Cleo dalle 5 alle 7

I took a walk after seeing this and felt cleansed like always after a great film, the night fresh. More so than womanhood or death, this is about having lived a life. She believes she's dying from cancer as the film begins, but of course we have to wait until the end to get the hospital results.

The Tarot cards of the opening are an entry; artifice, images in place of the real thing, and yet the old woman is spontaneous enough (or contriving) to improvise a story they supposedly tell, some of it vaguely correct, some not, but a story that just so happens to hit on the problem of her suffering and unlock personal truth.

The problem is desire, something we think is wrong with life. The filmmaker unveils in the early stages a marvelous space of desire, as poignant as any of Resnais' spaces on memory (the other debilitating facet of mind); the girl in a precious hat shop, safe on this side of the shop glass, gliding among and admiring trinkets we have come up with to dress life, make it more beautiful than it is.

Yet of course life has an ugliness we can't dress, but that's not out there, no hat will fix it. It's the constant vexation with things not being just perfect (which is desire for them to be other than they are), a lover who is not always there, a piano player who doesn't fawn over her singing talent. It's not just her of course, at a cafe we hear people complaining about all sorts of things.

What underpins this is ego, that self who must be at the center of things, the filmmaker playfully sketches this in a rehearsal scene, where as she sings, with a small pan of the camera we find her singing directly to us as if center stage for an imaginary audience, the center of attention.

But there's also, along the way, a bubbly friend who is open enough about things to pose naked for a sculpting class. Another marvelous image here, a naked body which does not have to overthink its place in the room, which can freely let others take away a glimpse that they can chisel into shape, something she can give of her that she doesn't lose.

It's all about the view we bring to life, the air of realization through which we see, the appearances we cultivate. This is beautifully rendered in a film-within the two girls see, a silent where a man throws away his dark glasses that obscured the way things really were to find his girl alive and well, she had just tripped, no one died. It's this easy.

But how can it be easy when she's dying?

The film doesn't clearly reveal, the doctor's unworried look can mean either of the two things. But of course that day will come just the same, it could be months or decades away. What's left then? Having lived a day just like this, having taken walks like these with a soldier in the park, bus rides like these through the first day of summer.

This is beautiful stuff, more simple but as deep about the life of appearances and consciousness as Hiroshima mon amour. It reminds me of the cheeky Buddhist saying that explains how there has never been anything wrong from the start.

Something to meditate upon.

You had it all, but now the world is caving in, it's like a wallop from a boxer on the chin, nobody cares, they can't perceive, of the news you've just received, but you must wait for confirmation, in tailspin. So you walk around the streets with your sights guarded, in a world that's so intense, you feel bombarded, but it should come as no surprise, as others open up your eyes, that those fears and trepidations, can be discarded.

Florence 'Cléo' Victoire goes through the mill, as any of us would, coming to terms with the news that she may have a serious illness at such a young age, and finding out, in a relatively short period of time, that the sky will not fall down, and that there are those always willing to help out.

Beautifully performed and superbly imagined and directed.

It's not like I simply love everything that is French. Au contraire! But there is no denying it that French movies from the old days often have something very special about them. Artistic, quiet, beautiful, engaging and for from boring, even though not an awful lot is always happening in it, as is also the case with this movie.

It actually is its simplicity that makes this movie. Everything is very clear about this movie; we know who the main characters is and what she is going through. It's a movie without little complications to its story and instead decides to simply follow its main character and a couple of hours of her life.

Another beautiful thing about this movie is that it's actually about a pretty heavy and serious subject. This movie could had so easily turned into something dramatic and sentimental but it instead feels like a very positive movie. It's a nice spin to the genre and it takes a real pleasant approach, that also helps to make this movie a very engaging one.

This is at least what I got from this movie. As often is the case with these sort of movies, you might get something totally different out of it. It's also obviously being filled with metaphors and symbolism, without this ever becoming too distracting by the way. But because of this storytelling approach, you might interpret things different as I did, so it really still above all things is something you have to experience for yourself.

It's a beautifully shot movie with some great camera-work at times. The movie is deliberately being kept small and simplistic, with both its story and visuals, which all was something director Agnès Varda obviously understood- and handled very well. It's a subtly done film, that perhaps requires multiple viewing to fully get everything out of it.

Nicely done genre film with a great approach to it.

8/10

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A film about living life in the shadow of death, about how viewing the world without sunglasses lets in the light, and shows us the truth. This beautful movie is made with surging energy and a lightness of touch by Agnes Varda, the immortal poet of French cinema. It is superbly constructed while feeling as if it were being made up as it goes along. The camera captures a Paris that in some ways has disappeared but in others is still with us and which I hope will remain forever.

Corinne Marchand is forever Cleo, a singer waiting for the result of a recent medical test. When she sings her "Sans Toi", your eyes will fill with tears; when she vamps her way down the steps in Montsouris Park, you'll smile your broadest smile. Around her, life teems -- friends, colleagues, strangers and their children, animals, trees, overheard conversations, momentary remarks -- all observed with a keen eye and endless compassion by Varda and her team.

Ten stars for this? No. A thousand. It's beyond rating. For me, this sits among the highest achievements of cinema. CLEO will live forever.

I loved this film. I wasn't expecting to, but from the very beginning you are drawn into Cleo's world. You understand a woman whom nobody understands, something that is extremely hard to do but Agnes Varda carries it off beautifully. Her coworkers don't care for her, her lover isn't really in-tune with her life, and her best friend likes her, but is busy with her own life. It isn't until she meets the someone new, someone who like herself is about to face a real danger, that she not only faces her problem, but can in a sense conquer it. It's not an easy film to explain, but it's beautifully done and a true winner. I heard that they want to remake it with Madonna. It would be nice for it to be in English, but a remake isn't necessary. They certainly got it right the first time.