Our trip to Mont. St. Michel fell through for yesterday and today and so the French coastline will have to do its best to resist erosion and remain intact for me the next time around. I'll plan better next time and buy train tickets in advance. To replace the experience, I didn't have to look very much further than La Rue Champollion right on the Sorbonne's cheek. Paris streets are very narrow and this one is no exception, but very few cars travel down this road leaving it free for we pedestrians who like to stretch our legs and arms. La Rue Champollion has another characteristic that is unlike anything I've ever seen before in my life. Anything. In. My. Life. On this street, which is shorter than an American city block, are 3 cinemas right next door to each other. Three independent French cinemas! When I say right next to each other, I don't mean that there is an office in between one and a brasserie in between another. I mean RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO EACH OTHER. You walk out one door and take fifteen steps and walk right into the next one. It is astonishing and I'll put money on it that in this world we live in, I could count all similar places on two hands.
If your gums are bleeding now, than listen to this. Playing at Le Champo, the cinema on the corner, was a selection of Tim Burton films. They called it a 'cycle'. How fresh. But that is hardly the kicker. Also screening was a cycle of Antonioni, including Blow-Up, La Nuit, and others. I'm not finished! Showing five times a day all week long was Antonioni's Zabriskie Point, a pretty obscure film that WB buried back in the 70s that I just adore. I'm still not finished! Zabriskie Point played at this movie theater for two consecutive weeks, five times a day. Need I remind you it is 2008, not 1970. I think I can safely guarantee you that this has not happened ever in history and it would certainly never happen in the United States of America. I'm not bad mouthing. Just saying. I mean if you've seen this picture, then you know it's not a money maker. Exhibitors don't clog up phone lines trying to score prints of this movie. I'm serious. I really don't think this has ever happened before, notwithstanding my being famously naive. Never happen in the US. Never anywhere. Who's in charge over here? Dear lord.
A little more about moviegoing in France which I admit is limited to only a few tiny theaters and the Cinematheque Francaise, but honestly, what more evidence do you need, Counselor? The theaters are tiny(except the Salle Langlois at CF) and they make you wait outside until they open the screening room, which is about five or ten minutes before showtime. No concessions anywhere except maybe a vending machine. Bathrooms are unisex and an afterthought. No trailers or commercials. The lights dim and the movie just starts. If you stand outside La Filmotheque Latin Quartier, you can hear the sound of the projector clipping away through a vent, mixing with the sound of Parisian traffic. It's delightful. Finally, an air raid siren I can endure. The theaters are also very warm so remember to peel off any extra layers so you don't cook.
For St. Valentine's Day, I spent my afternoon with Zabriskie at Le Champo and a glorious masterpiece that is better than 90% of everything made nowadays called Les Chaussons Rouge, The Red Shoes at La Filmotheque. According to Powell & Pressburger, a bullseye. It is about how and why people die for art and much much more. When Lermontov says, "Put on the red shoes, Vicky, and dance for us.", you just want to stand up and scream, DO IT VICKY! No one has ever danced The Red Shoes since Victoria Page and no one will again. Hot damn. That's the ticket. I think this movie perfectly encapsulates the drive and ambition people have toward les beaux arts. Craster, Page and Lermontov are so ambitious, with the latter the apex of it all. He has nothing else but this drive to create the greatest dancer and ballet and art. It is insatiable and calculated and monstrous, but it is real and I have no doubt in my mind, and neither does Victoria, that Lermontov could indeed create the greatest dancer out of her. Holy moly. Holy crap. If there is any doubt in anyone's mind that the cinema is not worth preserving, then watch this movie and you'll be writing checks faster than you can say Scorsese.
Who's in charge over here? Mon Dieu.
Coming home on Monday. I'll miss many things, but Europe does not have everything. Yes, I mean great fish tacos and root beer.
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NICE Blog :)
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