In the opening scene, Maurice Ravel [Raphaël Personnaz] takes the dancer Ida Rubinstein [Jeanne Balibar] into a factory, explaining that the clatter of machines can be music, a provocative idea that foreshadows his quest to shape sound as modern art.
The film then rewinds to 1903, when Ravel’s bid for a scholarship falls short. He is drawn to an alluring oriental melody outside, an inspiration so strong that a reckless moment leads him to stumble from a window and injure himself, a turning point that marks how fragile luck can be for a composer trying to find his voice.
Jumping ahead to 1927, a reception brings Ravel face to face with Ida Rubinstein, who declares that he will write ballet music for her. As the work begins to take shape, he moves among powerful women who energize or challenge him—piano teacher and pianist Marguerite Long [Emmanuelle Devos], and the artist‑muse Misia Sert [Doria Tillier], a difficult marriage, yet a magnetic draw toward Ravel’s evolving sound.
Before an American tour, he suggests to Ida Rubinstein the idea of orchestrating Iberia by Isaac Albéniz, a move that would push his music into new textures. In America, jazz reaches his ears, widening his curiosity about rhythm and form. In a tour interview, he explains a patient, almost stubborn belief: an idea can take years to mature before it becomes something new to write.
Upon returning to Paris, Ida Rubinstein continues to push him to compose, yet he grapples with writer’s block. To escape the pressure, he retreats to the seaside and spends time with Misia Sert, seeking a fresh emotional and artistic perspective. Ida also toys with the idea of commissioning Stravinsky for the ballet, but the pair ultimately narrows the plan to a ballet around 17 minutes in length.
Then comes the breakthrough: Ravel identifies the core theme that will become Boléro, deciding to loop a one‑minute idea seventeen times before the finale. He presents Boléro to Ida Rubinstein in the factory, interpreting it as an ode to modernity and a metaphor for the contemporary world. Ida is enthusiastic about staging the piece in a factory setting, though she later minimizes the factory concept and infuses the dance with heightened eroticism, which unsettles Ravel.
The film shifts to more personal recollections: Ravel recalls leaving wartime medical service to visit his mother, learning of her illness, and then facing her death, alongside memories of his five defeats at the Prix de Rome. These memories haunt him as Boléro rises to prominence.
At its premiere, Boléro becomes a dramatic triumph. Ravel confesses to Ida Rubinstein that Boléro may possess an erotic edge he hadn’t noticed before, a nuance that adds a new layer of meaning to the piece. > Boléro might have something erotic about it, something he himself hadn't noticed until then.
Meanwhile, the composer’s broader career unfolds: Paul Wittgenstein commissions a Piano Concerto for the Left Hand, while Ravel works on a separate Piano Concerto in G major and struggles to concentrate. A difficult rehearsal culminates in a collapse, and a friend named Cipa [Vincent Perez] is told that his neurologist believes he cannot simply transcribe the music in his head, complicating a possible brain surgery. Marguerite, who has grown close to him, plays a recording of Boléro, which he cannot recognize as his own work at first; she then helps him to the hospital. In a dream, Boléro continues to haunt his imagination, a reminder of the delicate balance between genius, vulnerability, and the modern world it seeks to illuminate.
