enochpsnow

Paris, je t'aime, is an interesting melange of 18 vignettes directed by a host of different directors. Naturally, certain sequences are considerably more affecting than others. "Loin du 16ieme" is a rather profound look at the divide between rich and poor, as well as between native-born French women and the emigres imported to be their servants. "Quartier de la Madeleine" is a very powerful portrait of a drugged-out actress and her boyfriend/pusher. "Faubourg Saint-Denis" is a moving portrait of a young, frivolous actress (Natalie Portman), who plays with and then abandons a blind admirer. Many other sequences seem either incomplete ("Les Marais") or incomprehensible ("Porte de Choisy") but, on the whole, there are more good moments than bad in this film.

My disagreement with all those who have commented on this movie favorably is that somehow this movie is supposed to make its viewers love and and admire Paris and perhaps long to visit the "city of lights". But the Paris shown in this film is in large measure an alcoholic, drugged-out, impoverished, and decadent society essentially living off the glories of its past. The only even remotely enthusiastic characters in the film are the Americans and Englishmen who are visiting: the French characters seem depressed, washed up, and largely incapable of action. I am sure that Paris remains an inspiring and beautiful city -- as it has been through the centuries. But one would never know it from watching this sorrowful portrait of a once glorious city on the way out. Love this Paris? Really?

I am sorry that "Without A Trace" went off the air after five years, though I agree with other reviewers that it had probably exhausted its possibilities. The show had many things going for it: a first-rate cast, a set of often surprising plot twists, and an ability to look at some of the darkest parts of New York city life. Anthony LaPaglia, as the head of the FBI missing- persons unit, gave a set of performances that were truly gripping: his character was always tough, devoted, and often very reserved, but there was always an enormous amount of passion locked within him which would come out at the most desperate moments. The rest of the cast were uniformly good, and I agree with many other observers that Marianne Jean-Baptiste was a superb actress and a perfect colleague for LaPaglia's plain-spoken FBI man.

It is true, though, that as the years went by, the script writers appear to have run out of ideas about missing/abducted/brutalized persons and turned more and more to examining the personal lives of the FBI agents. We had love affairs between LaPaglia and Montgomery, Close and Montgomery, and Murciano and Sanchez, not to mention the collapse of LaPaglia's character's marriage, and the show did become more and more of a soap opera. It was probably at that point that the show started to lose the interest of its viewers.

But the single most important relationship in the show -- not a romantic relationship so much as a deeply personal relationship between two characters who really respected each other, even when they fought with each other -- was the relationship between LaPaglia's character and Jean-Baptiste's character. They were the stars of the show, and the way they agreed but often disagreed about their jobs and their lives made the show the wonderful, poignant success that it was for so many years.

I agree with most of the IMDb reviewers in their appreciation for "Love in the Afternoon." It is a charming love story, made especially touching by the beautiful performance of Audrey Hepburn. A fine actress throughout her career, Hepburn's golden age was clearly the 1950s when her youthful innocence and eager, expectant face made the vulnerability of her characters seem entirely believable and very sympathetic. Having the aging Maurice Chevalier as her father in "Love in the Afternoon" was an inspired bit of casting, and the two of them seemed to fit perfectly as father and daughter.

But, of the major actors of the late fifties, Gary Cooper was probably the worst possible choice to play the young Hepburn's first great love, Mr. Flannagan. It is not so much that Cooper was too old a man to be the love interest of Hepburn's character, Ariane, although Cooper certainly looked very old and tired in the movie. Because Ariane is shown to be both innocent and impressionable, one could imagine her falling in love with an older and more sophisticated gentleman. In the movie "Funny Face," Hepburn plays a character like Ariane who falls in love with the equally aged Fred Astaire, and that relationship seems quite believable.

The problem with casting Cooper in "Love in the Afternoon" is that Mr. Flannagan is supposed to be a rather heartless, love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of guy, while Cooper's entire career in later life was devoted to playing honest, honorable, loyal men of strong and unshakable convictions. Perhaps the definitive Cooper role in the 1950s was the sheriff in "High Noon." To have him play an aging, indifferent roué was an almost absurd bit of miscasting which, for me, did not seem believable for a minute.

"Love in the Afternoon" is a beautiful love story – often touching and, thanks to the gypsies, sometimes very funny. What a shame that Cary Grant, Tyrone Power, and Fred Astaire himself were not available to play the movie's leading man.