Sous les toits de Paris

The film marvellously shows the nostalgic dream of the old Paris and its common people. With melancholic irony, Clair tells a story of the milieu of backstreets and backyards, of street singers, pickpockets, fiddlers and strange townsmen. Here, his grasp into the present does not become realistic depictions of circumstances, but a poetic romance, for which reality is only one aspect of life.

In this regard, especially the sound has turned out quite well. And how hesitantly Clair used this new technical innovation! His generally critical attitude towards sound in films induced, that "Sous les toits" is mainly composed of silent parts (including many dialog scenes), which are highlighted with music or noises such as trains driving past. The song "Sous Les Toits De Paris" of Albert, the street singer, becomes to the red thread which links several scenes and bridges time distances. A fight taking place in the dark only informs the viewer through noises. For that, we witness a dispute, where the matter is uninteresting and predictable, without any sound - shot through a glass door. One can say sound is especially used for enrichment and left out when it would be needless. Thus, a film came into being that wonderfully combines sentiment, humor and intelligence with languishingly beautiful tunes.

Having been highly impressed by "Le Million", I decided to check out Rene Clair's other acclaimed musical comedy, "Under the Roofs of Paris". I can happily assure you that this film was even better than "Le Million" in almost every single way. It amps up the heart and humor, has a much stronger emotional impact, and, while "Le Million" felt like a purely plot driven film, "Under the Roofs of Paris" balances plot and character to near perfection.

This hilarious love story unfolds slowly and steadily, introducing the audience to different characters and places without rushing everything. We watch and learn before the plot strikes us like a lightning bolt of beauty. Rene Clair's camera beautifully glides through the streets of Paris, following characters and peaking in on their most fragile moments. This film is like the finest work of literature; it contains laughs and tears, moments of melancholy and hope. It is, simply, a masterpiece.

The great French film actor Jacques Tati made several films that tried to capture a Paris that disappeared even before World WarII. It was a world best seen through the gifted photography of Atget and Brassai. A world of intimacy, silent streets, virtually no traffic, limited means, but unlimited pleasures. A wonderful opening shot glides across rooftops to join a cluster of ordinary Parisians enjoying a singalong, an odd but compelling precursor of karaoke and rock concerts, but untarnished by special effects or hype. There is a sense that we are witnessing a street version of Lautrec's Moulin Rouge.

The cinematography is extraordinary. It can only be compared to Fritz Lang's "M", or the "Third Man". Very little actually happens and dialogue is used sporadically. Yet we find ourselves caring very much about the people about whom we know so little.

An unforgettable film.

While singing in a lower class quarter in Paris, the street singer Albert (Albert Préjean) falls in love with the Romanian party girl Pola (Pola Illéry), who is the companion of the gangster Fred (Gaston Modot). One night, Albert meets with Pola, who has just found that Fred had stolen her key, and his friend Louis (Edmond T. Gréville) proposes to toss to date her. However, Albert brings her to his room and they spend the night together, with Albert sleeping on the floor and Pola on his bed. Early in the morning, the pickpocket Émile (Bill Bocket) brings a bag with stolen pieces and asks Albert to keep the bag for him. When the police busts Albert's room and finds the stolen goods, he is arrested and sent to jail. Meanwhile Fred travels and Pola seeks comfort with Louis, and they stay together. When Émile is arrested by the police, he confesses that Albert is innocent and he is released and seeks out Pola. Meanwhile Fred returns to Paris and also seeks out Pola that is with Louis. The three men that are under the spell of the gorgeous lady dispute her love and only one wins.

"Sous les Toits de Paris" is a film with a wonderful transition between silent and sound eras. This is the first René Clair's film that I watched and I found very original and interesting the style of this director that uses the acting of silent movies with gestures and facial expressions and dialogs instead of intertitles, everything supported by the marvelous song "Sous les Toits de Paris" and impressive camera work. The paradox of this delightful film are the low-life characters, composed by pickpocket (Émile); gangster (Fred); a pickpocket that steals the girl of his friend (Louis); and an easy woman (Pola). It is also unusual that the girl does not end the story with the good guy, showing no commercial concern like in most of the Hollywood movies. Not only Albert, Fred and Louis, but I have also been bewitched by the beauty and charm of Pola Illéry. I did not find any information about the death of this actress in Internet. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Sob os Tetos de Paris" ("Under the Ceilings of Paris")

René Clair's early sound films are amongst the best ever made. Le Million (1931), Quatorze Juillet (1933), and Under the Roofs of Paris (1930) are masterpieces of musical comedy and romance (I leave out perhaps his most famous, À nous la liberté, which I need to see again). Under the Roofs of Paris is the loose but good story of a young street singer (Albert Préjean) who falls in love with a girl (Pola Illéry). He has an uneasy relationship with a couple of pickpockets (including Gaston Modot, who also made L'Âge d'or with Buñuel the same year) who like to work when he's demonstrating his talent. In the film's opening scene, there is an amazingly edited sequence of one of these men at work. Everyone wants Pola, including Albert's best friend, Louis, and when Albert is framed for burglary, they don't think twice about going after her. Clair's direction moves like silk. It's so supple. The camera movements, full of crane shots and pans, is technically stunning, especially for the time but even now. And the use of sound is absolutely revolutionary. It's more or less half silent, half talkie. Unlike many early sound films, Clair keeps the dialogue to a minimum, so it's never clunky. Characters only speak when they have to; at other times, they gesture. The film is often described as a musical, but it is not. There are two songs, and the music arises diagetically from an accordion player. The music, and the use of music, are quite amazing. This is one of the most wonderful movies ever made.