I'm in a French mood, thanks to two of the three movies I saw this weekend.
"Mozart's Sister" and "Sarah's Key"
The former got good reviews for its cinematography, but really, the editing was strange and the lead actress, Marie Feret, passionless. That might be the script's fault. It meandered. All over the place. The movie was more a series of vignettes than a story. But I loved the one that showed Nannerl in Paris, teaching music, and bending down at the end of a lesson so her young pupil could give her a "baiser" before leaving. That scene, so French, in the closeness and distance described in one moment.
The latter suffered from the same fault as the book: halfway through, the heroine, Sarah Starzynski disappears; and at the end she is a cipher. I love Paris, and to think of what happened to the French Jews there during W
orld War II, as described in "Sarah's Key" is past awful. Credit to Tatiana de Rosnay for bringing this story to light. But the film fails on the same level as the book, Kristin Scott Thomas notwithstanding.Bien. Pour ce soir, c'est tout.
L'image est de le Metro de Pittsburgh, une piece de Romare Bearden.
No comments:
Post a Comment