Jacquot de Nantes

This film, Agnes Varda's loving tribute to both Jacques Demy and to the playful joy of cinema, is a great idea executed with a beguiling sincerity and containing some wonderful moments that make up for it's flaws and that make the film very worth seeing.

Concentrating on Demy's childhood in working class France of the 1940's, the film often doesn't quite go far enough into absorbing us into it's world. It can be sketchy at times. Just about all of the characters other than the young Demy are blurry and weak. The details of the time and place are often sparse in a way that distances. When World War II begins, we would hardly know it if not for a few minor mentions of it as well as a brief, unconvincing moment involving a German soldier wandering his way into the scene of a family gathering. We don't quite get a vivid enough impression of where Demy comes from.

However, all of this doesn't matter during the wonderfully funny, charming scenes of the young Jacques making his first films. The scenes of his working on a stop-motion animated film set in a cardboard city he builds in his basement are particularly witty and fun to watch.

The film also contains some most valuable footage of Demy himself reflecting on the past and, to sometimes charming effect, the film intersperses several clips from his films (The Pied Piper, Lola, Umbrellas of Cherbourg) throughout, highlighting the influence of childhood memories on his later work.

Jacquot is recommended. It makes you want to see again (or see for the first time) the films of Jacques Demy and most anyone who has had their life taken over by cinema will be able to pick out the most innocent, inspiring parts of themselves out of the film's better moments.

My second Varda's entry (after CLEO FROM 5 TO 7 1962, 7/10) is her cinematic eulogy to her late husband, the filmmaker Jacques Demy (1931-1990) after 28 years of marriage, who passed away one year before the film's release, recounts Demy's life from childhood to adolescence in Nantes, re-enacts mostly sketchy episodes of that time from Demy's memoir, particularly during the Occupied France in WWII and Jacquot (Jacques' nickname) 's ever-growing passion towards cinema.

Named after his paternal grandfather, it is unexpectedly poignant when a young Jacques (played by Maron, Joubeau and Monnier in different ages) is bringing to visit his grandpa's grave and see his own name on the tombstone, as if the reincarnation just completes another circle. Demy's father Raymond (Dublet) is a mechanic and his mother Marilou (De Villepoix) is a coiffeuse, they own a garage and he has a younger brother Yvon (Delaroche, Averty in different ages). Most of the narrative is conveyed with unaffected naturalism by its cast under a blanched monochrome, with whimsical coloured-shots materialise irregularly and presumably function as indicators which influence Demy's life afterwards, like Theatre Guignol.

Varda's essayist construal of the biographical texts largely restores Jacquot's early years in a lifelike form, as a documentary made in 1930-40s, details mostly convivial vignettes with references in Demy's own distinguished oeuvre - in my case I only watched DONKEY SKIN (1970, 4/10) and THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG (1964, 7/10) - introduced and bookended by opposite pointing fingers respectively, and underlined with a miscellany of Demy's favourite classical music.

From a carefree child who enjoys marionette show, to a bit older in the Occupation period, becomes repulsive towards the war, then in the latter half, the film's focus shifts to the zealousness of cinema, not only a frequent spectator, the young Jacquot self-studies rudimentary knowledge of cinematography, makes his own live-action and animation shorts with a hand-hold camera bartered from an antique shop, and plays them at home on an ersatz screen set in the closet. Destiny has been kind to him, a chief struggle is his working-class father's initial disagreement of Demy's decision to throw himself into the movie business, but when he realises his son does have the talent, he is sensible enough to let him go to Paris, where the film eventually draws to a close.

JACQUOT DE NANTES is Varda's personal but endearing portrayal of her beloved husband, a farewell visual memoir of him, there are brief documentaries of an ailing Demy talking feebly in his last days, and near-end, the macro close-ups of his wrinkles, grey stubble and finally zoom in on his nebulous eyes, like a valedictory gaze during the final stage of a sacred catharsis to let him go, the film itself stands as a testimony of their ever-lasting love, poetically and romantically, it evokes great intimacy towards those we love and cherishes the time when we are together.

Absolutely nobody.

After all,they were married for 33 years ,their career began at roughly the same time,with the rise of the Nouvelle Vague ;Among the -sometimes outrageously overrated - directors of that school,Varda and Demy were among the less pretentious and their best works (mainly Demy) have stood the test of time quite well.

One cannot like Demy and not watch this documentary:it was made with love,taste and skill.Combining Demy's childhood,his hometown memories - his wildest dreams were to make shows-with the stories he transferred to the screen,Varda explores the genesis of them all,and her work is absorbing.Nantes ,"Lola" 's town ,should be remembered as Jacques Demy's hometown .Hence the title of the documentary.

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.

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.