Das Leben ist ein Chanson

The sing-along idea is clever and well-implemented, but the story goes around in circles and above all the film is too static to support the musical premise. It's sad to see such lackluster direction from the creator of _Hiroshima mon amour_. If you like Jaoui and Bacri, go see _Le gout des autres_!

it's a simple funny film that talks about few people who know each other or get to know each other afterward. The aspect that makes it differ from other movies is that the protagonists sing often their feelings or ideas! The used songs are popular French songs that are well known by everybody in France. I liked it in general but it is not a plot that interests me that much since the most of these relations were not that interesting for me. The most important human aspect that was shown in this movie is that many things are not as they seem to be! Some people show that they are strong and have great achievements and they have everything under control but they are not that achieving! They have to accept that they are only normal people and show their true selves to the others.

This film is light, but not empty. Following the interconnected lives of several Parisian bourgeois, the film uses snippets of popular music to demonstrate the emotional state of the characters in the style of a conventional musical. However, the music does both more than this and less. The characters do not sing their parts so much as lip-sync (badly) to tunes that one hears on the radio or in a movie. The songs are related to the characters' "inner lives" as a Nike swoosh or a Dior label would be - and that's the point. Each character has a musical style of sorts and maybe even a theme song, but the song "belongs" to the character like motion "belongs" to a jelly-fish. The characters, like the jelly-fish that are a motif of the finale scene, are less than unique, and much less than in control. However, they are at the same time quite human and sympathetic.

Resnais, whom I count as being one of cinema's great geniuses, has a similar approach in On connaît la chanson as he does in Mon oncle d'Amérique, with pop songs in lieu of mice and jelly-fish in lieu of Henri Laborit. (See the info on the latter movie if this doesn't make sense...) What both films do is make one think about important questions of the complex relationship between brains, minds, and souls, and they do so without clobbering the viewer over the head with preachiness and over-simplifications. Contrast this with the sermonizing of the abominable Lars von Trier (of Dancer in the Dark fame) as well as with the mindless drek that that is generally shown in U.S. theaters.

The films central theme, that of having characters break into lip-synced song and dance routines, is not original and indeed the film introduction acknowledges the debt to the UK playwright Dennis Potter. The plot of the film is enjoyable in a light hearted way and the characters well drawn and played. As a English speaker I assume that we lose something of the effect as the songs chosen are not familiar to us as no doubt they would be to a native French viewer. What does irritate slightly I found is the overuse of the "break into song". Potter, if my memory is correct, uses it far more sparingly with a few larger set pieces. At points in this film the characters are breaking into song so often that it feels as if the plot will be broken too much. Definitely worth watching though for the performances.

In the unapproximate center of "On connaît la chanson," find a marvelous joke that missed by everyone at the sold out SFIFF screening I attended. If you want to try to catch it yourself, then don't read on! I'm writing to those of you who didn't or won't catch it. Four or five characters are seated chatting or arguing, I forget, round a table in a busy restaurant. As you know from other comments here, the script incorporates line fragments from well-known French songs (kind of like those "hidden picture" puzzles in the dentist office magazine). As each occurs, someone bursts into song. One of our group, after an unremarkable, perfectly conversational pause, says "je ne regret rien," then pauses, as does everyone else round the table. They look at one another, everyone at everyone, the very clatter of the restaurant seems to pause, waiting, and for the only time in this film, nobody takes the cue. Nobody breaks into the Piaf standard.