I first heard of
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg when
george said he believed the purist expression of cinema is a musical. When I asked him which film he thought should be dubbed a "Spout Essential,"
Umbrellas was at the top of his list. At first, I thought he was just being goofy. But after watching this film, I understand what he means.
From the opening shot of
Umbrellas, director
Jacques Demy is communicating that everything you're about to see is maticulously choreographed and beautifully shot. (If you're somebody who has ever muted a Wong Kar Wai film and just watched the cinematography, stop reading this post and buy
Umbrellas now.) Every set is decorated to pop from the screen, every costume is timeless, every movement is choreographed, every strand of hair on Catherine Deneuve's head is attended to, and every word is perfectly scripted. Every word has to be scripted because every line of dialogue is sung. All this amounts to a film which constantly reminds you it's totally contrived and artificial. There's no attempt to achieve that holy grail called The Suspension of Disbelief (the point where an audience forgets they're watching a movie). It's a movie that's so contrived and "unrealistic" you can't forget you're watching a movie.
So, you'd think this melodramatic musical of two ill-fated lovers would be novel, but ultimately a bore. Not true!
The Umbrellas of Cherburg is a film which defies reason. I can't explain it. It's a simple love story--a melodrama really--where everybody's singing. But more than once I found myself saying "No, Genevieve," as tears filled my eyes.
True, Catherine Deneuve's face alone will make elephants weep, but there's something more. It's like no other experience I've ever had with a film. Which is why
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a Spout Essential. It's like no other two hours you've ever spent watching a movie.
Every film is contrived. All films--including documentaries--boil down one person making a cut to make the movie say what that person wants it to say. Most filmmakers take the route of getting you so engrossed with action scenes and sexual tension, you forget you're watching a movie. So, I guess George is right. If a musical like
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg--which never tries to trick you into thinking you're not watching a movie--can be so contrived and still make an emotional connection, it is a pure expression of cinema.