The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

The first of the three segments is perhaps the sunniest film ever made. It's a totally original film (at least from what I've seen); so original, in fact, that at first it's kind of off-putting -- the artificiality of the bubble gum colors (in the first segment, as they change slightly as each moves into the next), the constantly moving camera, and the fact that all of the lines are sung makes it hard to get situated within the film, for the same reason that you turn the car radio down when you're driving down a street trying to read house numbers. ("I can't follow the plot, they keep singing...") And yet Demy isn't satisfied with just being sunny (and his brightness is never garish); each segment has a specific feel, the grandest being the last, with an ending that's just right. (Though it should be said that Demy never once sacrifices the pleasure he creates, nor does he fall into any stale conventions, even while his story is based on the oldest of movie clichés -- wait for me!).

I hesitate to use the word melodrama, but that's essentially what the film is, both for the meaning of the word "melo" (music) and for the heightened emotions brought on my the music. It feels like we've got our head in the clouds, not least of all because the acting is aided by, well, the singing. The music, which is nearly always splendid (and never song-and-dancey), compliments the actors. At first the acting is very plain; or at least, it seems that way. I think that's due to the unconventional approach. Deneuve's loveliness as a young woman keeps us from responding to much aside from her beauty (and she starts off as a typical love-struck sixteen year-old), but by the end she's quite a different person, and to overuse a term applied to Deneuve, she becomes elegant. (I kept looking at her handsome costar thinking Alain Delon would have been perfect in the role; then I learned his most noteworthy film aside from this one was the Delon-starring Visconti film, "Rocco and His Brothers.) Surely some people would probably vomit at a film of such shameless exhibitionism and style, but I was left astonished, thinking, How in the hell did they pull it off? 9/10

when I was in high school, taking french, the teacher would occasionally push a tape into a slot and show a "movie." the idea was for us kids to hear the language. well, this was one of the movies. at the time, my feelings concerning "umbrellas" were... truthfully, I didn't know what to think. as a seventeen year old I don't think I would have recommended it.

channel surfing last night I came across it again on TCM. what a difference 9000 days makes. this is a very unique film. it's not a musical, even with the sung dialog, jazzy score and saturated colors. it's stylish camera work/art direction doesn't contradict the neorealism aspect either. It enhances it.

even with the "star crossed lovers" aspect, the film isn't sentimental or corny. and the socio-economic angle is also treated tastefully.

This is an ART film in the true sense of the term. and Anne Vernon. Je t'aime.

I saw this movie in 1964 when I was 11 years old. It was my introduction to heartbreaking love and this movie probably influenced my love life or how I imagined love was supposed to be. My mother had to lead me from the theatre when it was over because I was blinded with tears. Many years passed until I was able to order the film in VHS and watch it again (about 3 years ago). I still love it. The vivid colors, Genevieve and Guy's beauty and youth, and the beautiful score by Michele LeGrande combine to transport you to a magical place. I loved the fact that every word was sung, but it was not like opera at all. After a few minutes it was as if every word is always sung and talking doesn't exist. Catherine Deneuve was so beautiful! I love this movie and highly recommend it.

Always I considered this film as brilliant example of real cinema. for reasons escaping from the skin of words. for a special form of beauty. for the courage of director. for performances and colors and story. and, yes, especially for music. it seems be a musical. but it is so different by one ! for a sort of...magic. who remains in your memory. who determes you to see it time by time. and for the great emotion defining it as a n experience. it is real cinema example because it is not entertainment. it is not refuge for blockbuster pieces. it is not a demonstration. it is not a show. it could be a confession. about love, life, Cherbourg, umbrellas shop and compromises. in the most delicate and precise manner. a film who remains the best answer when, for understand the life, need, for 90 minutes, escape from it. a gem, maybe. or just the real cinema.

In 1964, filmmaker Jacques Demy made an audacious move by directing a deceptively simple love story completely in song. I would be hard pressed to call this movie a musical, opera or even an operetta since there are neither show-stopping production numbers nor soul-bearing arias on the soundtrack. Instead, we are presented everyday dialogue in a series of recitatives that bring a dramatic urgency to the most mundane of events. Why it works is that the story is not the happy-go-lucky romance one would suspect it will be from the bright colors of the production but rather a melancholy tale of love unfulfilled and the tenuousness of longing in the face of harsh realities. It is a Gallic version of "Romeo and Juliet" by way of William Inge's tale of teenage lust, "Splendor in the Grass" (in fact, Demy's ending bears a striking resemblance to the last scenes of Elia Kazan's film three years earlier).

The plot focuses on teen-aged star-crossed lovers Genevieve and Guy, who develop a relationship through clandestine meetings despite the disapproval of Genevieve's mother, who thinks a gas station mechanic is beneath her daughter. The lovers eventually consummate their relationship once Guy finds he has been drafted to serve for France during the Algerian conflict. With Guy away, Genevieve discovers she is pregnant and must decide whether to wait for Guy's uncertain return or marry the rich diamond dealer, Roland Cassard, her mother's preference given the failing business of her umbrella shop. The story develops in subtle strokes almost like a Yasujiro Ozu film in that there aren't really any melodramatic confrontation scenes but instead moments of revelation. The wondrous Catherine Deneuve, all of twenty, had her first important role as Genevieve, and it's no wonder her career seems assured from her ethereal performance. With his earthy good looks and open-hearted manner, Nino Castelnuovo complements Deneuve as Guy, and their romance is palpable even in an amusingly contrived shot where they are obviously on a conveyor belt moving down the street. Anne Vernon lends a robust presence as Genevieve's mother as she plots her daughter's fate, and Marc Michel is appropriately bland as Roland.

Along with the vibrant colors faithfully recaptured in a 1996 restoration, such artifices really add to the film's charm. However, just as essential is Michel Legrand's score with his swooning romanticism at its most cinematic (and a precursor to the music he composed for Barbra Streisand's 1983 "Yentl"), as it fills the dramatic arcs from start to finish. You will likely recognize the lounge standard melodies for the Americanized translations, "I Will Wait for You" and "Watch What Happens", as they are pervasive through the recitatives. I enjoyed the movie very much but realize this will not be everyone's cup of tea, especially those already alienated by the musical genre. One can see this as an even more exaggerated form, but you can probably tell by the first two minutes whether you will be enraptured by it. The DVD also includes an excerpt from Demy's widow Agnes Varda's illuminating 1995 documentary, "The World of Jacques Demy".