User Reviews

Watching Louis Malle's La Vie Privée was an exercise in patience that finally managed to pay off. It wasn't even the bleak colors (remeniscent of the cheap color prints of the 60's) or the lack of chemistry between Bardot and Mastroianni that pushed the audience to the limit. It was perhaps the stilted dialog, made nearly unbearable by the fact that it was poorly dubbed into English. Maybe the film would have worked better in black and white or as a silent. Maybe not...The films final sequence (stretching over the last seven minutes) redeems nearly all its faults. The carefully composed shots, alternating between the faces of the stars and a play being performed on stage (with a remarkable backdrop of an old Spoletto basilica) empowered by moving music brings us closest to the characters. Once again, the so-called "silent" moment dominates the film, showing us the director's capabilities in full bloom. The tension is enhanced by an increased tempo in editing, leading perfectly to the climax. For what may be a deeply flawed film, I feel bad for the people that left early. Those last seven minutes define great film-making.

For the record, I saw the dubbed version. But for the first hour, there is so little dialogue, I don't think it could matter very much. This early Malle film spends so much time on Bardot's character's angst and yearning for her own time and space that you might be tempted to turn it off. Don't, but if you have it on tape, you may wish to fast forward. The second third of the movie is a never-ending cliche. As a reward, the ending is rich, vibrant, and celebratory.

After having seen Louis Malle "Crackers", we thought the director might have bad luck with that film, but viewing "Vie Privee", his 1962 effort that deals with fame and being in the limelight, one wonders what did attract him to get involved in this project. Granted, the dubbed English version that was presented recently on cable hasn't kept well and the translated dialog is horrible. The director collaborated with Jean Paul Rappeneau and Jean Ferry in the screen play, which might have made more sense in the original version that what it does in the one we saw.

The story about the beautiful Jill, who at first is seen as wanting to be a ballerina, changes without any explanation as this young woman is "discovered" for the movies, something that even for France, never occurs in such a quick fashion, and we can't buy it. Then at the pinnacle of her fame, Jill is thrown into despair as she can't cope with the invading horde of paparazzi that hound her and don't let her live a normal life. Jill runs back home to Geneva to be with her mother and then she turns into Fabio, who was seeing her best friend.

The film is tedious, at best. Marcello Mastroianni and Brigitte Bardot appear to be going through the motions, but actually there is no chemistry between them. These two attractive stars seem to have been cast just for their allure to fans, but actually they never connect.

One would have thought that Mastrioanni and Bardot would make 'beautiful music together'. However, this is mostly a self-indulgent treatment that could be part of the problem. Bardot's narcissistic behavior was either excellent acting or her real-life behavior.

I loved this movie for the beautiful scenes of Geneva and Spoleto, Italy. I've never seen how they do these wonderful operatic festivals and I really liked it. Georgeous technicolor. However, I could not find this movie reviewed in any of my review books: perhaps it's known by another name.

It is never clear what illness Bardot has in this movie....could have been a nervous breakdown, could have been flu, who knows? If you like looking at beautiful people, and georgous scenery, rent it. Otherwise, don't waste your time.

It was the dubbed version that I saw of this dreary little story about an actress (BB) who finds out, as is almost always the way, that her internal happiness is a sacrificial lamb to fame. Certainly good-looking - with La Bardot at her most luscious how could it not be? - but never very compelling.

The ending is, however, notable for going waaaaaay over the top. (Has anyone noticed how many Brigitte Bardot movies have unhappy endings?)

I have seen quite a few Bardot movies and I have enjoyed all of them,...until now. She is simply much more competent than the material she was given in this film. Essentially, she plays a parody of herself--a young woman who suddenly achieves super star status. There is so much commotion over her, that she is mauled where ever she goes and her life spins out of control. So far, the plot isn't all that bad. However, Bardot responds to this by behaving like a pouty kid starring in a grade school play--by fainting, crying and over-dramatizing everything! The part was poorly written and it was up to the director to elicit something more. However, this one dimensional performance just goes on and on and the film becomes a very nice to look at bore. With Louis Malle, Bardot and Mastroianni, I sure expected more than a dull mess.

On top of all my other complaints, this video from MGM was dubbed. I hate dubbed films but especially ones like this where the voices sound so fake. The narrator, in particular, sounds almost robotic--very flat and mechanical. If I had watched the subtitled version, no doubt my score would have been a bit higher.

Malle was an accomplished director of varied taste -- witness Pretty Baby (1977), a study in adolescent prostitution, and Au revoir les enfants (1986), a devastating account of youth in a private school in collaborationist France (with autobiographical hints.) But in Vie privee (1962) -- and please, it is Vie privee, not La vie privee (there is a difference) he achieved a dazzling, virtuosic, and at times subtle, at times hypnotic study of a movie starlet's sudden rise and precipitous fall from the limelight; her intense ambition, hiding a neurotic self-love, seems to evaporate as her life enters a new phase, becoming involved with a friend's former lover whom she had looked to for help. Bardot is captivating: she fills the screen, by turns stunning, radiant, and brooding, playing the role as though it were her life's story; add a suave and elegant Marcello Mastroianni as the glitterati who hides the fallen starlet from public view, and you have an electric mix. Watch the film in French with subtitles, please: only the original French conveys the cynical boredom of Jill (Bardot's character) and the paparazzi who swarm around her. And watch it also for Henri Decae's camera -- how it jumps from face to floor, cropping a doorway so that Bardot fills it, for example! -- and for Bernard Evein's glorious saturated colors. And the account of the Verdi Requiem at the Spoleto Festival makes a nice counterpoint to Jill's mundane existence with Fabio (Mastroianni). Oh -- the 'difference' mentioned in the French title is that without the 'La' ('the') vie privee carries a suggestion of 'a deprived life' as well as 'a private life.' Compare to the American version, called 'A Very Private Affair'!

Another reviewer mentioned nouvelle vague and it's true this film stinks of French New Wave. Of course the time was really the style's zenith when even boring pretentious garbage was treated like great art. Hard to take is the acting style that seems to come with the movement -very flat and anti-emotional - a little too Neo-realist for most tastes especially in America where actors tend to chew the scenery. Heck Tom Cruise apparently chews the scenery in ordinary life or at least on talk shows.

However I found there was a kind of chemistry and disturbing reality in Bardot's portrayal of the sex kitten. She was one moment almost catatonic and another bubbly. But how contemporary to see the star as a kind of trapped animal like a fox with dogs and hunters in pursuit. One could see this movie being remade with Brittany or another of the modern celebutantes in the starring role. Was Bardot playing herself? Well isn't that the kind of truth we look for in art? Malle could have been alluding to Marilyn or any modern celebrity caught in the maelstrom of fame. The relationship with Mastroanni seemed especially perceptive. He wants to protect her, but she wants to live and she can't. Certainly think Brittney could relate to this one especially to Jill's own mother selling her out to the press. We've seen that one lately, haven't we.

Not a fun movie but one that stays with you and that's rare these days.

This movie did a great job of showing the French lifestyle and the time during which it was made. Most of the comments here are negative, but I thought this was one of the best movies I've seen in many months.

Jill's daily life, shown in the opening sequence when she travels by boat and bicycle to see her mother and various friends, is a wonderful example of European life where things are much prettier and healthier than in the US. Individuals are free to be with nature without making a conscious effort to do so.

The story of the movie is OK, not great, but certainly ahead of its time in the portrayal of the media culture. Diana Princess of Wales should have watched this movie.

A nice plot, great acting from Bardot and Mastroianni and the superb cinematography by Henri Decaë make this movie a solid piece of work. Especially the huge close-ups of Brigitte give it something extra.

Not Bardot's best movie but certainly worth watching.

In 1961,BB was the biggest star France had ever had.Never in the history of French cinema an actress had crystallized around her such an adulation..but also so much hatred.One scene sums up everything;in an elevator ,Jill (BB) meets a cleaning lady who insults her,calls her whore and tells her that while she is playing around,her brother is fighting in Algeria.This woman of the people epitomizes what a lot of common men used to think circa 1960.Like in Clouzot's "la vérité" ,as an user wrote,the people is judging Bardot.

"Vie privée" is looked upon as one of Louis Malle's weakest efforts and it's probably unfair.He did much worse later ("le souffle au coeur"(1971).Its hints at Bardot's own life seem dated now but they inspire its vital extremism:Jill (BB) becomes a big star and it's a hellish life which begins.The scene when Jill is tracked down in her own house by journalists is barely fiction:in her memoirs,BB tells that German tourists' tour in Saint-Tropez included her house's visit!!The movie has two parts;the first one is the rise of the star and her efforts to escape from the maddening crowd:Louis Malle uses too much voice over,and a telegraphic style,très nouvelle vague.The second part depicts her relationship with a handsome Italian (Mastroianni),but even in a foreign country she's got to hide in a bedroom.The movie turns a bit pretentious ,with pompous music -from an opera Mastroianni is directing-;and after the rise,comes the fall (in every sense of the term).

BB was never a bimbo (une ravissante idiote) but a clever sensitive woman.We feel it in Malle's work.Watch it for her.

Reviewers have suggested that this is not among the best of Malle's output and that the two principals lack the fire of real heterosexual passion.

The second objection is perfectly right, because Jill seems incapable of a grown-up relationship with a man, just as she seems incapable of pursuing any worthwhile career beyond that of international sex-symbol. Being highly desirable and readily available may be huge fun in your teens and early twenties but does not lead to a fulfilling existence. Her trajectory is tragic, beauty that offers not life but a hollow illusion of life.

While Fabio cannot resist what he finds in his bed (few straight men could), his feelings for Jill seem more pity than lust. He wants to protect her from endless exploitation by others and from her own immaturity. But, having gained an international reputation for the magazine he edits and the play he is producing, he is not going to sacrifice his hard-won status for a bimbo. He is creative, adding to the world's culture, while she is merely decorative.

A relationship between two characters like this will be short of fire, and it would be Hollywoodian falsity to pretend that they are merely consumed with passion for each other.

As for the place of this piece in Malle's very varied body of work, his non-documentary dramas differ widely from each other with few overt links. Here one has to consider his own evolution: an artist's fourth picture made at age 30 does not compare with a mature and reflective masterpiece like "Au revoir les enfants" made at age 55. Films appreciated in Europe can be lost in America, particularly if mutilated by tone-deaf dubbing and puritanical cutting. Also, I would suggest, we might separate films set in the past or an imaginary future from films set in and therefore commenting on the present.

To show the real superstar Brigitte Bardot as a fictional empty superstar, virtually playing herself (compared with her more nuanced rôle for Godard a year later in "Le Mépris"), is satirical, poignant, and even, dare I say it, darkly comic. If you don't get the joke, though many would have in 1962, you may not rate the film highly.