'Cheri' woos the heart with a visual feast

Sometimes, on screen or off, it's hard to move beyond surface beauty — something, or someone, can be so exquisite it's hard to see it as more than just a pretty face. Stephen Frears' new movie, "Cheri," set in the Paris of a century ago, could easily slip into this fate; it's so ravishing you want to buy it dinner and send a sentimental note the next day. Each costume (by Consolata Boyle) is an intricate triumph of haute couture; each garden scene (shot by Darius Khondji), with its clouds of color, looks like a Monet; each lovingly detailed interior (designed by Alan MacDonald) is a Belle Époque valentine. And the couple at its center, Michelle Pfeiffer and the very Heathcliff-ish Rupert Friend, don't look so bad either.

Based on the novels "Chéri" and "The Last of Chéri" (though almost entirely from the former) by Colette and intelligently adapted by Christopher Hampton, "Cheri" is a May-December love story, about a 50ish courtesan, Léa de Lonval (Pfeiffer), and her three-decades-younger lover Chéri, the son of a rival (Kathy Bates). At its start, a plummy voice-over (Frears himself, uncredited) tells us that Léa, nearing retirement, had thus far avoided the most dangerous aspect of her profession: falling in love. And then she and Chéri connect, playing an elegant cat-and-mouse game in his mother's salon. "Come here," he says, and she slowly walks up to him, as an intoxicating waltz plays.

Six years later, they're still together, but complications have arisen: Chéri is to be married, to another courtesan's daughter (Felicity Jones). Léa, whose life with Chéri seemed to exist independent of time, lets him go, affecting an airy indifference. "Being with someone for six years is like following your husband to the colonies," she says to a friend. "By the time you come back, you've forgotten what to wear and nobody remembers who you are." But their hold on each other is stronger than either realized — or anybody else.

The story feels a little slight, and it's not always easy — on the page or in the film — to understand why Léa loves the petulant, immature Chéri. Nor does Friend, who's promising but can't always overcome a tendency to let his bangs do the acting, quite measure up to Pfeiffer. This wonderfully gifted actress, whose beauty has sometimes distracted from her abilities, here makes "Cheri" something rare and haunting. As in her previous Frears/Hampton collaboration "Dangerous Liaisons," she's a woman caught up in and surprised by love. Léa, a shrewd businesswoman (she's invested in oil stocks), has built herself a comfortable life without surprises; the force of her feelings toward Chéri — and, by extension, toward youth — rocks her to the core.

Frears, wisely, ends on a long close-up of Pfeiffer's face, as lovely as any landscape, and yet infinitely more complicated.

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com