Porte des Lilas

I saw Porte des Lilas, called The Gates of Paris in English, back in 1957 - fresh out of high school fascinated with foreign films, especially of the French and Italians. Maybe because I was an awkward and romantic teenager myself, I must have related to the awkward and romantic Juju, the oafish man in love with the beautiful girl, frustrated by her mis-directed love for the deceitful but charismatic hoodlum. Clair was a wonderful filmmaker, and I have always remembered this film vividly. It was Paris and romance and danger to me.

At the time of the movie's American release (as Gates of Paris), I had just discovered the songs of Georges Brassens, and I went to see it strictly because he was in it. The original novel was written by a close friend of his, and L'Artiste, the taciturn, solitary bard he plays, seems to have been based very much on Brassens himself. The film turned out to be a delightful, warmhearted work, holding up remarkably well on repeated viewings, and Brassens makes an excellent deadpan foil for the great Pierre Brasseur. And the songs he wrote for the film remain among the best of his classic repertoire. It's a hard movie to find these days, but I recommend it highly.

Another time ...another place ;even in 1957,"Porte Des Lilas" was already out of time ,lost in the mists of the Réalisme Poétique when they would dream of going away to the sunny places (Juju who wants to take Maria to the sweet Riviera)

It's odd that the Nouvelle Vague did champion Clair who was more old-fashioned than their Bêtes Noires such as Decoin,Duvivier,Clouzot who were making more innovative stuff then.

Hindsight displays Clair's film charms : it marks the final sigh of a moribund school of cinema ; this is par excellence cinema-in -the-studio ,which recreates the outskirts of Paris ;the past was bottled and labelled with love ;characters such as Juju or Barbier -the-baddie are the last of their kind ;ditto for Maria who considers the gangster a Don Juan .

A delightful scene shows Juju trying to steal a bottle of wine from the innkeeper (the colorful Philippe Clay ) ; another sequence seems almost surrealistic:in a modest grocery ,there are lots of foie gras cans ,which is rather implausible :who,on this block,can afford such luxury ?

There's also this anarchism dear to singer Georges Brassens whose song "L'Amendier " laughs at the cops searching his house ,not realizing this song is about them ;it's all the more precious since it's the only appearance by Brassens,one of the greatest French singers of all time , on the silver screen.The rapport he has with veteran Pierre Brasseur is warm and cheerful :they really seem to have a good time together,when they savor their (stolen) foie gras ;they have a thing about the gendarmes and they naively think that a cop's ennemy is a friend in need ;their disappointment will be great when the gangster (Henri Vidal ,the most popular actor of the era) unmasks himself.

Except for the last minutes,it's not really a film noir ; it's a goodbye to an era ;seen today ,the movie is a time capsule of a world slowly fading away ,that of the little groceries (soon to be swallowed by the supermarkets) of the quiet places (where cars were almost unknown) ,of old radio sets they would sell on the market place ,of holidays in the sun only in dreams ....

An escaped murderer (Henri Vidal) finds refuge in the cellar of a poor artist's house, where the artist and his derelict friend (George Brassens and Pierre Brasseur) help him out. The film is notable because of its cast - legendary singer Brassens in his only movie appearance, Vidal in a comeback film after one of his many rounds of rehab, and Brasseur in a lovable role that's both comedic and heartfelt. Dany Carrel is also strong as the smart young barmaid who uncovers the secret but then finds herself falling in love, and my goodness, she's stunning besides.

At its heart, and in a lighthearted way, the film examines the limits of selfish and selfless behavior. It's a little stagey in its story-telling and probably too light to be considered film noir, but the biggest issue is in character motivation - it just doesn't seem likely that the irascible character Vidal plays would get such help, and for so long. On the other hand, it's quite watchable, and it engages us early on, with Brassens singing a couple of songs while strumming his guitar, and Brasseur cleverly sneaking drinks from the local bar. He also steals ten cans of foie gras for his friend, and something about how he hurries around with them, then has to hide them from the police by tossing them out the window tickled me. He's a character whose laziness and mooching make him hard to like early on, but whose kindness and unrequited love make us feel for him as the film plays out.

Director René Clair tells the story well and gives us some nice shots, such as a scene of kids running around in the streets chasing and pretending to shoot at each other while Vidal's backstory is related. He also blends comedy, romance, and drama in a warm, entertaining tale.

I found this a pretty strange film at times. Rene Clair was a great stylist as anybody who has seen A nous la liberte, I Married a Witch, Les grandes manoeuvres and others knows. Here he has moved onto Marcel Carne's territory. I kept thinking of Le jour se leve, or Les portes de la nuit or L'air de Paris: somebody else's aesthetic and content. Pierre Brasseur, who always projected a great confidence and sometimes a ferocious masculinity, here seems out of place as a timid man who drinks too much and has too few outlets for his energy. He really breaks loose in the dancehall scene when he picks up Dany Carrel and spins her around, daring anybody to stop him. Otherwise he goes glumly around the neighbourhood, bearing the brunt of children's insults (these kids are the most overactive in any French film). Georges Brassens made no more films after this one; he shows little talent for acting but boy, can he sing. And you get a lot of his singing here. Raymond Bussieres and Carrel as father and daughter do very good work, Henri Vidal (who had a lot of muscles, as well as being Michele Morgan's husband) plays a homicidal creep well enough. Overall, a minor work by a great director whose best days were past him.