Pete Doherty makes his first big-screen outing in this sterile stab at Alfred de Musset’s 1836 confessional.
It must have seemed like a good idea at the time, casting the former Libertines frontman as Octave, the debauched Parisian, but the novelty soon wears off.
Suffocated by Sylvie Verheyde’s lifeless direction, Doherty’s so ill at ease you’d think his britches were too tight.
A love story between Octave and his cousin Brigitte (Charlotte Gainsbourg), it doesn’t help that - in a French film - all dialogue is in English.
The result is dusty, drab and dreary.
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