Showing posts with label Yves Montand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yves Montand. Show all posts

Friday, 28 November 2014

Under French spell

A simple Aussie girl, as one of my friends and myself would like to see me, is going through another period of foreign fascination. After Poland and Italy the time came for France and French.
Coincidentally two things happened at the same time. I went returned to reading the autobiography of Simone Signoret  and saw the film My Old Lady. The book and the film made me think fondly and warmly about France and my French memories flooded my feelings.  Finesse and sophistication of French ways of expressing themselves, dressing and thinking has been alluring to me in my years of youth. Looks that there is still some of the fondness left.

Polish people looked up to French ways for many years. I was brought up on French books and French films. English literature was not that widely read by comparison to French and Italian. Now I see how much France was oriented towards communism, most of French intellectuals were communists or at least charmed by it. Their thoughts and ideology supported official Polish believes and propaganda. I guess availability of French literature was one of very few benefits of being in the Soviet bloc.

My first film with Simone Signoret  was Casque d’Or – Golden Helmet. It made a very big impression on me and I remember many details of this remarkable movie evening. It was in the beautiful Jurata, small holiday place on a peninsula that narrow that in places one can see the Baltic sea and the Bay of Puck across. Memories are back and I feel dreamy. But today I am not writing about Jurata, it is about French influence. So ad rem (I am showing of my non existing Latin).

Once in a while a movable cinema came to show films in open air on a wall of one of the pensions.  Most of the holidaying people brought their collapsible chairs to place them in the forest facing the wall where the film magic was going to happen. Such happy times! Casque d’Or is a love story about a prostitute and two Apache gang leaders. A tragic story telling about love that lasted four days and finished with a guillotine execution of the hero. I was in tears for at least half of the film that did not seem appropriate for a fourteen years old girl, I was at the time. But if I was not allowed to see the film then, I wonder if it would move me that much today or leave such strong memories. Thank you my understanding and romantic mother for letting me to see the film!

                                                       


Simone Signoret was married to Yves Montand a famous French actor and a singer. While reading the bigraphy, I almost heard his voice singing romantically and sadly in the background. I selected for my potential readers the song and the clip of Autumn Leaves which symbolically shows the story of the love triangle Simone Signoret, Yves Montand and Marilyn Monroe.  It is a bit ambiguous who he sings about as his love who will stay in his memory for ever. The marriage and friendship between Signoret and Montand lasted to the end of her life. The love of Simone Signoret changed into a sad disappointment when she realised the romance between her husband and the most desirable woman of her times. This was very French, in my opinion, acceptance of infidelity. Something got broken in her though and changed their relationship for ever and that actually contradicts acceptance.

The My Old Lady is also about a ménage a trios which gave a start to the story. This has a happy end though. Ah, this French acceptance of superiority of romance over loyalty... The film has bad reviews and I agree that the plot is predictable and it is not played brilliantly, but quite well. How it cannot be if the main characters are played by Maggie Smith, Kristin Scott  Thomas and Kevin Klein?


"To good health" - she says  provocatively
 What I liked most about the film, as I did like it a lot, were disjointed scenes with French flavour and its very subtle, wicked  humour. I loved the brocanteur (flea market dealer) – most likely Polish origin as he mentions speaking Polish among other languages – avoiding buying antiques of older age in favour of more modern twenties century chairs. Better business, I guess. I loved the doctor who exchanges her skill for English lessons. And I loved the  real estate agent explaining the astonishing viager  system and saying that he himself lives in the blood of Paris. This turned out to be a bark on Seine. He cordially invites the hero for a drink at his place when he sees him passing. I love the scenes which those characters but my favourite is the aria La ci darem la mano form Don Giovanni so unexpected and out of context. I loved it and built my own context to fit it.