Daguerreotypes

Agnes Varda presents a loving view at the shop-owners of her street with much care for their everyday lives, their biographies and a keen eye for detail.

The film is about lives of shopkeepers living on the same street. They were asked the same questions-When did they move here? How did each of them meet their spouse? What is their dream? The film also shows their daily lives-opening the shop, attending to customers, doing their jobs.

The person who impresses me the most in this film is the lady of the perfume shop, whose name I'm not sure if it's Marcele or not. She is really outstanding. She talks the least in this film. She smiles the least. But the expression on her face and her eyes are undescribable. By just being herself, she is mysterious. There's something about her which makes this film extraordinary. She seems to be the living proof of some facts of life. She is the opposite of the word `superficial.' And Varda seemed to realize that while filming. Varda let the camera focus on her many times. And everytime she's in the frame, there's something magical in the air. Moreover, that lady also provides one of the funniest scenes in this movie. But that scene is not only very funny, it also reflects an ironic truth of some people's lives. I don't know whether to laugh or cry for this scene. And I have to ask myself if my life is somehow similar to her.

The last part of the film touches me deeply and strongly. It's the part about their dreams. And the last sentence which Varda said plus the last image of the film somehow move me to tears, though it's not something sad at all. On the surface, the last scene is very ordinary. This scene would have no effect if it stands alone. But when it was put at the end of the film, this scene is emotionally and spiritually extraordinary.

Another interesting thing about this film is that it totally changes my feelings towards a photo. Before I saw this film, I'd seen its promotional photo-the picture of the bakery couples-and I felt nothing. It was just a photo of strangers. But after seeing the film, I look at the same photo again, and I am overwhelmed by some feelings. After you've learned about their lives and their dreams, after you have seen their smiles and observed their daily lives, they are not strangers any more. Looking at the same photo, I have the same feeling as I would have by opening my family albums and seeing photos of someone in my old neighborhood. The photo reminds me of their lives, and makes me wonder how they are now. This film really makes me wonder how lives on that street are now.

Last, but not least, I also like the technique of intercutting scenes of daily lives with scenes on the magician's stage. Varda seems to have a lot of fun connecting these scenes together by some amusing links-such as when both scenes refer to `losing head.' This clever juxtaposition of scenes create a lot of laughter among the audience. But I think the most important effect of this technique is that it makes the audience realize that our daily lives-our normal boring every day lives-indeed have some magic in it. This film has proved very well that ordinary people have so many interesting things to tell, and it also helps some of us to realize how magical life is.

Daguerréotypes (1976) was written and directed by Agnès Varda.

The movie gives us portraits of the people that occupy the small shops of the Rue Daguerre, in Paris, where the filmmaker lived. Rue Daguerre is in the 14th arrondissement. It is, indeed, named in honor of Louis Daguerre, the inventor of one of the earliest photographic techniques. Photographs made using this process are called daguerreotypes, so Varda's title has a double meaning. Her film is a photographic image of the street on which she lived, which was named after someone who made photographic images possible.

Although I think Rue Daguerre is more touristic now, in 1976 it was a residential street filled with small shops. Some of the shops were basic--a bakery, a butcher shop. But some were more specialized, like a perfumery. The shops are run by middle-aged couples--the classic French bourgeoisie.

Varda brings us into these shops, where the people know her and where they apparently talk very freely with her. To an outsider, they're just people who run a shop. To Varda, they are all people with an interesting story to tell. They tell her their stories, and she shares them with us.

This is movie in which not much happens, and there really isn't any plot. The film is a documentary about a time, a place, and the people who lived at that time in that place. Varda is a talented filmmaker who saved that time, that place, and those people for us to see. Her talent shines through, even 40 years later.

We saw Daguerréotypes at the excellent Dryden Theatre in the George Eastman Museum in Rochester, NY. It was part of an Agnès Varda retrospective, sponsored by Rochester Institute of Technology and the Eastman Museum. It will work very well on a small screen.

It's not exactly a documentary nor a fiction film. It's more of a magical diary on the rue de Dagerre and the people who lived there on that named street. The fiction part and the interview elements all blended well together forming an amusing half tales half fact.. I can't explain it well enough so please go try see it for yourselves and you will never regret and think of all non fiction films as cold heart materials again.

The earnest simplicity of this documentary is wonderfully endearing, enchanting, and altogether gratifying. It is in turn a time capsule of a specific time and place, a slice of life portraiture, and an examination of the mundane and familiar that are so easily overlooked. In the filmmaker's narration are provided tinges of thoughtful rumination that are almost poetic, a mild flourish which at once accentuates the banality and normalcy of what she captures with her camera while also lending a slight whimsical, nostalgic flavor. Scarcely has Agnès Varda's 'Daguerréotypes' begun and it's easy to kind of get swept up in the sincerity and pleasantness that it represents.

In casting her gaze on the shops near her home, the storefronts and their products, the shopkeepers, and the people who frequent them, Varda encourages a measure of introspection for we viewers. How often do we stop and truly think about the homes and businesses that are a mere stone's throw from our door? Regarding our neighbors and passers-by with politeness, civility, and kindness is one matter; how much do we really know about them? Who are they, what are their interests, what is going on in their own lives? How much do we ever pause in our daily lives to consider the ins and outs of how a shop operates, during and outside of business hours, even if it's one that we regularly visit? Varda may be taking a look at Rue Daguerre in the mid 1970s, but there are thoughts and gentle lessons here that we can take with us and apply to any time or place.

These are the notions one may readily draw from 'Daguerréotypes,' and they form the understated ethos guiding the production such as it is. But this is not a documentary with any overt hypothesis, or a point to make; Varda pointedly declines any sort of commentary or assertion. The closest this comes to "embellishment," or exceeding its very low-key, matter-of-fact tone, is in showcasing street musicians, or the performance of a magician who is touring the area. Otherwise this is very happily nothing more than a record of the sights and sounds of the street where Varda lived, and in that alone, it's uniquely fascinating. Factor in some footage of butchers, bakers, tailors, hair stylists, music teachers, and so on practicing their trade, and there's an unmistakable air of warmth and vitality course through these eighty minutes. And then there's the shrewd editing, at times juxtaposing similar moments and at others disparate ones, which results in turn in some striking sequencing, and at other points real laughs and entertainment. Honestly, there are times when this is downright ingenious, and I can only commend Varda for the vision that assembles this into something far richer than it seems at first blush.

However one might come across this feature it never pretends to be anything it's not. It may not readily appeal to all comers, but those for whom it holds no interest will have no problem looking right past and moving on. On the other hand, for those who are receptive to what Varda is doing with this film, it's immediately engrossing and plainly charming. 'Daguerréotypes' boasts a level of heartfelt genuineness, and absolute authenticity, that even many other documentaries often lack. It's easy as a viewer to stop and reflect that the filmmaker is giving us a peek at a world frozen in time, a look and feel that is no more and never will be again, but it's enough to just sit and admire this 1976 picture exactly as it is. One perhaps doesn't need to go out of their way to see this, but if you do have the chance to watch, as far as I'm concerned 'Daguerréotypes' is an exquisite little project, well worth the time it takes to watch and then some.