I finally got to see my little Romcommedia Francaise, Populaire, and The Wife started talking about the predictability of such films, and I tried in vain to extol the peripheral virtues of period romantic comedies like this one. That she should indulge and treat herself to the great period music, and the score, the fabulous hair and make up, production design, costumes, etc, and then I topped it off with a statement like this, "And besides, we are only five minutes in to this film. You have not seen enough to pass any kind of judgement."
And, the Wife said, "Michael, I have already seen this film. I have been watching this same film over and over again now for twelve years."
Ah, relationships, right? I love her so much.
Populaire is wonderful. It is a Fleur de Sel Caramel. It is Nougat de Montélimar. It is all eye popping primary colors, and bouncy music, and as they say in Sullivan's Travels, "With a little sex in it."
The male lead, Romaine Duris, was alright, and he needs to stop smirking all the time, but the real stars were the peripheral things I spoke of earlier, and Déborah François.
Ms François is a legitimate comedic talent, and is about as fetching as is possible. I sincerely hope to see her in many more movies to come.
(Also, Populaire has the best opening titles I have seen in years. They should give out Oscars for best opening titles. My faves recently have been this one and An Education.)
As for tonight, I finished watching Barry Lyndon this morning, and I have already set up the dvd player for Ninotchka the minute I hit the couch, and pour myself a glass of Schramsberg Mirabelle Brut.
Everyone have a great and wonderful Saturday night. I am starting to feel better now, and I love you all.
|She is such a door bell!|