La Vie en Rose (2007): C-

Director(s): Olivier Dahan. Screenplay: Olivier Dahan. Cast: Marion Cotillard, Sylvie Testud, Pascal Greggory, Emmanuelle Seigner, Gerard Depardieu and Clotilde Courau. Distributor: Picturehouse. Runtime: 140 min. Rating: PG-13.

Usually, biopics have a tough time balancing an adequate narrative with the life of the subject. Olivier Dahan's newest film, La Vie en Rose, is no exception to such a precedent. A hideously esoteric affair so claustrophobic in essence to the point in which you want to run out of the theater for a breath of fresh air, La Vie en Rose fails to lucidly encapsulate singer Edith Piaf's (played by Marion Cotillard) life, shamelessly taking key points in her life and ripping them to pieces through an erroneous and essentially blemished narrative; one of pure mediocrity, it jumps all over the place sans any particular raison d'etre: one day, Piaf is 6, the next day, she's 45, the next day, she's 24, and the next-next day she is dead. Piaf's life makes for an appealing premise: the girl—poor, un-cared for by her mother, and most of the time sick—suffered much when little; indeed, if anything, the film does accurately capture her suffering, but it's when Dahan starts framing certain scenes as clichés that the problems start. I don't know what the hell such a glitched narrative is of good use for, but here, it ruins everything—as Piaf grows up, she discovers her talent, then sings, gets drunk, almost gets married, is born (oh, whoops, wrong order), sings, collapses, then, as unfortunate as it may seem, dies. The film is so caught up in the fundamentals of the incoherent narrative that it leaves everything—specifically Cotillard's dazzling performance—un-cared for, also blatantly leaving you monotonously awed at the screen in desperation. Piaf's life was, indeed, tragic, but the film only lays tragedy upon tragedy, and death upon death in such a melodramatic way that all you want to do is leave. Hideously manipulated, La Vie en Rose has, for all intents and purposes, failed Piaf, as its final shot dares not evoke a tragic ending—more proof that La Vie en Rose is as commercial as French films get. And that is not, not, a good thing.