Los paraguas de Cherburgo

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.

Some things are so wonderful you can't quite believe they exist. A technicolour heaven with a young Catherine Deneuve at her most beguiling and beautiful in a film that's entirely sung in the most exquisite way? Pinch me, I still can't get over the fact this film exists.

Everyone has a film they return to when they're feeling jaded, sick of Hollywood or simply because it's raining outside. I have two films I turn to at these times. One is Singin' in the Rain; the other is this little gem. Both transport me to a world of colour, joy and heartache, yet both stay just the right side of sentimental too.

Of course the plot is a little convoluted; of course the entirely sung script makes it a little jarring at first - but just sit back and let Les Parapluies do its magic. You won't regret it. I promise ;-)

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

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.

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.