Mr. Irresistible

His only hit in America, Je t'aime (moi non plus), contained a simulated female orgasm (and, appropriately, peaked on the Billboard charts at No. 69). The song, which featured the vocals of Jane Birkin, was banned in several countries and denounced by the Pope. His reggae version of La Marseillaise offended right-wing French veterans, who saw it as a desecration of their national anthem.

Provocation was only one dimension of Serge Gainsbourg, a man who since his death in 1991 enjoys 'godlike status among francophones.'

And that was only his music — television was a whole other outlet. He burned hundreds of francs on a live broadcast. Then he topped himself on another television program: sitting near a young Whitney Houston, he told the host, "I want to f--k her."

Yet provocation was only one dimension of Serge Gainsbourg, a man who since his death in 1991 enjoys "godlike status among francophones, " according to Nicolas Tittley, a VJ with Montreal-based French music channel MusiquePlus. In fact, Gainsbourg's popularity extends well beyond the francosphere.

International audiences now have an opportunity to (re-) acquaint themselves with the French singer-songwriter through the documentary Gainsbourg: L'homme qui aimait les femmes (The Man Who Loved Women). Produced for French TV this year, the film is experiencing an "unexpected second life," according to director Pascal Forneri. Having already screened in Melbourne and New York, the doc is currently playing in Montreal; it premiered on Nov. 11 at Blue Sunshine, a new film centre, where it will screen again on Nov. 18.

The film expressly concerns his relationships with some of the most beautiful women of his day, including Brigitte Bardot and Jane Birkin. That, says Blue Sunshine co-founder Kier-La Janisse, "is the fresh angle" for audiences. Indeed, the all-new interviews with the various women comprise the film's heart. One of the most amusing and touching anecdotes comes from Birkin, who relates how her first night with Gainsbourg ended prematurely, with him falling asleep in a hotel room — nothing more happened.

Janisse first encountered the doc by accidentally stumbling across it online.

"My music fan acquaintances hadn't heard of it," she says. Formerly based in Winnipeg, Janisse "bugged" Forneri for permission to play the film. "We even offered to translate and subtitle it ourselves." Which is what they did, with Winnipeg DJ and indie filmmaker Damien Ferland tackling the former, and fellow Winnipeg filmmaker Clint Enns the latter. (To their knowledge, their translation was the first.)

Whatever its origins, the film isn't merely "for collectors and fans," Janisse says.

"It contains a lot of interview footage from French TV; there's tons I'd never seen before," she says. "Really, someone needs to pick this movie up: it's that good. It's shocking that our little theatre is premiering it in Quebec."

What is it about Gainsbourg that still fascinates? A 2007 Vanity Fair article connected Je t'aime, released in 1969, to the creation of disco. His music is well-appreciated by younger artists — the 2006 tribute album Monsieur Gainsbourg Revisited featured Franz Ferdinand, Cat Power and Canada's own Feist. He's also been repeatedly sampled by Beck.

"Gainsbourg has a strong cult following worldwide," Forneri says. Tittley feels he belongs in the company of the greatest singer-songwriters. Janisse likens him to Scott Walker, Tom Waits — and yes, even Leonard Cohen.

"He said that ‘songwriting is a minor art that f---s major art,'" Forneri says. "Meaning that songs are silly and easy, and more successfully exposed than painting or poetry. But he did something great: he bridged a gap between high and low brow. He was as popular with taxi drivers as snobby intellectuals. People really loved him."

Classically trained, Gainsbourg incorporated a diversity of musical styles, from jazz to rock to electro pop; his version of La Marseillaise, for example, was recorded with leading reggae producers Sly and Robbie. Gainsbourg always remained cutting edge, embracing a wide variety of musical trends. Hence, Tittley declares, his music is "as fresh as it ever was."

Indeed, the tracks Gainsbourg cut with Sly and Robbie earn company next to the best of Peter Tosh or Burning Spear. And just try playing Je t'aime for the unfamiliar — it still shocks. (In 2005, the Observer Music Monthly feature of  The Guardian rated it No. 1  on its list of top 10 x-rated records.)

And then there was the persona. "He embodies a French cliché: the drinker and Gauloises cigarette-smoker," Tittley says. Many thought he was just a sleazy character, but as the doc illustrates, there was a character all right: a consciously constructed and lovingly maintained one. That was "Gainsbarre," Gainsbourg's alter ego, which he impishly credited for his most outrageous antics.

"It was really taking over by the end," Tittley laughs. "He was like an anarchist."

But was it also who he was as an artist? "I find it incredibly courageous to stay stern in the face of criticism, if you feel you're artistically right," Forneri says. "And he was a consummate artist: very honest, never a follower, and risking a lot."

On the other hand, some of Gainsbourg's provocative stunts may have overshadowed his more sensitive work. Consider the songs he wrote in 1990 for Vanessa Paradis, the French singer and wife of Johnny Depp.

"He helped turn her career around," Tittley says. "She became more than a bubblegum pop star. He gave her sexy, intelligent material. But it was also very… feminine. It was an opportunity for him to express another side."

So who was the real Gainsbourg? "Everybody we talked to said how sweet, generous, and polite he was privately," Forneri says. "Behind the provocateur was a very shy, prudish person."

"He really was one of those guys women wanted and men wanted to be," Janisse says. "But it had nothing to do with his looks — it was how he carried himself."

Gainsbourg: L'homme qui aimait les femmes plays in Montreal on Nov. 18.

Kenton Smith is a writer based in Winnipeg.