge of achieving something extreme in their work (fashion/perfume, and avant-garde music). A very interesting film that demonstrate that Kounen has the ability to capture a new subject: not really a biopic, more a tale of an intense passion and confusion. The question remains whether this film is a parenthesis in his career or a new development.

... if only for the recreation of the first night of Igor Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring". If the costumes are accurate, the poor dancers were made to look like stereotypical Egyptian Sand Dancers (the men) and native Americans (the ballerinas). And then there is the impact of the music, which still grates on some even, in my case, after 70 years. Mads Mikkelsen does a good job in portraying the tortured genius of a composer far ahead of his time in an often unappreciative world. The other engaging performance came from Elene Morozova as Stravinsky's long-suffering wife. Overall, a visually and dramatically good effort. And the Rite of Spring does grow on you, especially if you see it in ballet rather than concert form.

This movie makes it very hard for itself. It begins with one of the greatest events in western culture in the last two hundred years or so, and after that, well, it's just impossible.

There is a long fascination with what famous people said to each other; or how they were in affairs, and the reality is not so very gripping. This story is a putative for a start - well movies always play fast and loose with historical fact.

The two subjects are not very engaging, they are rather like wind up toys that move and speak but have nothing inside. It doesn't help that their expressions are permanently fixed and pensive. All the same the production design and photography are very satisfying and with Stravinsky as a soundtrack, it ain't all bad, but it's a bit dour and inevitable.

The best part is the opening and the night that The Rite of Spring was premiered. It's almost all accurate and it has the excitement and danger of the theater on that night with music that is still as visceral and intoxicating as ever a century later.