Paris, Je T’aime: Small Neighborhood Romances
(**** / *****)
Paris, Je T’aime is an experiment: a compilation of short films, each written and directed by a different director, with a common theme: Paris.
It’s rare for a film to maintain well crafted, consistent quality from opening shot to closing credits. For that film to be a collaboration of eighteen wildly varied directors–is at once mind-boggling and deeply impressive. Or, perhaps it’s not–given the experience and renown that each director brings to her or his respective short.
Montmarte. Relieved to find a parking spot, a man sits in his car and reflects, wistfully, “No one is single. Not one.” He watches. A laughing couple approaches and, in the mirror, walks away. A woman, visibly pregnant (and proud) walks towards us, then down the street, in the mirror.
Another woman walks toward us. Our gaze returns to the mirror and waits … She doesn’t appear. Out of the car, he finds her on the sidewalk, collapsed. A crowd gathers, offers prosaic advice, helps move her into the rear seat of his car.
He closes the door and sits in the passenger seat. She wakes, says “thank you.” She takes his hand, and they talk. They talk … nonsense, really. About the EMT course he took, or–her shoes–she’s had them since she was fourteen. He offers to drive her to her appointment. She protests, then accepts. The scene cuts to an idyllic street corner, as his car drives by.
Cut. The screen bursts–overflowing with a stunning panorama of Paris, dwarfed by the Sacre Coeur Basilica. We see a small title–“Quais de Seine. Gurider Chadra”–and the music changes. Three students sit on the riverfront. The Seine sparkles–a vibrant Hitchcock-esque rearscreen. They laugh, making light-hearted catcalls at the women who pass. One stops, sneers, flies them the birdie.
A young Muslim woman walks past, trips and falls. Leaving his friends, one rushes up to help her. He awkwardly tries to help her replace her hajib (head scarf), and they share a moment to themselves–and a bit of unexpected connection. Shot in intimate close-ups, her delicate features of her face fill the frame. Then, she continues on her way.
The scene changes. Another title appears. The story isn’t closed–there’s nothing fulfilled, consummated. But, as viewers, we feel we’ve been a part of something.
Paris is in a vein similar to that of the great transnational collaborations of the late 1960’s and early 70’s (vis., The Passenger, Blow-Up, James Bond). Too often, star-heavy movies flop under their own weight (viz., All The King’s Men, Red Dragon, The Good Shepherd). Paris has more than a dozen Academy Award nominees, but nevertheless holds its weight admirably.
Multi-lingual and panethnic, Paris soars on its diverse cast–a triumphant collaboration of international talent. Its directors come from four continents and twice again as many cultural traditions. Each director’s style is distinct–identifiable–yet consistent and flowing into Parisian mosaic, painted in broad strokes.
A brief sketch of the film’s contributing writer-directors is eye-popping: Tom Tykwer (Run Lola Run); Christopher Doyle (cinematographer for Hero, The Quiet American); Vincenzo Natali (Cube). Gus Van Saint (Good Will Hunting); Joel and Ethan Coen, Alfanso Cuaron (Y To Mama Tambien, Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban); Alexander Payne (About Schmidt, Sideways), as is its list of acting talent: Gerard Depardieu, Steve Buscemi, Emily Mortimer, Elijah Wood, and Maggie Gyllanhall, to name a few.
Amid so much critically acclaimed contributors, it might be easy to loose track of the film’s more obscure gems, like Isabel Coixet and Nobuhiro Suwa. But not so–each director’s contribution is integral to the flow and composition of Paris, lending it variety and levity.
Full of surprises and bursting with color, the film evokes a dramatically dreamlike quality–reminiscent of Akira Kurosawa’s Dreams.
And perhaps it’s that dream-like quality that allows the film to speak to us directly, leaving us with a feeling, rather than a verdict or reaction. Or, perhaps it’s the film’s exceptional humanity: its scenes and scenarios that, 4,900 miles physically displaced, we readily relate to.
More than the sum of its parts, Paris succeeds in conjuring Paris: beautiful, pastoral, foreign, familiar, haunting, meditative. Unpretentious, alternatively baffling and poignant, Paris is a joy to watch and leaves you hungry for more.
A PDF copy of this review is available at:
http://www.eateggs.com/files/parisjetaime_review.pdf
