For all its makers care, the content of Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky might be a mere footnote in the biographies of each of its early 19^th-century protagonists. Unlike the recent Coco Before Chanel, this is not a film encumbered with a trite obsession for biographical completeness. Less a dual-biopic than stunning sensual experience, the film immerses us in its ecstatic blend of music and sumptuous period visuals, opening – if for no other reason than to put us in a trance – with an extended, mesmerising recreation of the 1913 premiere of Stravinsky’s revolutionary ballet, The Rite of Spring. As it happens, Chanel (Anna Mouglalis) is an interested member among the shocked Parisian audience.

Fast forward seven years and the fashion artist now stands as a successful yet desolate figure, after the tragic death of Boy (her major love interest in Coco Before Chanel). When she was formally introduced to the genteelly impoverished Russian composer (played by Mads Mikkelsen), Chanel offers to be his patron and invites his family to move into her gorgeously decorated country villa. The pair’s longing for each other quickly gives way to a passionate affair that lasts for years – all under the watchful eyes of Stravinsky’s bed-ridden wife, Catherine (Yelena Morozova), whom he professes to love.

Like the constantly evolving, kaleidoscopic patterns that bookend the film over the opening and closing credits, Kounen’s film offers an atmospheric impression randomly sampled from its subjects’ remarkable lives – an intention that’s all but confirmed by a brief black-and-white dream sequence after the end credits. Seemingly trapped inside their gigantic egos and by an unshakable sense of guilt, the two idiosyncratic personalities never properly put their mutual affection into words, resulting in long, wordless passages that haunt the remainders of their lives. It’s all too beautiful to be real.

Edmund Lee

Dir Jan Kounen, Category III, 119 mins, opens Thursday 7