Paris, Paris - Monsieur Pigoil auf dem Weg zum Glück

Nora Arnezeder reminds me of movie stars of the thirties : beautiful, charming, she can sing, dance, act... Star quality ! As for the film itself, the story is rather simple, which I come to realize, is often what makes it good. It's not so much what the story is about but rather how you tell it. And in that case, you get to laugh, cry, you care about that Pigoil who looses his job, his wife and even his son and who doesn't lose hope, about Milou and Douce's love story. You'll love the great new songs, the homage to Busby Berkeley, Jacky's lousy jokes (a reprise of Kad's own TV skit) and secondary characters played by first-rate comedians like François Morel and the great Pierre Richard. What's not to like ?

Pigoil (Gerard Jugnot) runs a small vaudeville like theater, the Chansonia, in the Faubourg section of Paris. His wife is a "star" of the theater and the rest of the performers are a tight-knit group. Perhaps, too close, for Pigoil is given a double whammy one day. First, his wife has been sleeping with not one, but, two of the other troupe members and, even more sadly, the owner of the building can not pay his debts (it is the depression everywhere) and commits suicide. Soon, Pigoil and his young, idolized son Jojo are barely scraping by. But, then, Pigoil makes a deal with the Fascist like gentleman who truly runs the neighborhood. Can his show group have one month to make the theater profitable again? The ruthless man agrees to give them a chance, for he has his eye on one of their newest performers, a beautiful young singer named Douce. Will the Chansonia become successful once more? This is an unusual look at life in the depression, for it has a French setting, where fascism was brewing in neighboring Germany and in France. There are many subplots to the main one, including one of an agoraphobic music teacher, residing across from the Chansonia, who was once a leading song writer and who has an unlikely connection to Douce. Needless to say, the recreation of the former theater district is very fine, as are the costumes, the cast, the story, and the direction. Therefore, if you like foreign films and unusual tales, put this on your list for future viewing. It is a fine example of quality French cinematic achievements.

It's difficult to explain this film's charm, but suffice it to say that if you love Paris and films about it, this portrayal of the city in 1936 will sweep you off your feet. At two hours long and in French, the movie may seem off-putting at first, but go with the flow and savor the fine direction, cinematography, sets, and the original music by Christophe Barratier. The story takes place in and around a Paris music hall, the proprietor of which has been charged with murder; during his confession we learn the story of the music hall in flashback performances. Even the kindest critics dismissed the film as what one called "a gleaming hunk of French period schmaltz." Exactly what I liked about it.

I may have seen one of the last musical hall revivals in London a few years ago on The Strand—it was full of tinny song and dance that made you tap your feet and long for the good old days of vaudeville and innocence. The telly has pretty much killed that simple pleasure, but Paris 36, a melodramatic story of the revival of a Chansonia in northern Paris, 1936, revives the joy of ensemble acting and dancing, original music, and the intrigue so much a part of the lively arts when they become business and pleasure.

Three Parisians undertake saving a music hall in their section of Paris called Faubourg using the talents of a star-crossed couple supplying the on and off stage romance. The intrigue is much less than Cabaret's; the nostalgia is more than Cinema Paradiso's; it's all more Moulin Rouge than Amelie. The songs are fetching, made especially for the film, and the plot is pure cliché right down to the lecherous businessman and cute ingénue.

The background is unmistakably fascist versus socialist, owners battling workers for a depression-era slim slice of the economic pie and soul. Paris 36 risks it all with formulaic intrigue and predictable denouement. Yet throughout is a good cheer, a bel canto breeziness that draws you in to song, dance, history, and politics, never too heavy, light enough to make you wish that music hall still stood on The Strand.

This movie was a surprising little gem. I knew nothing about it and went with some friends yesterday on a whim. It was beautifully photographed and the rendition of 1936 Paris seemed quite authentic. The costumes were exquisite, the story is engaging, and of all the characters were genuine. The scenes in the theater left me smelling the greasepaint

I think this movie captured me because I was once heavily involved in local, amateur theater where we knocked ourselves out putting on shows just for the fun of it. I could identify with these characters struggling to eke out a living and dreaming of fame and success. The contrast of such joyous activities and the hopes of Pigoil, Douce and Jacky, amongst others against those dark times in Europe gives this movie a wonderful, entertaining balance.

It is well worth seeing.