Lovers of French cinema come clean, and to my rescue.
Who hasn't quite enjoyed a film in the language of Molière while thinking that if this were in English, it would be dismissed as pornography or trash, or both? Gérard Depardieu, not to everyone's taste though I find him a likeable mixture of vulgarity and rough-diamond charm, has been in at least a couple of movies fitting one or other description. So has Béatrice Dalle. The thought occurred as I was smarting from a friend's reaction of utter horror at my admission that I had quite enjoyed The Holiday, the lightweight story of two women - played by Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz - who swap homes on either side of the Atlantic for a fortnight. Not even a defensive aside - "I know it's fluffy but watching it in French I really liked it (even if I haven't much time for Diaz or Jude Law" - did me any good. As far as my friend was concerned, I might as well have told her I had decided that line dancing was cool. Back came the reply: "I can't believe you liked it. I thought it was terrible....." Terrible, and just to rub it in, "apart, of course, from Jude Law who looked absolutely divine". I have not read any reviews in what the French like to call the Anglo-Saxon press, and almost certainly won't now, so have no idea if anyone, anywhere, watching in English, came away smiling. Perhaps someone can come up with an even more distressing example of a film that grew in stature, or seemed to, just because of the language. There is no similar excuse for having also enjoyed Mel Gibson's Apocalypto, since everyone sees it with subtitles from the Mayan dialect.
The Graun's recommendations, sadly, appear to carry little weight in
these parts.
The version we saw, with French subtitles, proved no Sunday afternoon
draw at Le Forum, a cinema tucked away in a small shopping centre just
along the coast at La Londes-les-Maures.
The man who took our money - only five euros each - also acted as usher
and projectionist. He'd have served the ice creams and popcorns, too,
had there been any.
As we entered the surprisingly large salle, he detected our
surprise at the row after row of empty seats. "Oui," he said with
resignation, "vous êtes quatre."
A little pessimistically, he'd reckoned without a late rush. By the
time the film started (only a few moments later since Le Forum doesn't
mess about with trailers and ads), we had grown to five.
Who hasn't quite enjoyed a film in the language of Molière while thinking that if this were in English, it would be dismissed as pornography or trash, or both? Gérard Depardieu, not to everyone's taste though I find him a likeable mixture of vulgarity and rough-diamond charm, has been in at least a couple of movies fitting one or other description. So has Béatrice Dalle. The thought occurred as I was smarting from a friend's reaction of utter horror at my admission that I had quite enjoyed The Holiday, the lightweight story of two women - played by Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz - who swap homes on either side of the Atlantic for a fortnight. Not even a defensive aside - "I know it's fluffy but watching it in French I really liked it (even if I haven't much time for Diaz or Jude Law" - did me any good. As far as my friend was concerned, I might as well have told her I had decided that line dancing was cool. Back came the reply: "I can't believe you liked it. I thought it was terrible....." Terrible, and just to rub it in, "apart, of course, from Jude Law who looked absolutely divine". I have not read any reviews in what the French like to call the Anglo-Saxon press, and almost certainly won't now, so have no idea if anyone, anywhere, watching in English, came away smiling. Perhaps someone can come up with an even more distressing example of a film that grew in stature, or seemed to, just because of the language. There is no similar excuse for having also enjoyed Mel Gibson's Apocalypto, since everyone sees it with subtitles from the Mayan dialect.
But at least here I am in authoritative company. The Guardian's
Peter Bradshaw, who must know what he's talking about since he is my
elder daughter's favourite critic and she works in film, overcame real
personal resistance to give it a four-star review.
"If people have got it in for Mel Gibson," he
wrote, "he has only himself to blame. His behaviour has been repulsive.
Everyone is prejudiced against his films. I am prejudiced against his
films. So the sentence following this is going to take me quite some
time to write, because between every keystroke, there will be a
three-minute pause while I clench my fists up to my temples and emit a
long growl of resentment and rage.
"Mel Gibson's Apocalypto is pathologically brilliant. It is bizarre,
stomach-turningly violent and frequently inspired."
The Graun's recommendations, sadly, appear to carry little weight in
these parts.
The version we saw, with French subtitles, proved no Sunday afternoon
draw at Le Forum, a cinema tucked away in a small shopping centre just
along the coast at La Londes-les-Maures.
The man who took our money - only five euros each - also acted as usher
and projectionist. He'd have served the ice creams and popcorns, too,
had there been any.
As we entered the surprisingly large salle, he detected our
surprise at the row after row of empty seats. "Oui," he said with
resignation, "vous êtes quatre."
A little pessimistically, he'd reckoned without a late rush. By the
time the film started (only a few moments later since Le Forum doesn't
mess about with trailers and ads), we had grown to five.
Labels: Apocalypto, Béatrice Dalle, Cameron Diaz, film, French, French cinema, Guardian, Gérard Depardieu, Jack Black, Jude Law, Kate Winslet, La Londe-les-Maures, Mel Gibson, Peter Bradshaw, The Holiday
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