Golden Eighties Review: Enchanting Musical

Golden Eighties is Chantal Akerman’s intriguing dive into musical comedy, where she explores themes such as feminism, consumerism, and the patriarchy.

Somehow, this giddy, intelligent musical is both drastically different and starkly similar to Jeanne Dielman—a fascinating juxtaposition that highlights Akerman as one of the defining voices of cinema.

Perhaps the most blatant and simple similarity is that both these films largely take place in one setting: Jeanne Dielman is mostly confined to the apartment of the titular character, whilst Golden Eighties is, until the very last moments, restricted to a shopping mall. Across this retail establishment, Akerman flits from a variety of characters and their intersecting relationships: barista Sylvie (Miriam Boyer, Mesrine) reads letters from her boyfriend, who has moved to Canada for employment; Jeanne (Delphine Seyrig, Jeanne Dielman) and Monsieur Schwartz (Charles Denner, Z) run a clothing shop; the hair salon opposite has a large cohort of female employees, including Lili (Fanny Cottençon, L’étoile du Nord) and Mado (Lio, The Dead Mother). It’s an arena ripe for drama and comedy, mined to perfection by Akerman.

The main crux of each relationship is mostly romantic. The arrival of Eli (John Berry, ‘Round Midnight), an American man who had been Jeanne’s lover in the aftermath of World War Two, is the most compelling subplot. His sudden appearance causes conflict within Jeanne; her marriage to Monsieur Schwartz hasn’t been sprinkled with supreme happiness, but it’s a long-term commitment that she can’t bear to leave, despite her resurfacing feelings for Eli. Meanwhile, Jeanne and Monsieur Schwartz’s son, Robert (Nicolas Tronc, Guardian of the Night) is the ultimate slimeball; he is rejected by Lili, and in turn becomes engaged to Mado. Infidelity ensues, and here Akerman, via catchy musical numbers composed by Marc Hérouet, is able to deftly explore feminist themes in great detail. Golden Eighties is uproariously funny throughout, but also deeply cutting, deep-diving further into other themes such as consumerism.

Hérouet’s compositions are catchy, but perhaps not as memorable as one would like. They’ll get you tapping your foot and laughing with glee when hearing them, but will likely fade in the memory after the credits roll. During Golden Eighties, however, they are a glorious minefield of comedy and farce. The ensemble of the women in the hair salon add so much to each number, with little asides and irrepressible energy, whilst a male quartet, who seem to spend all their time drinking coffee and eavesdropping, add amusing moments with over-the-top ditties. The songs themselves might not be memorable, but the energy of each certainly is.

Despite Akerman’s adeptness at stepping into the musical and comedic genres, her overriding skills at creating more serious dramas is apparent on numerous occasions throughout Golden Eighties. At times, the tone is uneven, the mood so glowing and exaggerated that it sits oddly on screen. This is exacerbated by Francine Sandberg’s (Les Rendez-vous d’Anna) editing, which on the whole is excellent, but at times adds to the jarring nature of Golden Eighties, with some cuts not coming soon enough and scenes lingering awkwardly for just a second or two too long. Nevertheless, these occasional blips don’t detract from the overall charm and incisive commentaries of Golden Eighties, a highpoint of the 80s for the versatile Akerman.

A 4K restoration of Golden Eighties will be screened at the BFI Southbank on 13-28 February, 2025 as part of a near complete retrospective season of Chantal Akerman’s films, ‘Chantal Akerman: Adventures in Perception’, throughout February and March. The film will also be in a UK cinema touring package of Akerman titles at venues across the UK, including Ciné Lumière, Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) and Glasgow Film Theatre.