At some point in our lives, unbeknownst or not, we’ve all come across the Chanel brand, whether we’ve pressed our noses against its store window, staring longingly at the garments like a lifestyle we wished we had but could not afford, or seen that infamous photo of a glamorous Jackie-O, in vogue, decked out in a stark pink Chanel suit. It comes as no surprise that Coco Avant Chanel was one of this year’s most anticipated films, especially amongst the ladies.

We follow Chanel’s life from the very beginning well before the moniker, Coco, was given to her. Her early days were tainted with abandonment; she lost her mother, and was sent to an orphanage by her father. From there, the biopic film drags us through a few dollops of tragedy and strife, and a love-triangle between the two leading men in her life, namely, playboy Arthur ‘Boy’ Capel played by Alessandro Nivola who financed her first store, and Etienne Balsan, a wealthy heir played by Benoît Poelvoorde responsible for giving her a home and consequently opening up her eyes to upmarket fashion trends. The movie ends just before she became Chanel – the godmother of haute couture.

I guess a part of me expected a fairy tale-type feature – girl has a dream, girl is marred by seemingly insurmountable obstacles, but a few life-changing sprinkles of lucky dust and unprecedented talent, girl triumphs to become an inspiration for those who would follow after her. It’s a tale as old as time – but not Coco’s.

Coco Avant Chanel is a less enchanting, more dark fairy tale version of your typical rise of a celebrity features. To a certain extent it was, dare I say it, boring. At some point, I thought perhaps a movie portraying Coco’s life après Chanel would have been more captivating. But after mulling over it for a few days, I’ve decided that I quite enjoyed it for purely these reasons.

Firstly, under Anne Fontaine’s direction, the picture takes you back – really takes you back – to 1920s France with a mix of vintage tones and garish outfits, so much so that the film actually begins to reek of the bourgeoisie and the lingering aromas of Gauloises. Without wanting to sound wanky, there are moments in this film reminiscent of Rembrandt’s oil paintings; the use of light and darkness, alongside poignant sepia-esque tones, captures the mostly Stoic, sometimes saturnine, yet charming and intriguing Coco Chanel with dramatic beauty.

Secondly, what is both great and not so great about this film is its utmost dedication to the life of Gabrielle Chanel. This film isn’t so much about the clothes, the glamour, the celebrity – there is no hint of grotesque Hollywood in it. It is essentially about the woman, whose unorthodox demeanour made her fascinating and exceptional first. Après Chanel, the world would discover her extraordinariness through her fashion creations. Having said that, I felt like the portrayal of her early life was missing a certain oomph that grabs you by the nuts or the boobies and says, “This is interesting!” For one thing, there was hardly any reference to Chanel’s passion for clothes/design. Instead, the fashion world seemed more like a place she stumbled into by default via an innate gift of remarkable taste, and the necessity to tweak her own ensembles to match the upper class society she was unwillingly a part of. Yet there can be no denying that she undoubtedly had at least some passion for design.

Lastly, all hail Audrey Tautou, whom with a single smile – though few and far between – managed to express elation that was both heart-warming and irresistibly endearing at the same time. Her well timed wit, boisterous dispositions, androgynous sex appeal and moody depictions of Coco Chanel, made the film (kinda) worth watching.

Rating: Wouldn’t watch it again.