The Delights of French Cinema
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I just finished watching Amélie at the Davises’. I love la cinéma francaise. At least the French cinema that is good enough for export. Unlike Galois cigarettes, these exports always seem to be a delight to the senses, flavorful and aromatic. (Galois, by the way, are the most wretched cigarettes I’ve ever smoked. I think it must be a great French joke for them to be exported to the U.S., as I am sure they are the equivalent of the Basic or Doral brands.)
Amélie is the story of the title character, a shy girl who is raised in a very protective home, sans affection. As an adult, she is quite withdrawn, until she chances upon a child’s box of trinkets, left in her flat decades before. After seeing the joy of the now agéd original owner upon receipt of the box of memories, Amélie decides to make secretly increasing the happiness of others her mission in life. Then kismet intervenes and secretly plots to increase her own happiness.
Amélie is thoroughly enjoyable, from start to finish. (The Davises have now watched it three times.) Although I am not normally fond of plots that rely on improbable events leading to romance, this film takes the imagination captive by making the characters believable. Because the story is so thoroughly character driven, you accept the improbability of the romance. You become completely engaged in rooting for Amélie that you forget to ask if these things could really happen. Unless you are yourself so completely like Amélie, in which case it’s the one question you cannot escape.