Le Chant des sirènes

Wow. There are four rather fine things in this, and one that ruins it all.

First the good. The key role is perfectly realized. Though the supporting actors and the way things are staged are mundane, this actress and the writer/directer created someone memorable. This was Napoleon Dynamite before he was cool.

While dialog and pacing are uneven, the music isn't. It is uniformly apt. The performance and the music alone are just about enough to sustain the thing until the end.

And there's one brilliant piece of stagecraft. Some paintings figure in the plot. These paintings have impressed our heroine who -- it is made explicit -- is our narrator. She describes them as miraculous and when they are shown, they are blank, white glowing rectangles. Until this point, the imaginary and real segments are clearly distinguished, and when we see this clever trick, we move forward on our chair, waiting for what is next.

And the final great thing is the way the thing is structured. In several ways, we are told that this is an artwork that is about artwork and the "message" is both in the story and how the story is told: there are matters of authorship and genuineness; a bit about filming and being filmed; other bits about reality and representations of reality. Hey, we see, this is one smart woman behind this. And we lean ever more forward in the chair, ready to leap.

And then the end hits us with such a banal notion that we are gobsmacked back. Hey! Is that all? All that energy and cleverness to tell us something Art Linkletter or Reader's Digest could (and does)? Jees.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

What can one say? This is an utterly gorgeous film. It's sort of a cross between 'Brazil' and Woody Allen movies. You can always tell a good director by their choice of background music in their films. This film's director is expert at picking music that adds to the wonderment of many scenes perfectly. Polly the weirdo redhead was one of the great movie characters of the 1980's. You don't just see this film, you live it.

I usually don't watch movies more than once. But this lovely film is one that I have regular cravings for. It is so smart, unpretentious, and unassuming. It's subtle and multi-layered and such a treat to view.

It's a quiet film too, with refreshing insights and ideas about relationships. The contemplative pace of the film gives you time to enjoy the ideas and feelings that come up in the characters and in yourself. On more than one occasion while watching the film my breath was taken away with surprise and delight.

I guess another draw for me is the female characters: how refreshing to meet women who are multidimensional, portrayed with authority and authenticity (and having interesting faces I could watch forever).

And I love how the story is so simple, a late bloomer's coming of age (or rather coming into her creativity)--a 'bildungsroman' in a film about art.

Thanks Patricia Rozema et al! What a treasure.

The wonder of this film, like one of the paintings it features, can't be described in words. It is pure magic in the most abstract form! One can't help but adore Polly's originality (Sheila McCarthy). This is a fantastically crafted and acted film. It will trigger your imagination and place a smile on your face. After the film is over, you won't be able to stop dreaming. I can't watch it enough! It is very sad that it is no longer in print (at least last I checked) and I am very lucky to have purchased it in the Laser Disc format when I did. I have been a fan of this film since I was 20 and am still a fan 14 years

Good things often come in surprisingly small packages, and this Canadian export is a very small thing indeed: a low budget sleeper describing the private world of Polly Vandersma, the 'organizationally impaired' Person Friday and part-time assistant for the curator of a high-brow Toronto art gallery. Painfully shy, prone to daydreams and distraction, socially inept and insecure, Polly is a simple person attracted to what she calls 'art things': obscure painting, modern architecture, the oblique language of intellectuals. It's a world she's not well equipped for (to say the least), and after developing an innocent crush on her curator boss she learns the hard way exactly how cold the world of 'art things' can be. Her story is both poignant and funny, built around the framing device of Polly's odd, confessional video diary, in which she recounts the one, glorious moment in her otherwise negligible life when she broke free of her shell. But the real secret behind the fragile charm of the movie is Sheila McCarthy's disarming star performance, capturing all of Polly's clumsy optimism and curiosity. Originally shown with 'Paradiso', a long (long) animated wet dream from the Age of Aquarius.