Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts
Sunday, August 26, 2018
favorite movie #27: midnight in paris
Favorite movies that have had an impact on me - #27 - Midnight in Paris (2011) - As a writer and artist it's hard not to feel that Midnight in Paris was made for me. Owen Wilson is frustrated in work and in love, and the beauty of Paris is luring him to follow his true dream - to ditch his Hollywood screenwriting career and move to Paris to finish his novel, a la his idols F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. One evening, strolling and soaking in the city's beauty, a vintage Peugeot rolls up and whisks him away to the Paris of his dreams - the 1920s. He meets not only Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston) and Hemingway (Corey Stoll), but Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates), and a beautiful artist's muse named Adriana (Marion Cotillard). Gil has many adventures in the past, and who wouldn't want to meet their heroes? There are plenty of wonderful art in-jokes, including Gil suggesting to Luis Bunuel the plot of his classic film The Exterminating Angel. Midnight in Paris is a wonderful tribute to the city, art, love, and realizing that one can honor the past while living in the present.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
the crypt thief
Mark Pryor has released his second novel in the Hugo Marston mystery series, The Crypt Thief: A Hugo Marston Novel
. Pryor, currently an assistant district attorney in Austin, Texas, also has a true-crime blog D.A. Confidential, as well as authoring these set-in-Paris modern policiers.
American Hugo Marston is the head of security at the United States Embassy in Paris. During the course of his investigations into a mysterious double-murder at the famed tourist destination, the Père Lachaise cemetery, Hugo becomes convinced that it may be just one in a sequence of escalating murders — and there is no time to lose as the killer is counting down to a dangerous finale. He is sometimes helped, sometimes hindered, by his friend Tom Green, who is associated with the CIA, Paris policeman Capitaine Raul Garcia, and inquiring reporter and old flame Claudia de Roussillon.
What works:
The characters of Hugo and his local policeman friend Raul Garcia have a genuine rapport and are likable. They also share one of the best and suspenseful sequences in the book, when they are trapped together in a burning building.
What doesn’t work:
Hugo’s friend Tom is beyond annoying, and his ersatz love interest Claudia keeps turning up on cue and is irritating in the extreme. If Hugo and Claudia had any chemistry in the first book, The Bookseller
, it has long since been diluted.
I wasn’t completely convinced by Hugo’s Paris. The author and his hero seemed most comfortable when they were in the Père Lachaise cemetery, or out of town chasing clues. Familiar landmarks like Place Pigalle and the Moulin Rouge were visited or alluded to, but remained foggy background. This is not the sort of book that will make a Francophile exclaim, “Yes, that’s my Paris.”
The Crypt Thief would have been a more engaging read if Pryor had included more Paris history. Jane Avril, La Goulue, and the Moulin Rouge are alluded to as being central to the mystery, but then dropped as the focus turns to the outlandish and unbelievable villain and his increasingly stomach-turning crimes. Pryor chooses to follow his creepy killer and Hugo through a mythical subterranean Paris, while throwing in a flimsy terrorist subplot to make things even murkier.
The book’s pace moves quickly enough, and the central criminal, a sort-of serial killer who seems as interested in digging up dead bones as killing live bodies, is certainly repellant, in the tradition of Thomas Harris’ Hannibal Lecter and villains in Douglas Preston’s and Lincoln Child’s Agent Pendergast series (Relic, The Cabinet of Curiosities, The Book of the Dead, etc.), but he is hardly a criminal mastermind, or ultimately compelling. Maybe better luck next time. Hugo Marston is due to come back in an all new mystery — there is already a third book in the works, The Blood Promise, due to be released in January 2014. Hopefully Pryor will have Hugo ditch his boring friends Tom and Claudia and team up solely with Chief Garcia to solve the case.
Originally published on Blogcritics: Book Review: ‘The Crypt Thief: A Hugo Marston Novel,’ by Mark Pryor
. Pryor, currently an assistant district attorney in Austin, Texas, also has a true-crime blog D.A. Confidential, as well as authoring these set-in-Paris modern policiers. |
| Author Mark Pryor |
American Hugo Marston is the head of security at the United States Embassy in Paris. During the course of his investigations into a mysterious double-murder at the famed tourist destination, the Père Lachaise cemetery, Hugo becomes convinced that it may be just one in a sequence of escalating murders — and there is no time to lose as the killer is counting down to a dangerous finale. He is sometimes helped, sometimes hindered, by his friend Tom Green, who is associated with the CIA, Paris policeman Capitaine Raul Garcia, and inquiring reporter and old flame Claudia de Roussillon.
What works:
The characters of Hugo and his local policeman friend Raul Garcia have a genuine rapport and are likable. They also share one of the best and suspenseful sequences in the book, when they are trapped together in a burning building.
What doesn’t work:
Hugo’s friend Tom is beyond annoying, and his ersatz love interest Claudia keeps turning up on cue and is irritating in the extreme. If Hugo and Claudia had any chemistry in the first book, The Bookseller
, it has long since been diluted.I wasn’t completely convinced by Hugo’s Paris. The author and his hero seemed most comfortable when they were in the Père Lachaise cemetery, or out of town chasing clues. Familiar landmarks like Place Pigalle and the Moulin Rouge were visited or alluded to, but remained foggy background. This is not the sort of book that will make a Francophile exclaim, “Yes, that’s my Paris.”
The Crypt Thief would have been a more engaging read if Pryor had included more Paris history. Jane Avril, La Goulue, and the Moulin Rouge are alluded to as being central to the mystery, but then dropped as the focus turns to the outlandish and unbelievable villain and his increasingly stomach-turning crimes. Pryor chooses to follow his creepy killer and Hugo through a mythical subterranean Paris, while throwing in a flimsy terrorist subplot to make things even murkier.
The book’s pace moves quickly enough, and the central criminal, a sort-of serial killer who seems as interested in digging up dead bones as killing live bodies, is certainly repellant, in the tradition of Thomas Harris’ Hannibal Lecter and villains in Douglas Preston’s and Lincoln Child’s Agent Pendergast series (Relic, The Cabinet of Curiosities, The Book of the Dead, etc.), but he is hardly a criminal mastermind, or ultimately compelling. Maybe better luck next time. Hugo Marston is due to come back in an all new mystery — there is already a third book in the works, The Blood Promise, due to be released in January 2014. Hopefully Pryor will have Hugo ditch his boring friends Tom and Claudia and team up solely with Chief Garcia to solve the case.
Originally published on Blogcritics: Book Review: ‘The Crypt Thief: A Hugo Marston Novel,’ by Mark Pryor
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
murder in the rue dumas
Article first published as Book Review: Murder in the Rue Dumas: A Verlaque and Bonnet Mystery by M. L. Longworth on Blogcritics.
Penguin has released in paperback Murder in the Rue Dumas, the second in a series of detective novels by author M. L. Longworth featuring the Chief Magistrate of Aix-en-Provence, Judge Antoine Verlaque. The first novel, Death at the Chateau Bremont, centered around a family with old secrets and was a bit of a closed room murder mystery. For her second novel Longworth keeps the reader (mostly) in town, as a teacher at the University is murdered, and Verlaque, with the help of his law professor girlfriend Marine Bonnet, sorts out the clues to catch the killer.
The case centers around a prestigious academic scholarship, forged artwork, and professional reputations - all of which may have played a part in the murder of theology Professor Moutte. As much as most of their questions center around university life, Verlaque and Bonnet also have occasion to leave their beloved Aix and travel up and down the coast of southern France, to Paris, and take a side trip to Italy to solve the mystery. But more importantly, the reader is treated to the various dishes and especially the wines that the pair always find time sample during the course of their investigations.
Longworth deftly portrays a large cast of characters (some of them suspects), including theology students, professors, and friends and neighbors of Verlaque and Bonnet, including police commissioner Bruno Paulik, the chief magistrate's right hand. As interesting as the university milieu, and as intricate as the mystery are, what provides the most pleasure in reading Murder in the Rue Dumas is Longworth's description of Verlaque and Bonnet's daily lives - their up-and-down romance, their conversations, and their relationship to food and wine. The author vividly depicts the town of Aix-en-Provence, its markets, its citizens, and its glorious food. One can practically smell the freshly-baked croissants and savor the espresso on Verlaque's breakfast table.
It might add to the enjoyment of reading Murder in the Rue Dumas if one has taken a trip to the south of France, but it is certainly not necessary (although a map of Aix would have been welcome). The experience of reading Murder in the Rue Dumas is definitely enjoyable, whether one is a Francophile or not. And happily for fans of this delightful series is the news that the third book in the Verlaque and Bonnet series, Death in the Vines, is set to be released this July. Bon!
Penguin has released in paperback Murder in the Rue Dumas, the second in a series of detective novels by author M. L. Longworth featuring the Chief Magistrate of Aix-en-Provence, Judge Antoine Verlaque. The first novel, Death at the Chateau Bremont, centered around a family with old secrets and was a bit of a closed room murder mystery. For her second novel Longworth keeps the reader (mostly) in town, as a teacher at the University is murdered, and Verlaque, with the help of his law professor girlfriend Marine Bonnet, sorts out the clues to catch the killer.
The case centers around a prestigious academic scholarship, forged artwork, and professional reputations - all of which may have played a part in the murder of theology Professor Moutte. As much as most of their questions center around university life, Verlaque and Bonnet also have occasion to leave their beloved Aix and travel up and down the coast of southern France, to Paris, and take a side trip to Italy to solve the mystery. But more importantly, the reader is treated to the various dishes and especially the wines that the pair always find time sample during the course of their investigations.
Longworth deftly portrays a large cast of characters (some of them suspects), including theology students, professors, and friends and neighbors of Verlaque and Bonnet, including police commissioner Bruno Paulik, the chief magistrate's right hand. As interesting as the university milieu, and as intricate as the mystery are, what provides the most pleasure in reading Murder in the Rue Dumas is Longworth's description of Verlaque and Bonnet's daily lives - their up-and-down romance, their conversations, and their relationship to food and wine. The author vividly depicts the town of Aix-en-Provence, its markets, its citizens, and its glorious food. One can practically smell the freshly-baked croissants and savor the espresso on Verlaque's breakfast table.
It might add to the enjoyment of reading Murder in the Rue Dumas if one has taken a trip to the south of France, but it is certainly not necessary (although a map of Aix would have been welcome). The experience of reading Murder in the Rue Dumas is definitely enjoyable, whether one is a Francophile or not. And happily for fans of this delightful series is the news that the third book in the Verlaque and Bonnet series, Death in the Vines, is set to be released this July. Bon!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
another one from the vaults
I keep finding really cool old photos. This one features my grandfather, Lionel William Winship, on the right, with his father-in-law, Edwin H. Cassels. They both look so dapper. This is how people used to dress to take a stroll on the park, c. 1932.
 |
| Edwin H. Cassels and Lionel William "Billy" Winship on Paris, c. 1932 |
Wednesday, October 03, 2012
fancy a minuet?
I recently discovered this old family photo. No, it's not that old. It's a picture of my grandmother Mariette, when she was attending Parsons in Paris in the 1920s. She went to the Black and White Ball as Marie Antoinette. Here she is practicing her dance moves for that modern contraption the camera.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
minuit à paris
Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris is just ... so ... good. If you've never been to Paris, or studied art, or read about the Lost Generation or La Belle Époque, it will still be a joy to watch. But if you have ... how much more fun.
Hollywood screenwriter Gil (Owen Wilson) is on a sojourn in Paris with his fiancée, Inez (Rachel McAdams), as a sort of last gasp before they get married. It is immediately clear that Gil loves Paris and is hoping that this trip will convince Inez to move there with him, and enable him to finally give up screenwriting and concentrate on writing his novel. It is also clear from the first moment we see Inez, who couldn't be more bored as they stand on Giverny's Bridge aux Nymphéas, that she not only could care less that she is caught in a moment of beauty, in a living painting by Monet, but that she and Gil are beyond incompatible.
Allen begins Midnight in Paris with his signature jazz music and a montage of Paris, from morning until midnight. The audience can get its bearings, becoming tourists like Gil and Inez, as the camera shows multiple shots of the Eiffel Tower, Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Louvre and other landmarks. It is an opening reminiscent of how he started Manhattan
, with beautiful black and white shots of New York. It's a short-form love letter to the City of Light, the rest of the film a long-form one. What's especially nice is that there are no subtitles in the movie. The viewer must use their high school or college or traveler's French or just be at sea as to what people around him are saying as Gil is at times.
Gil is a glass half-full type of guy, and although he feels unease while his pushy girlfriend dotes on a pedantic bore (Michael Sheen) and her parents obviously dislike and insult him, he still doesn't want to see that not only is she not right for him, but just not a nice person. He blames all his restlessness on himself and one evening gets tipsy enough to finally refuse to be dragged along with her to do something he doesn't want to do. He gets lost wandering the winding streets of Paris and as the the clocks chime midnight a classic sedan, much like Cinderella's pumpkin coach, pulls up and a bunch of partying folks whisk him away for a ride. He's too sloshed and lost to argue, and the next thing he knows they're not hel[ing him find his hotel but have taken him to a party with Cole Porter playing the piano and singing "Let's Do It, Let's Fall in Love," and Zelda Fitzgerald (Allison Pill) flirting with him and introducing him to her husband Scott (Tom Hiddleston).
At first in shock, Gil can't believe that his dreams of going back to Paris when he believes it was really exciting, the 1920s, could be coming true — until he meets one of his heroes, Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll). He soon finds himself talking books with one of his idols. Hemingway tells him he won't read his novel, but he'll show it to his friend Gertrude Stein (a perfectly cast Kathy Bates). Gil runs to get his manuscript, but finds the spell has worn off and returns to his hotel room. Luckily for him, the charm works again the next night and he is able to return, where he meets not only Stein, but Pablo Picasso and the beautiful and lost soul Adriana (Marion Cotillard), who is Picasso's current mistress.
Allen has a blast introducing Gil to one icon after another. One of the best and funniest cameos in the film is Adrian Brody as a pitch-perfect Salvador Dalí. But also on hand are Luis Buñuel, Man Ray, T.S. Eliot, Josephine Baker and many more wonderful surprises. Midnight in Paris taps into the desire that everyone feels as they read about a time past and wonder what it would be like to visit. What would your chosen place be? Paris in the '20s like Gil? Or the Florence during the late 1500s? New York in the '50s at the Cedar Tavern? Midnight in Paris asks what if you really could, and, even more, what if you chose to stay there? Gil tries to tell Inez what he is experiencing even take her along for the ride, but she won't listen.
Owen Wilson, always an appealing actor, gives his best performance yet as Gil. He is one of the few actors who has been able to perform a lead character in a Woody Allen film and not seem as if he was mimicking Woody Allen. There are some typical Allen throwaway jokes — complaints about pseudo-intellectuals and the high culture/low culture debate. Inez's Ugly American parents are probably the ugliest Allen or any film has ever depicted, but somehow it all stays funny. Barbed at times, but still funny.
Another one of the reasons so much of the film works is that there are still many buildings that still evoke a past era in a city as old and charming as Paris. It must have ben easy for allen, sitting in some 19th century beautiful old building to dream up some scenes from the city's past. The film, Allen's 41st, is the first he has filmed entirely in Paris, and also using the digital intermediate process. The theater where we saw the movie had digital projection and the film was crisp and beautiful to look at.
It is hard to leave the theater after Midnight in Paris and not start checking flight deals to France, or try to dig up the book Kiki's Paris
from my art book collection. Bon travail, M. Woody. Merci.
Hollywood screenwriter Gil (Owen Wilson) is on a sojourn in Paris with his fiancée, Inez (Rachel McAdams), as a sort of last gasp before they get married. It is immediately clear that Gil loves Paris and is hoping that this trip will convince Inez to move there with him, and enable him to finally give up screenwriting and concentrate on writing his novel. It is also clear from the first moment we see Inez, who couldn't be more bored as they stand on Giverny's Bridge aux Nymphéas, that she not only could care less that she is caught in a moment of beauty, in a living painting by Monet, but that she and Gil are beyond incompatible.
 |
| Adriana and Gil stroll through 1920s Paris after midnight |
, with beautiful black and white shots of New York. It's a short-form love letter to the City of Light, the rest of the film a long-form one. What's especially nice is that there are no subtitles in the movie. The viewer must use their high school or college or traveler's French or just be at sea as to what people around him are saying as Gil is at times.Gil is a glass half-full type of guy, and although he feels unease while his pushy girlfriend dotes on a pedantic bore (Michael Sheen) and her parents obviously dislike and insult him, he still doesn't want to see that not only is she not right for him, but just not a nice person. He blames all his restlessness on himself and one evening gets tipsy enough to finally refuse to be dragged along with her to do something he doesn't want to do. He gets lost wandering the winding streets of Paris and as the the clocks chime midnight a classic sedan, much like Cinderella's pumpkin coach, pulls up and a bunch of partying folks whisk him away for a ride. He's too sloshed and lost to argue, and the next thing he knows they're not hel[ing him find his hotel but have taken him to a party with Cole Porter playing the piano and singing "Let's Do It, Let's Fall in Love," and Zelda Fitzgerald (Allison Pill) flirting with him and introducing him to her husband Scott (Tom Hiddleston).
At first in shock, Gil can't believe that his dreams of going back to Paris when he believes it was really exciting, the 1920s, could be coming true — until he meets one of his heroes, Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll). He soon finds himself talking books with one of his idols. Hemingway tells him he won't read his novel, but he'll show it to his friend Gertrude Stein (a perfectly cast Kathy Bates). Gil runs to get his manuscript, but finds the spell has worn off and returns to his hotel room. Luckily for him, the charm works again the next night and he is able to return, where he meets not only Stein, but Pablo Picasso and the beautiful and lost soul Adriana (Marion Cotillard), who is Picasso's current mistress.
 |
| Adrien Brody as Salvador Dalí, "Rhinoceros!" |
Owen Wilson, always an appealing actor, gives his best performance yet as Gil. He is one of the few actors who has been able to perform a lead character in a Woody Allen film and not seem as if he was mimicking Woody Allen. There are some typical Allen throwaway jokes — complaints about pseudo-intellectuals and the high culture/low culture debate. Inez's Ugly American parents are probably the ugliest Allen or any film has ever depicted, but somehow it all stays funny. Barbed at times, but still funny.
Another one of the reasons so much of the film works is that there are still many buildings that still evoke a past era in a city as old and charming as Paris. It must have ben easy for allen, sitting in some 19th century beautiful old building to dream up some scenes from the city's past. The film, Allen's 41st, is the first he has filmed entirely in Paris, and also using the digital intermediate process. The theater where we saw the movie had digital projection and the film was crisp and beautiful to look at.
It is hard to leave the theater after Midnight in Paris and not start checking flight deals to France, or try to dig up the book Kiki's Paris
from my art book collection. Bon travail, M. Woody. Merci.Tuesday, July 05, 2011
princess grace of monaco ... not
Well, it was a lot better than I thought it would be. I took my 7 year-old to see Monte Carlo, and she absolutely loved it. It's a silly, often funny movie. Surprisingly, it wasn't wall-to-wall tween girls at the matinee we attended. There were people of all ages and even couples, and everyone seemed to have a good time.
Selena Gomez (Wizards of Waverly Place) plays recent high school graduate Grace (get it - Grace in Monaco?), who has saved for years for her dream trip to Paris. Her slightly wild best friend, Emma (Katie Cassidy - Gossip Girl, Melrose Place) is set to accompany her, but at the last minute her mom and stepdad ask her older stepsister Meg (Leighton Meester - Gossip Girl, The Roommate) to join them, as both a chaperone and to give Meg a chance to get out and see the world, as she has been withdrawn since the loss of her mother.
The three girls worked well together, but Gomez seemed young and more than a little bit out of her league, not really strong enough to carry a movie. Luckily, Meester, who practically steals the movie, with both a better story and greater screen presence, and Cassidy, as the wacky-with-a-heart-of-gold sidekick, are there to take the focus off the central, boring teen romance between Gomez and French actor Pierre Boulanger. British comedian Catherine Tate (The Catherine Tate Show, Dr. Who) has a nice cameo as Cordelia's aunt Alicia and Glee's Cory Monteith plays Emma's Texas boyfriend.
The tour Grace chooses is a total disaster, speeding the girls (and the audience) through the Louvre without even a glance at the Mona Lisa and putting them in a no-star hotel. In a series of silly mishaps, set to the scenic backdrops of the Eiffel Tower and a fancy Parisian Hotel, the girls find themselves separated from their tour and Grace mistaken for a beyond bratty British heiress, Cordelia Winthrop Scott (also played by Gomez). Gomez seemed more at ease playing her nasty doppelganger.
Love interests are introduced (Luke Bracey as Riley is especially appealing) and the girls, after a little (supposedly) harmless fraud, find themselves on an all-expense paid trip to Monaco to take hooky-playing Cordelia's spot at a charity event. Before parents should get too worried that their daughters are being schooled in how to grift their way through Europe, lessons are learned, tears are shed, and fireworks fill the night sky.
Beautiful locations in both Paris — including Sacre Coeur, the Arc de Triomphe, and in Monaco — the Grand Corniche, and many aerial views, are featured. Inexplicably, there were no scenes in the famous Casino, probably Monte Carlo's most well-known and visited attraction. Maybe the girls were considered to be too young to get in?
Monte Carlo is light and fluffy and fun time at the movies, a scenic rom-com in the same vein as French Kiss and Only You. It may take Leighton Meester to the next level in her movie career, rather than Gomez. It could have been zanier, as the romp and the ultimate come-uppance are definitely at a lukewarm level, but that's probably best for the core audience. At the very least it will make you want to book a trip to the City of Lights, or City of Love, depending on who you're talking to.
 |
| L-R: Leighton Meester, Selena Gomez and Katie Cassidy |
The three girls worked well together, but Gomez seemed young and more than a little bit out of her league, not really strong enough to carry a movie. Luckily, Meester, who practically steals the movie, with both a better story and greater screen presence, and Cassidy, as the wacky-with-a-heart-of-gold sidekick, are there to take the focus off the central, boring teen romance between Gomez and French actor Pierre Boulanger. British comedian Catherine Tate (The Catherine Tate Show, Dr. Who) has a nice cameo as Cordelia's aunt Alicia and Glee's Cory Monteith plays Emma's Texas boyfriend.
The tour Grace chooses is a total disaster, speeding the girls (and the audience) through the Louvre without even a glance at the Mona Lisa and putting them in a no-star hotel. In a series of silly mishaps, set to the scenic backdrops of the Eiffel Tower and a fancy Parisian Hotel, the girls find themselves separated from their tour and Grace mistaken for a beyond bratty British heiress, Cordelia Winthrop Scott (also played by Gomez). Gomez seemed more at ease playing her nasty doppelganger.
Love interests are introduced (Luke Bracey as Riley is especially appealing) and the girls, after a little (supposedly) harmless fraud, find themselves on an all-expense paid trip to Monaco to take hooky-playing Cordelia's spot at a charity event. Before parents should get too worried that their daughters are being schooled in how to grift their way through Europe, lessons are learned, tears are shed, and fireworks fill the night sky.
Beautiful locations in both Paris — including Sacre Coeur, the Arc de Triomphe, and in Monaco — the Grand Corniche, and many aerial views, are featured. Inexplicably, there were no scenes in the famous Casino, probably Monte Carlo's most well-known and visited attraction. Maybe the girls were considered to be too young to get in?
Monte Carlo is light and fluffy and fun time at the movies, a scenic rom-com in the same vein as French Kiss and Only You. It may take Leighton Meester to the next level in her movie career, rather than Gomez. It could have been zanier, as the romp and the ultimate come-uppance are definitely at a lukewarm level, but that's probably best for the core audience. At the very least it will make you want to book a trip to the City of Lights, or City of Love, depending on who you're talking to.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
coco rico
Sneakaloo's review of Coco Before Chanel prompted me to check out the film. I have to say, avant revue, that I have never been a huge fan of what has become to be known as Chanel's signature style—boxy, short jacket suits in wool jersey, trimmed with large braid and accessorized by over-sized pearls or similar rope jewelry and large brooches. My grandmother, who met my grandfather while she was living in Paris in the thirties and attending the interior design program of Parsons School of Design, actually had a Chanel wedding gown. It was simple, elegant and beautiful—a lot like the simple yet elegant dress shown in the film that Coco asks a tailor to put together for her so that she can go out dancing—which may have been Chanel's first "little black dress."
The movie was interesting for me because it wasn't exactly a success story, although Chanel, as we all know, not only became successful, but a major influence in women's fashion which has yet to be rivaled. It was fascinating in how it depicted the strict social structure of French society and how that may have led to Coco's life and art decisions.
She couldn't afford to get to Paris on her own or on her musical "talent," so she made a hard, practical decision to hook up with a man who could help, Étienne Balsan. Her relationship with Balsan was complex. At times it was clear he thought of her as a bit of fluff, a weekend diversion, and she thought of him as a convenient place to stay near Paris. But at other times they seemed to have a growing affection for one another. He appreciated her individuality, even if he didn't fully understand her, and she came to treat him as a true friend. Through Balsan she met Arthur 'Boy' Capel. He was apparently the love of he life, although it is also evident that for quite a while both men share a mistress. It's all very French and very sophisticated and somehow still shocking—these sorts of arrangements are rarely depicted in American films.
According to the movie, even while living in a chateau outside Paris with Balsan, Coco could not afford nice clothes. Balsan kept her well, as long as she stayed in her room, but he didn't take her anywhere with him or buy her any clothes—he felt she didn't fit in with his class, his friends. She put up for it for a while and then raided his closet—full of tons of beautifully made shirts. She uses her sewing skills to adorn and improve her plain dresses with his collars and sleeves. Coco disdained corsets and wore loosely fitting dresses—some called them shapeless, but others could see that she was forming her own unique style. She really starts to get some notice with some hats that she made for some of Balsan's lady friends. We can see the light bulb start to flicker. Trained as a seamstress, she decides that she could make a living, an independent one, making hats, and eventually, clothes. This all happened around 1910. Considering how women were dressing at the time, Coco's looks must have seemed truly avant-garde.
Audrey Tatou is a quite serious Coco in Coco before Chanel. When Coco does have the occasion to smile, you feel lifted, a sense of relief, and realize how hard an effort it was for her to circulate among the leisure classes. Through sheer individuality she manages to hold her own. She is staked by 'Boy' Capel in her first hat and dress shops. By the 1920s she was firmly established as a couturiere in Paris. She must have been the very height of fashion when my Grandmother lived in Paris. I have so many photos of my grandmother from that time, and she always looks fabulous. Coco and my grandmother were both definitely a part of that style, a part of that très, très chic era.
A gorgeous couple
The movie was interesting for me because it wasn't exactly a success story, although Chanel, as we all know, not only became successful, but a major influence in women's fashion which has yet to be rivaled. It was fascinating in how it depicted the strict social structure of French society and how that may have led to Coco's life and art decisions.
She couldn't afford to get to Paris on her own or on her musical "talent," so she made a hard, practical decision to hook up with a man who could help, Étienne Balsan. Her relationship with Balsan was complex. At times it was clear he thought of her as a bit of fluff, a weekend diversion, and she thought of him as a convenient place to stay near Paris. But at other times they seemed to have a growing affection for one another. He appreciated her individuality, even if he didn't fully understand her, and she came to treat him as a true friend. Through Balsan she met Arthur 'Boy' Capel. He was apparently the love of he life, although it is also evident that for quite a while both men share a mistress. It's all very French and very sophisticated and somehow still shocking—these sorts of arrangements are rarely depicted in American films.
French fashion magazine L'Officiel, which featured Grand-Mère in her wedding gown
According to the movie, even while living in a chateau outside Paris with Balsan, Coco could not afford nice clothes. Balsan kept her well, as long as she stayed in her room, but he didn't take her anywhere with him or buy her any clothes—he felt she didn't fit in with his class, his friends. She put up for it for a while and then raided his closet—full of tons of beautifully made shirts. She uses her sewing skills to adorn and improve her plain dresses with his collars and sleeves. Coco disdained corsets and wore loosely fitting dresses—some called them shapeless, but others could see that she was forming her own unique style. She really starts to get some notice with some hats that she made for some of Balsan's lady friends. We can see the light bulb start to flicker. Trained as a seamstress, she decides that she could make a living, an independent one, making hats, and eventually, clothes. This all happened around 1910. Considering how women were dressing at the time, Coco's looks must have seemed truly avant-garde.
Grand-Mère in L'Officiel
Audrey Tatou is a quite serious Coco in Coco before Chanel. When Coco does have the occasion to smile, you feel lifted, a sense of relief, and realize how hard an effort it was for her to circulate among the leisure classes. Through sheer individuality she manages to hold her own. She is staked by 'Boy' Capel in her first hat and dress shops. By the 1920s she was firmly established as a couturiere in Paris. She must have been the very height of fashion when my Grandmother lived in Paris. I have so many photos of my grandmother from that time, and she always looks fabulous. Coco and my grandmother were both definitely a part of that style, a part of that très, très chic era.
Monday, August 11, 2008
who CARES about these people?
Unless you've been living under a rock lately, you have certainly seen the John McCain/Britney/Paris ad and all the ensuing criticism. Now don't think this is going to be a "political" post. I'm not really bothered by what this ad may or may not do to either McCain's or Obama's campaigns. What really gets me is that a presidential candidate (or more correctly, his flacks) have fallen into the celebrity hate/worship culture, which simply needs to stop. Now.
Why does anyone find these "celebrities" interesting? I understand the trainwreck principle.
For some reason, humans get off on human suffering. This is nothing new. Public floggings, hangings, stocks, etc. But the endless paparazzi coverage of a lot of twenty-somethings whose only claim to fame is the result of Disney machine marketing or Daddie's bank account is puzzling. Why do we want to see Britney buy her 10th Starbucks coffee of the day? Why do we want to see Paris do anything? And when someone who has some actual talent self-destructs (Amy Winehouse) do we need to watch it moment-by-moment? This is a sad, but all-too-common tale.
I understand why we like to buy magazines and check out sites that show the rich and famous, Brad and Angelina's cavorting and adopting, etc. I wanted to hear what crazy name the babies were given, too, but I hardly cared when they were actually born or needed to keep vigil. Magazine culture has changed. The Internet is a huge factor. Supermarket tabloids can't keep up with the 'net's ability to post almost immediate updates on these folks traipsing through Hollywood. And it allows the rest of us to post at will our opinions of those coffee-buying excursions.
This is for me the most disturbing aspect of the hate/worship culture. Most gossip sites seem to be outlets for folks to vent and post, mostly in obscene terms, their opinions. Is everyone in the world really so angry or jealous of these twits? Sure, most celebs may very well be undeserving of their fame. But if you don't like it, don't watch. Paris Hilton understands that there is no bad publicity, just publicity. So if you are sick of her, then stop cruising sites to see her latest move. I love pop culture, but I am sick of the negativity, the vulture-like waiting for the next celebrity disaster, the posters who all claim to "know" someone that can prove that so-and so's preferences lean this way or that. The Internet can be a great connector, but it also allows everyone to sink to the lowest possible level. I don't care what Paris or Britney are up to. Join me and we can not care together.
Why does anyone find these "celebrities" interesting? I understand the trainwreck principle.
For some reason, humans get off on human suffering. This is nothing new. Public floggings, hangings, stocks, etc. But the endless paparazzi coverage of a lot of twenty-somethings whose only claim to fame is the result of Disney machine marketing or Daddie's bank account is puzzling. Why do we want to see Britney buy her 10th Starbucks coffee of the day? Why do we want to see Paris do anything? And when someone who has some actual talent self-destructs (Amy Winehouse) do we need to watch it moment-by-moment? This is a sad, but all-too-common tale.I understand why we like to buy magazines and check out sites that show the rich and famous, Brad and Angelina's cavorting and adopting, etc. I wanted to hear what crazy name the babies were given, too, but I hardly cared when they were actually born or needed to keep vigil. Magazine culture has changed. The Internet is a huge factor. Supermarket tabloids can't keep up with the 'net's ability to post almost immediate updates on these folks traipsing through Hollywood. And it allows the rest of us to post at will our opinions of those coffee-buying excursions.
This is for me the most disturbing aspect of the hate/worship culture. Most gossip sites seem to be outlets for folks to vent and post, mostly in obscene terms, their opinions. Is everyone in the world really so angry or jealous of these twits? Sure, most celebs may very well be undeserving of their fame. But if you don't like it, don't watch. Paris Hilton understands that there is no bad publicity, just publicity. So if you are sick of her, then stop cruising sites to see her latest move. I love pop culture, but I am sick of the negativity, the vulture-like waiting for the next celebrity disaster, the posters who all claim to "know" someone that can prove that so-and so's preferences lean this way or that. The Internet can be a great connector, but it also allows everyone to sink to the lowest possible level. I don't care what Paris or Britney are up to. Join me and we can not care together.
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