The French Open

Paris, Je T’Aime & Angel-A
The City of High-Lights
PJT’A Trailer | Ang Trailer

Like most things American, we take something lovely and wonderful from another country and bastardize it (The Office is the rare eggception). Nowalays, when one thinks of Paris, it may be easier to follow it with ‘Hilton’ than with ‘France’. Tis quite a cryin shame mon ami, and to the French, it muss be a giant au bon pain in the arse. I mean, juss imagine if a Frenchie native directed Marie Antoinette instead of Coppola Lady. It coulda been something really worth writing home about, instead of sum tang that peddled soundtracks and stoopid anachronistic Chuck Taylors. Well, the French, although cowards in warfare, are not when in comes to filmdom, for they are true artistes!

Paris, Je T’Aime is overloaded with artistes. 20 internationally renown directors shot 20 short vignettes (starring way more than 20 actors, includin such hotness as Natalie Portman, Ludivine Sagnier, Catalina Sandeno Moreno, and our even our current royal thighness!) about the city that dem peeps amour. While the hits to misses ratio was about even (not the same as comparing Stanley Nickels to Schrute Bucks), I still enjoyed everything single lil trifle that they threw up on the screen. The only reason why some of the misses truly missed was cause when their time was up, the story necessarily wasn’t. Maybe they could chucked a handful of them away and given some additional minutes to the butter ones, which would include Alexander Payne‘s brills ’14th arrondissement’, Tom Tykwer’s manic ‘Faubourg Saint-Denis’, the Coen Bros’ Coenesque ‘Tuileries’ and Oliver Schmitz’s poetic ‘Place des Fêtes’. Hmmm, an ode to Paris and all the bestest bits were handed in from peeps living outside of France? What gives! That goes against my whole point in the first paragraph. Well there’s at least one French director that I know of who could paint the loveliest picture of Paris…

Luc Besson. Where the eff and gee have you been? Besides producing Transporter I – XVIXMXXVC, your geniusness has been self-shelved since ’99 when you dropped The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc on us. ’99? Well the world has changed, but Besson has not. Angel-A got’s the usual Besson touches: a strong quirky woman, an odd quirky man, colorful thugs and deli-ish-YES cinematography. I wouldn’t say that this film, back in his native tongue and in glorious B&W, belongs on the top-shelf next to his Nikita, The Professional or The Fifth Element, so lettuce juss call it a mos welcome back party and a promise of better things to come

Netflex: to hell with France and to heaven with hit/miss vingennted flicks, so why not peep out Jim Jarmusch’s Coffee & Cigarettes [TWS review|trailer]

I Heart: be on the look out for Paris, Je T’Aime‘s brothers, about loving NY and… CHINA?!?

Apt MPupil3: anything by Édith Piaf

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): both are Jeepers Worth A Peepers!•

until next thyme the balcony is clothed…

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