City of Love
Apr. 1st, 2008 11:03 pm
For the last ten years I've had this feeling that one day I'll live in Paris. I don't know when exactly - could be at the end of the month; could be at the end of my life - but the certainty remains that somewhere in the City of Light there is a little maisonette with my name printed on its front door. I've only been to Paris once, when I was backpacking through Europe in 1998. A friend from university traveled with me; we managed to stay with the cousin of someone we knew back in Montreal, in a tiny apartment in the sixth arrondissement. I spent a lot of my time wandering around and doing touristy stuff, like vising Jim Morrison's grave and the Louvre; at night, the cousin took us to the Buddha Bar once (I have no clue how they let me in, with my dirty backpacker clothes), and a french jazz club where everyone hit their palms on the ceiling to showcase their pleasure for the music. When I watch films like 2 Days in Paris (not to be confused with One Night in Paris) I'm reminded all over again of this decade-old summer, as well as this nagging feeling (which conveniently pops up whenever I see any good french film) that one day I'll live there.
2 Days in Paris is written, composed, edited and directed by Julie Delpy. If you are a lover of Woody Allen's films, and you wonder what the hell happened to his career, you might find some comfort in the way Delpy turns herself into a sort of Woody Allen (when he played mysteriously irresistible intellectual types), with the smile of Diane Keaton and the sensibility of a neurotic Parisian. Add to the combination a hot American who looks Jewish, but is more like a Catholic, a lot of jokes on sex, relationships and hippie parents, and you get a kind of well-aged, tasty film. It's funny; it's sharp; it's silly; it's kinda sweet.
The film got me thinking about the portrayal of gay couples in films.
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