France, 1950s. From the Quartier Latin to Saint-Tropez via New York, a young Parisienne becomes the icon of a whole generation. In 1954, 19-year-old Francoise Sagan shot to fame with her ... See full summary »
France, 1950s. From the Quartier Latin to Saint-Tropez via New York, a young Parisienne becomes the icon of a whole generation. In 1954, 19-year-old Francoise Sagan shot to fame with her first novel, Bonjour Tristesse. Flamboyant, scandalous and underrated, Sagan lived her life at the furthest edge of excess. She won and lost fortunes at the roulette table, bought and crashed superb sports cars, drank, danced and partied, leaving a trail of lovers in her wake. Written by
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"Sagan" was originally produced and shot as a two-part TV miniseries (2 x 90'). When seeing it, Luc Besson (director, producer but also distributor) decided to purchase the screen rights and released it after having trimmed it down to a two hour feature film. See more »
When Françoise chooses her pen name, we can see the bar code on the back cover of the book. Such detail could not exist in the 1950s. See more »
Why another biopic? Why biopics at all? Writer-director Diane Kurys doesn't know. Perhaps so you have something to take your mother to. But chances are she'd fall asleep. Francoise Sagan may have had an exciting life, but you certainly wouldn't know from this movie. It feels like the entire cast and crew were high on 875, that mysterious morphine Sagan was a slave to half her life. Because nothing ever happens, you will quickly find your mind wandering to the fringes of the screen. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's even a cinematic strategy, but I wouldn't bet on it. Take Florence Malraux, the eminent writer's daughter. Played by Margot Abascal, she is so much more vibrant and adorable than everybody else you wonder why the movie isn't about her. Or take the shady guy: When Francoise and Peggy, drunk as hell, check into the Hotel Raphael for a little lesbian loving, they pass a nameless stranger walking the other way. I wonder what his story is. Where is he going, wearing giant shades, in the middle of the night? Perhaps I should have followed him.
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