As an homage to the original 1915-16 series, Les Vampires by Louis Feuillade and starring Musidora, this 8-episode series by Olivier Assayas starring Alicia Vikander certainly held my interest. Vikander is wonderful as the title character, and the weaving together of old clips with modern re-enactments was always fascinating to me. It was also a treat to hear anecdotes about the original production, like the wardrobe design, as well as bits from Musidora's memoir that were re-enacted. If it had focused more on these things, or confined itself to retelling the original series in some updated form, or perhaps been completely about the making of the original series over a century ago, I would have liked this much more, and I think it would have been artistically purer.
Unfortunately, it has more to do with a behind-the-scenes look into the making of the modern series, complete with the soap opera stories of the various cast and crew. Subplots include all of the romantic attachments for Mira (an anagram for Irma, get it?), including her ex-boyfriend who shows up looking for solace when his wife has a miscarriage, her ex-assistant/lover Laurie (Adria Arjona) who enjoys dominating and humiliating her, a flirtation with the wardrobe manager, and the secret yearning of her new assistant. None of this was all that interesting to me, and the bits with Laurie were repelling (I never care for stories along the lines of On Human Bondage and this felt like it). Her struggles to overcome past relationships as well as her insecurities provide parallels to the story line for the director of the show, a clear stand-in for Olivier Assayas himself (more on this later).
Other forgettable subplots include the actor playing Guerande (Vincent Lacoste) angling to have a sex scene added to the script and whining in general about how he and his character are perceived. There's a crack-addicted actor playing Moreno (Lars Eidinger) who shows up needing to score, and who later goes to the emergency room because they've found him hanging unconscious in his closet, a victim of autoerotic asphyxiation; Eidinger's performance is wonderful but this seemed like random, unnecessary drama. There are squabbles between producer and wardrobe manager, and a financier who wants Mira to sign a perfume deal above all else. All of it becomes a massive headache for the director (Vincent Macaigne), who varies between going to therapy and throwing temper tantrums. His babbling about spirits and his ex-wife (Vivian Wu) was, I believe, trying to communicate real truths from Assayas's life, but it was a lowlight for me.
And that brings me to Maggie Cheung, Assayas's real ex-wife, who hangs over this entire series, even though she had nothing to do with it. I hated the fact that Assayas referenced their marriage so directly, as it felt way too on-the-nose and personal, and of course didn't provide her perspective. All of the sessions with his therapist that cover this and other anxiety were tedious. Episode 4, where he carries on an extended conversation with "Jade Lee" (Vivian Wu) followed by inviting Alicia Vikander over to his apartment to talk about his insecurities relative to Louis Feuillade is a real low point. "First of all, stop whining," she tells him. Jesus, indeed. Another awful, awful scene is when Mira talks to "Jade Lee" in a later episode, after the director has stormed off the set. When Jade Lee whispers "Do it Rene," encouraging him to return, I almost threw up. These aspects of the production felt like a personal therapy session for Assayas over unresolved issues he had with Cheung, and should have been completely excised.
Vikander provides a steady counterbalance to these issues, however. She's engaging and fantastic slinking around in her modern catsuit as Irma Vep. Just as Musidora was cute in all of her various outfits and dressed up as a man, so is Vikander, and she plays both Mira, the insecure actor, and Irma, the confident criminal, very well. The reenactments from Musidora's memoirs didn't fit very well narratively, but were interesting as well, and included her convincing the police chief to let production continue after he had ordered it stopped because of indecency, Feuillade abruptly terminating the actor playing the Grand Vampire because he missed a day of work, the bomb going off in the café actually being a rather strong explosive, the scary scene where she needed to lay on the train tracks as it went over the top of her, and her final death which had shrapnel coming out of a gun loaded with "blanks." Lastly, even though it was a small part, I loved seeing Carrie Brownstein (of Sleater-Kinney and Portlandia fame) playing Mira's agent, and the continued breadth of her acting career.
Overall, it's a series I really wanted to like more, fond as I was of the original and Assayas's 1996 film, which he also references via clips and some elements of the story in later episodes. It's reasonably faithful to Feuillade's work, and while there are omissions, like the significant reduction of Mazamette's role, I have to give him credit for revitalizing this 107 year old work. At this point, however, my advice to him would be to leave references to Maggie Cheung out of his creative output, and move on.
Unfortunately, it has more to do with a behind-the-scenes look into the making of the modern series, complete with the soap opera stories of the various cast and crew. Subplots include all of the romantic attachments for Mira (an anagram for Irma, get it?), including her ex-boyfriend who shows up looking for solace when his wife has a miscarriage, her ex-assistant/lover Laurie (Adria Arjona) who enjoys dominating and humiliating her, a flirtation with the wardrobe manager, and the secret yearning of her new assistant. None of this was all that interesting to me, and the bits with Laurie were repelling (I never care for stories along the lines of On Human Bondage and this felt like it). Her struggles to overcome past relationships as well as her insecurities provide parallels to the story line for the director of the show, a clear stand-in for Olivier Assayas himself (more on this later).
Other forgettable subplots include the actor playing Guerande (Vincent Lacoste) angling to have a sex scene added to the script and whining in general about how he and his character are perceived. There's a crack-addicted actor playing Moreno (Lars Eidinger) who shows up needing to score, and who later goes to the emergency room because they've found him hanging unconscious in his closet, a victim of autoerotic asphyxiation; Eidinger's performance is wonderful but this seemed like random, unnecessary drama. There are squabbles between producer and wardrobe manager, and a financier who wants Mira to sign a perfume deal above all else. All of it becomes a massive headache for the director (Vincent Macaigne), who varies between going to therapy and throwing temper tantrums. His babbling about spirits and his ex-wife (Vivian Wu) was, I believe, trying to communicate real truths from Assayas's life, but it was a lowlight for me.
And that brings me to Maggie Cheung, Assayas's real ex-wife, who hangs over this entire series, even though she had nothing to do with it. I hated the fact that Assayas referenced their marriage so directly, as it felt way too on-the-nose and personal, and of course didn't provide her perspective. All of the sessions with his therapist that cover this and other anxiety were tedious. Episode 4, where he carries on an extended conversation with "Jade Lee" (Vivian Wu) followed by inviting Alicia Vikander over to his apartment to talk about his insecurities relative to Louis Feuillade is a real low point. "First of all, stop whining," she tells him. Jesus, indeed. Another awful, awful scene is when Mira talks to "Jade Lee" in a later episode, after the director has stormed off the set. When Jade Lee whispers "Do it Rene," encouraging him to return, I almost threw up. These aspects of the production felt like a personal therapy session for Assayas over unresolved issues he had with Cheung, and should have been completely excised.
Vikander provides a steady counterbalance to these issues, however. She's engaging and fantastic slinking around in her modern catsuit as Irma Vep. Just as Musidora was cute in all of her various outfits and dressed up as a man, so is Vikander, and she plays both Mira, the insecure actor, and Irma, the confident criminal, very well. The reenactments from Musidora's memoirs didn't fit very well narratively, but were interesting as well, and included her convincing the police chief to let production continue after he had ordered it stopped because of indecency, Feuillade abruptly terminating the actor playing the Grand Vampire because he missed a day of work, the bomb going off in the café actually being a rather strong explosive, the scary scene where she needed to lay on the train tracks as it went over the top of her, and her final death which had shrapnel coming out of a gun loaded with "blanks." Lastly, even though it was a small part, I loved seeing Carrie Brownstein (of Sleater-Kinney and Portlandia fame) playing Mira's agent, and the continued breadth of her acting career.
Overall, it's a series I really wanted to like more, fond as I was of the original and Assayas's 1996 film, which he also references via clips and some elements of the story in later episodes. It's reasonably faithful to Feuillade's work, and while there are omissions, like the significant reduction of Mazamette's role, I have to give him credit for revitalizing this 107 year old work. At this point, however, my advice to him would be to leave references to Maggie Cheung out of his creative output, and move on.