Beautiful, moving film.

The film creates a perfect balance between action and depth of basic needs, in the midst of an infertile atmosphere.

The movie turns out to be a little better than the average. Starting from a romantic formula often seen in the cinema, it ends in the most predictable (and somewhat bland) way.

This movie feels like it was made purely to piss off people who want good shows

I wasn't planning on writing a review of this film until I read so many negative remarks of Jean Seberg's performance. Having read about Ms. Seberg's life, I couldn't help from thinking that her character, Cecile, might have experienced some of the conflicts that Seberg encountered in real life. Unlike some other reviewers, I felt that Seberg's performance added value to a production that would have otherwise lost my interest. And, yes, I liked looking at her too, even though I always felt that her boyish haircut failed to bring out the full dimensions of her feminine beauty.The picturesque locale on the French Riviera was visually appealing, and the opulent society depicted was very stylish and glossy, even to the ostentatious point of driving huge late 50's Chryslers in France, but these attributes would not have kept me awake as the hour grew late. As much as I like Deborah Kerr, she wasn't enough to prevent me from turning away from the film, but Seberg and the intelligent, often profound words given to her by the writers maintained my curiosity. Niven's "aging playboy" character, on the other hand, was much too disagreeable and hackneyed to interest me for very long. While Cecile never abandoned the fashionable life of wealth and high social status that she had inherited, she did seriously pause to question its artificiality, shallowness, and insincerity. Unlike most of the members of the privileged class that surrounded her on all sides, she recognized the emptiness of their values and priorities. In reading about Seberg's own life, she made the very same observations of Hollywood, stating at one point, "I never knew until I came here (to Hollywood) that someone could be really nice to you for years and hate your guts." So the young woman from Marshalltown, Iowa, who had been chosen by Otto Preminger out of 18,000 hopefuls to play "Saint Joan", finally made it to the glamorous world of fame and fortune, only to meet a very tragic end at a very young age. Like Cecile, Jean entered the flashy world of the beautiful people only to find immense dissatisfaction and sorrow in the end. I couldn't help from believing that Ms. Seberg strongly identified with the inner discord of her character, which made her performance all the more powerful and meaningful to me.

The wonderfully fresh and vivacious Jean Seberg here shines in her second film. The previous year she had played Joan of Arc (chosen from 18,000 young girls who auditioned for the role), and here Otto Preminger directs his protégé again to superb effect. The film opens with very dramatic music by Georges Auric. This film is based upon the best-selling first novel by the young Francoise Sagan, which created a scandal then but now is not scandalous at all. What passed for 'decadence' at the time was a life of aimless idling by the rich on the Riviera, some gambling, some boating, some swimming, some affairs, and a great deal of insipid self-indulgence. This we see epitomised in Seberg's father, played to perfection by David Niven, a shallow idler and womanizer who straightens his bow tie self-consciously between seductions in the bushes. He and Jean have a 'father-and-daughter-thing' because her mother died long ago, and they really don't want anybody else in their lives apart from casual partners with whom they can romp, only to throw them away when used, joking about them to each other as they get ready to have an evening out. As the film opens, Niven's girlfriend of the moment is Elsa, a charmingly empty-headed creature played delightfully by Mylene Demongeot, who shows such talent as a restrained comedienne. Juliette Greco makes a full-throated appearance in a club, singing the film's theme song all the way through as the dancing and whirling Jean stares at her glassy-eyed over men's shoulders, lost in haunted visions of regret. In 1958, the teenage girls of Britain all swooned over and identified with Jean Seberg, who seems to have originated the shorn boyish haircut which Mia Farrow later copied. Niven as the amiable cad was pretty much what one would expect. But into this mix comes Miss Straight, in the form of Deborah Kerr, who says to Niven when he gets flirty: 'I don't want to be casual.' That's for sure. When Niven finally decides he wants to marry her, she becomes a Little Hitler in no time, bossing Jean around, stopping everyone having 'fun', and generally making herself odious with her control-freakery. This leads to a campaign to drive her out by Jean and Elsa, who has been unceremoniously dumped. Meanwhile, Kerr has fallen hard, and in a revealing shot in the harsh sun we even discover that her true complexion was rather gingery and freckly, something concealed in her other films. Tragedy is not long in coming, hence the 'tristesse'. This is a social document of the 1950s which people interested in knowing what things were once like should watch. The film is directed by a master, Preminger, and Jean Seberg 'makes it' entirely. She is so refreshing, natural, young, real. Poor Jean Seberg. By the age of 40 she was dead. But she left much to remember her by: no one who has seen 'Breathless' (1960) can ever forget her. This film too keeps her wonderful memory alive. Her best acting performance was probably in 'Lilith', but she does well enough here, wholly dominating the screen and acting circles round the old pros. Oh yes, and then there's the inside joke about Eveline Eyfel playing three identical sisters who act as the maid, which is an amusing touch. The Mediterranean sparkles in the sunshine, the pine trees along the beach are exuding their aroma, swim suits dry in minutes: come on in, the water's fine!

As Andrew Sarris said, "Preminger changes trash into art". Yes, and this film is the best proof. From a very dated novella from Francoise Sagan, we get a simple, subtle and elegant film. THE SUNNY PAST: pink, blue and yellow colors (the shirts and bathing costumes, the sea "like velvet" as Cecile says), the umbrella falling and hiding Cecile and her boyfriend, the geometric lines of the house with its wonderful environment, the pine trees (you can almost smell them). Everything as the background of a drama that will soon burst. THE BLEAK PRESENT: Grey Paris, the picture gallery, the "existentialist cave", Concordia Square, Les Halles, the luxurious apartment where is hidden a painful souvenir, and, above all, Cecile makeup in front of the mirror. Juliette Greco sings: "My smile is void of loving/my kiss has no caresses/I'm faithful to my love/my bittersweet tristesse". Very god performances from Jean Seberg and David Niven (she is here much better than in "Lilith"). Cinematography: Georges Perinal, music: Auric (remember the Cocteau films), credits: Saul Bass.

Bonjour Tristesse covers similar ground as 'The Member of the Wedding.' to wit, a possessive daughter tries to prevent a relationship from forming between a beloved family member and an interloper. While critics love 'Member of the Wedding,' I find Julie Harris to be a jumbo-drag and an adenoidal, scenery-chomping thespian in everything she's been in. This portrays irritating, rich idiots as in Last Year at Marienbad, but this time it's a travelogue.In this Preminger movie sequences develop, but characters do not. For the first 30 minutes he's content to blur the father-daughter relationship between Seberg and Niven, making uncomfortable sexual readings possible. Once the conflict is introduced, Seberg can't deliver the depth the part requires. Kerr pulls rank and turns the film into 'Endless Love.' Seberg's vacuous narration, is like something out of Strange Interlude - it is not good. I really wish someone other than Niven was in his role. He spends so much time normalizing orthodox British behavior in all his movies, he never gets around to the character.In the most memorable sequence, an evening out dancing becomes a free-for-all in a harbor. Bertolucci steals the entire scene for his empty exercise, 'The Conformist.' Kerr is on board to clasp her hands and portray another major pain (as in Black Narcissus, Night of the Iguana, King and I, Heaven Knows Mr. Allyson, Tea and Sympathy, etc. etc.). Really, Kerr was a horrible actress. I wish every movie with her could end with a fatal car crash, or even better, start with one.People uncomfortable with ambiguity should avoid this.