*My review of Cyrano, My Love was originally published on Film Inquiry. Click here to read the original post and check out more great reviews from this awesome site!*
On paper, Cyrano, My Love is not exactly my cup of tea. I’m not against period pieces or anything of the sort, but I certainly have an aversion to the kind of simple biographical treatments that pervade art house cinemas during the fall months. They’re a constant force, and Alexis Michalik‘s film seems to fit in those confines. As I was watching its narrative play out, I was reminded of The Man Who Invented Christmas, a film that posits that everything Charles Dickens wrote in A Christmas Carol—a work made under time constraints and economic pressures—came from some experience of his own. I expected my reaction to Cyrano, My Love to be similarly mixed.
Pleasantly, this was not the case.
As someone who is completely unfamiliar with the story of Cyrano de Bergerac, writer/director Michalik‘s account of its creation is actually quite fascinating—and deeply enjoyable on a pure storytelling level. The film follows Edmond Rostand (Thomas Solivérès), a French playwright in a serious creative rut. His latest show is a flop, and he needs something to help put food on the table for his wife (Alice de Lencquesaing) and family.
Two breakthroughs happen on his path to success. First, Edmond is introduced to actor Constant Coquelin (Olivier Gourmet) and subsequently commissioned to write a new play for the French star. Second, Edmond becomes a curious sort of liaison for Léo Volny (Tom Leeb), a close friend with a deep desire to impress the beautiful Jeanne d’Alcie (Lucie Boujenah). However, Léo does not possess Edmond’s miraculous way with words, and he uses his friend’s penmanship to seduce the love of his life. In the process, Edmond finds inspiration for his new show, creating one of the most acclaimed pieces of theater of the late 19th century.
Told with a cheerful verve, Cyrano, My Love is a wonderful confection, inserting a joyous “let’s put on a show” narrative into the context of this familiar historical piece. Often driven by Romain Trouillet‘s musical score, the film moves forward with a humorous and spirited energy, tracking Edmond’s path from artistic failure to triumph. In this manner, it’s a tried and true crowd-pleaser, but it earns so many of its emotional payoffs. Thomas Solivérès is a charismatic actor, armed with an appropriately anxious disposition; as Edmond, he’s the sympathetic center of the film’s orbit. However, even the supporting players get their moment in the sun—one of my favorite scenes is when Jean Coquelin (Igor Gotesman), the struggling thespian son of Constant, finally gets his chance to shine in the right role. Cyrano, My Love is a deeply un-cynical movie, and it benefits enormously from this fact.
This praise does come with one significant disclaimer. Considering the nature of Edmond’s relationship with Jeanne, it’s not surprising that Edmond’s wife takes exception to his behavior. This is a significant source of conflict throughout, but its ultimate resolution didn’t sit well with me, veering close to the kind of Great Man biopic nonsense that the rest of Michalik‘s film staunchly avoids. Still, this misstep in the finale is not enough to derail the entire endeavor, which remains a breezy look at the unconventional creation of a classic. It’s not revolutionary, but Cyrano, My Love‘s well-executed array of simple pleasures satisfies from start to finish.
On paper, Cyrano, My Love is not exactly my cup of tea. I’m not against period pieces or anything of the sort, but I certainly have an aversion to the kind of simple biographical treatments that pervade art house cinemas during the fall months. They’re a constant force, and Alexis Michalik‘s film seems to fit in those confines. As I was watching its narrative play out, I was reminded of The Man Who Invented Christmas, a film that posits that everything Charles Dickens wrote in A Christmas Carol—a work made under time constraints and economic pressures—came from some experience of his own. I expected my reaction to Cyrano, My Love to be similarly mixed.
Pleasantly, this was not the case.
As someone who is completely unfamiliar with the story of Cyrano de Bergerac, writer/director Michalik‘s account of its creation is actually quite fascinating—and deeply enjoyable on a pure storytelling level. The film follows Edmond Rostand (Thomas Solivérès), a French playwright in a serious creative rut. His latest show is a flop, and he needs something to help put food on the table for his wife (Alice de Lencquesaing) and family.
Two breakthroughs happen on his path to success. First, Edmond is introduced to actor Constant Coquelin (Olivier Gourmet) and subsequently commissioned to write a new play for the French star. Second, Edmond becomes a curious sort of liaison for Léo Volny (Tom Leeb), a close friend with a deep desire to impress the beautiful Jeanne d’Alcie (Lucie Boujenah). However, Léo does not possess Edmond’s miraculous way with words, and he uses his friend’s penmanship to seduce the love of his life. In the process, Edmond finds inspiration for his new show, creating one of the most acclaimed pieces of theater of the late 19th century.
Told with a cheerful verve, Cyrano, My Love is a wonderful confection, inserting a joyous “let’s put on a show” narrative into the context of this familiar historical piece. Often driven by Romain Trouillet‘s musical score, the film moves forward with a humorous and spirited energy, tracking Edmond’s path from artistic failure to triumph. In this manner, it’s a tried and true crowd-pleaser, but it earns so many of its emotional payoffs. Thomas Solivérès is a charismatic actor, armed with an appropriately anxious disposition; as Edmond, he’s the sympathetic center of the film’s orbit. However, even the supporting players get their moment in the sun—one of my favorite scenes is when Jean Coquelin (Igor Gotesman), the struggling thespian son of Constant, finally gets his chance to shine in the right role. Cyrano, My Love is a deeply un-cynical movie, and it benefits enormously from this fact.
This praise does come with one significant disclaimer. Considering the nature of Edmond’s relationship with Jeanne, it’s not surprising that Edmond’s wife takes exception to his behavior. This is a significant source of conflict throughout, but its ultimate resolution didn’t sit well with me, veering close to the kind of Great Man biopic nonsense that the rest of Michalik‘s film staunchly avoids. Still, this misstep in the finale is not enough to derail the entire endeavor, which remains a breezy look at the unconventional creation of a classic. It’s not revolutionary, but Cyrano, My Love‘s well-executed array of simple pleasures satisfies from start to finish.
THE FINAL GRADE: B (7.3/10)
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