How should one categorize Chèri? Is it a romance? Maybe a comedy? How about tragedy? It has aspects of all of those genres. My perspective treats it as a tragedy, because in the end, we see the wreckage of lives that can find no happiness.

Based on a novel by Colette, the film focuses on Lèa, a turn-of-the-century courtesan who is beginning to get a bit long in the tooth for that profession. Certainly she is still beautiful and skilled. But she has come to think that a bed to oneself is one of the great pleasures of life.

At the request of her colleagues, Madame Peloux, Lèa takes in (and seduces) Peloux's son, Chèri. Lèa has always thought of herself as a kind of godmother to Chèri. Lèa is tired of being a kept woman of important men. Chèri has grown up in the presence of various courtesans, so he feels at home with Lèa. They settle into life together for six years. Theirs is a comfortable routine of day-to-day life. They are in some ways an "old married couple."

There is something of a reversal of gender roles in their relationship. Chèri is a kept man. He has no job or income. Lèa takes care of him and buys the things he wants—just as she has been taken care of by men all these years. Chèri is the one who lounges around in silk pajamas and longs for a string of pearls. Lèa is well versed in the ways of the world; Chèri is, while not innocent, at least a bit inexperienced.

When Madame Peloux arranges a marriage for Chèri their life together unravels. Even though part of Lèa's profession is the ability not to fall in love, she has indeed become totally enamored with Chèri. As Chèri goes off on a honeymoon, Lèa goes to Biarritz to try to fill the void with a new young man, but it just isn't the same. Meanwhile, Chèri is pining away for Lèa as well.

Will they get back together? Can they find happiness in spite of the state of affairs? Can true love conquer all? Well, that's the romantic aspect of the story.

The comic aspect is found in some of the conversations, especially between Lèa and Madame Peloux (and a few other semiretired courtesans). The jealousies that are obvious in this group and the backhanded compliments they give one another remind us of the foibles of life—especially among those who seem so self-satisfied.

But finally, we recognize the tragedy of this story. It isn't so much the way the demands of life may get in the way of love and happiness as it is the tragic nature of what is mistaken for love in the story. These are all extremely self-centered people. Chèri is the epitome of narcissism. This is the way of life he has learned from his mother and from Lèa. The characters in the story all seemed doomed to never finding the kind of fulfillment that love brings—not because they cannot be loved, but because they cannot understand the mutuality that makes love flourish. For them love means possessing another. They don't understand that in love one gives oneself to another.

Lèa sums up their lives when she says, "You have everything you can possibly want, but none of it means a thing." Such a sentiment is not foreign to time. One of the great tragedies of life is that so often people try to find happiness in accumulation only to find they can never buy enough to make them happy. When we only define our lives by looking at ourselves, we are bound to come up wanting. We fulfill ourselves not by filling ourselves, but by emptying ourselves (Philippians 2:1-8).