I couldn't help seeing some of the negative remarks here, making light of a truly venerable French film. They don't come any more glamorous.
Seeing Ingrid Bergman as captured by Jean Renoir also reduces the cavils to ordinary vanity on the part of pompous reviewers. After all, it's Le Comedy Francais, not Ingemar Bergman diamond-cutting. To understand this kind of refined madcap, you have to lighten up! Even today with two world wars and world-wide depressions behind us; Ingrid the mother of all film actresses appears effortlessly artful and glamorous. Champagne doesn't age as spectacularly as this movie has. Together with the grandiose military posturing of Jean Marais, and with France in its Belle Epoque, Renoir gave us his own brilliance to treasure. Spoiler alert: Sorry to say poor Mel Ferrer alas, was out of his league. But he never danced better. The cameras betrayed his inner ardor, he was in love with Ingrid, as what virile hunk wouldn't be, holding her close? I'd have tumbled for her in a New York minute. The camera never loved her more audaciously either. Here is a lovely old movie with class.
I have only two plebeian thumbs. They serve little purpose here but to contradict so many art connoisseurs in these pages who presume to teach Jean Renoir et Companie how to film a French romantic farce. Well, I offer two thumbs up! To all who remember the grace and beauty of Ingrid Bergman, then: SEE THIS JOYOUS MOVIE!
Seeing Ingrid Bergman as captured by Jean Renoir also reduces the cavils to ordinary vanity on the part of pompous reviewers. After all, it's Le Comedy Francais, not Ingemar Bergman diamond-cutting. To understand this kind of refined madcap, you have to lighten up! Even today with two world wars and world-wide depressions behind us; Ingrid the mother of all film actresses appears effortlessly artful and glamorous. Champagne doesn't age as spectacularly as this movie has. Together with the grandiose military posturing of Jean Marais, and with France in its Belle Epoque, Renoir gave us his own brilliance to treasure. Spoiler alert: Sorry to say poor Mel Ferrer alas, was out of his league. But he never danced better. The cameras betrayed his inner ardor, he was in love with Ingrid, as what virile hunk wouldn't be, holding her close? I'd have tumbled for her in a New York minute. The camera never loved her more audaciously either. Here is a lovely old movie with class.
I have only two plebeian thumbs. They serve little purpose here but to contradict so many art connoisseurs in these pages who presume to teach Jean Renoir et Companie how to film a French romantic farce. Well, I offer two thumbs up! To all who remember the grace and beauty of Ingrid Bergman, then: SEE THIS JOYOUS MOVIE!