Just once I’d like to see an artist’s biography made into a movie without excessive attention to her sexual indiscretions and/or substance abuse problems. Guess I’m going to have to keep waiting. In a way it’s fortunate that Edith Piaf destroyed her body with alcohol and drugs, because this movie whips back and forth in the timeline of her life so frequently that her physical disintegration is the only way the audience can tell if it’s 1935 or 1960. Marion Cotillard does a superior job in the lead role, but the rest of the production is dingy and uninteresting. As I’ve remarked about other biopics, I’d rather be in the audience for a brilliant performance (of which Piaf had many) than a bystander at a car wreck. See if desperate
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