Jacquot de Nantes

In my ongoing project to know Varda I figured few films would be as personally poignant as this one, a dear goodbye to her filmmaker husband Demy, then in his last days. It would be about his childhood in occupied France, before the two met, but I was keen to see what images she would furnish around this boy who would grow up to be the man she loved and was going to be parted from now forever very soon.

But of course it has to count for something, that faced with the opportunity to make one last film, Demy chose one simply on his childhood in place of a more encompassing reflection, that he leaves out all that life that a man would reflect back upon, and husband, father, struggling filmmaker. It must have been not always a happy marriage, as also different films by both suggest, but that's every marriage.

Moreover it says this about him, that as the last glimpse of himself that he leaves behind is that of a boy tinkering with moving illusions in an attic. It shows the Demy who liked nothing better than to tinker with color and artifice in his later work, fans will clearly see how the fascination started, this is definitely one for them. How it's the surrounding world, having to hide the weapons of French soldiers before German tanks rolled in, that inspires invention, staging, imagination. We see that it's his father's garage where Cherbourg takes place in after all.

But if we keep probing honestly, we will also come to the realization that if we didn't know from elsewhere that Demy was in his last days, we wouldn't really know it from the film. The facts of mortality are left out, this is a story of beginnings. So when it ends with the somewhat flippant mention that he would go on to be married, have kids, and that is that, it might also be a way of saying that some things are left unsaid. I still find that what he chooses to recall is a simple nostalgia and what he doesn't has even more value, that being consciousness of a whole life.

Varda films from a distance, this is not her story, she's here to type it all down. But she does say her own goodbye in the most heartfelt way as the camera parts from him on a shore, has to. She would make another film on Demy after he was gone, I'm setting my eyes on that.

Director Agnés Varda gives a loving picture of her husband Jacques Demy's teens in rural Nantes. Little Jacques (or Jacquot) grows up obsessed with his interest in movies and the idea of making his own.

As just a little boy he makes his own animated stories. Now and then his childhood adventures turns into a movie, and instead we see small scenes from his later classic movies; Lola, The Young Girls Of Rochefort and others. For example at one scene at his fathers garage when a customers picks up his car : suddenly we see a scene with a garage from "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg", with the same dialogue.

Jacques Demy and Agnes Varda made the movie together. He provided with stories from his childhood, and she wrote the manuscript. It is a very beautiful little film about childhood and about a little kid obsessed with his movies.

I know logically that the many, many cut-always to the Demy film clips break up the flow of the dramatizations of his childhood (and those extreme close-ups of the late Demy, his skin showing I believe the lesions from HIV that would take his life too soon are particularly jarring, sometimes Im not sure in a good way). But emotionally, what Varda is doing here is all of a piece, and (Nazis and Occupied France aside) it all makes me wish I could have been a boy/young man in Frnace in the late 30s and 40s.

In a way, it feels kind of like an excellent midway midway between Cinema Paradiso (which I like but I once called too "shmoopy" and I stick but it) and Au revoir les Enfants (which I love, but has a slightly harder edge and sadder overall feeling). Varda gets natural performances, and it's a striking and cool balance between warmth and a frank realism (ie boys showing a girl their little penises is treated as a cheerful activity, for both sexes).

And really, you don't get this in cinema practically ever - a husband and wife filmmaking pair, both playful and innovators. where the latter made a literal cinematic love letter to the former after he died (albeit Demy was writing his memoties when he died) - that would make it important by itself. That it is also beautiful to look at in black and white and is edited like a wonderful dream makes it even more special: it's a love letter to her husband, but also to cinema and creative perseverance itself; when he as a boy makes the little hand-cranked projector, it feels like a small miracle.

I think that director such as Jacques Demy, deserves much better treatment than the one he got in this poor cinema biography by Agnes Varda. This is done in low tradition of French TV dramas and I couldn´t find a single inspirational and emotional moment in this trivial film. Varda directed "Jacquot de Nantes" in a manner which is closer to the documentary feature but still not quite. So, what we got here is steady camera work which doesn´t allow us to see any emotions on screen and therefor care for the characters, and on the other hand it doesn´t go any deeper from the surface in documentary tradition. The ending is completely without any sense and it just goes on with the rest of the piece. Simply boring and very forgettable. One might also expect much more from the director of such classics as "Kung-Fu Master" and "Vagabond".

Agnes Varda's biographical sketch of Jacques Demy's childhood and how it shaped him into a filmmaker. I use the word "sketch" because the film doesn't really go in-depth to any degree and it feels like a pretty superficial treatment. However, there's a lot of warmth and charm to it, and the anecdotes being revealed make for compelling material. If the sort of nostalgia on display isn't terribly original, at least there is some originality in the structure, tying clips from Demy's work to specific moments to his youth. The brief scenes of the real Demy (presumably not long before his death) help keeps things fresh as well. While this didn't knock my socks off, it was a very pleasant and endearing movie.