Some films find their time, and Colette is certainly one of those. (If you want a bit more about its timing, read this.) As a story, ultimately, of female empowerment and personal freedom it is perfect for the political and social climate; it is also very well acted and executed.
Keira Knightley (Collateral Beauty) in the title role is a wonderful blend of vulnerable power. She is a woman of her times, but with a mind and will to make her own way, at least eventually; social revolution is never a quick thing. What is fascinating is how the story resonates differently for people. Colette’s relationship with her husband, played by Dominic West (Tomb Raider) is challenging to watch. He loves her, but also takes advantage of her even if it is with her consent. My view of this history was a bit more malicious before I saw this portrayal. He is played, quite well, as a charismatic ass, but an ass nonetheless. West’s Willy (cause that is just fun to say) was a man who had a brand and what amounted to a factory for art under his name. Who knew “work for hire” went back that far?
Most of the film is the buildup to the inevitable resolution between Colette and Willy. But, in between, the relationship is a bit more hospitable and representative of Paris in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which was a hotbed of art and social evolution. I also couldn’t help but hear echos of Big Eyes while watching, but the spousal dynamic is very different and more subtle in Colette–a dynamic that is sure to spur interesting debate between viewers.
In key roles around the couple, Denise Gough (Juliet, Naked), Fiona Shaw (Killing Eve), and Eleanor Tomlinson (Ordeal by Innocence) offer several perspectives on women in that time for Colette to consider. And Al Weaver (Grantchester) and Dickie Beau, in particular, provide some interesting performances and men for her life.
The film is very deliberate in its pacing, but gripping. Director Wash Westmoreland (Still Alice) takes his time to establish Colette so we can watch her mature and explore and change. He also co-wrote it with his Still Alice collaborator Richard Glatzer with the assistance of Rebecca Lenkiewicz (Disobedience). Lenkiewicz helped rescue the film from some of the same pitfalls of Still Alice, which rushed to its end. However, the ending still didn’t quite nail the moment for me. It should have been an unmitigated triumph and was, instead, simply a solid moment. Westmoreland simply lost control of the pace to bring it off at full power for me.
This is a film worth seeing and, honestly, it is filmed for the big screen. It is lush and full of period detail. It may translate to a small screen for the story, but it will lose some of its scope and richness. It will also probably echo through awards season for the performances and production, so catch it early so you know why. And, while you’re at it, enjoy the story of independence and ability about a woman who is still one of the most celebrated European writer’s of all time.