A film about living life in the shadow of death, about how viewing the world without sunglasses lets in the light, and shows us the truth. This beautful movie is made with surging energy and a lightness of touch by Agnes Varda, the immortal poet of French cinema. It is superbly constructed while feeling as if it were being made up as it goes along. The camera captures a Paris that in some ways has disappeared but in others is still with us and which I hope will remain forever.
Corinne Marchand is forever Cleo, a singer waiting for the result of a recent medical test. When she sings her "Sans Toi", your eyes will fill with tears; when she vamps her way down the steps in Montsouris Park, you'll smile your broadest smile. Around her, life teems -- friends, colleagues, strangers and their children, animals, trees, overheard conversations, momentary remarks -- all observed with a keen eye and endless compassion by Varda and her team.
Ten stars for this? No. A thousand. It's beyond rating. For me, this sits among the highest achievements of cinema. CLEO will live forever.
Corinne Marchand is forever Cleo, a singer waiting for the result of a recent medical test. When she sings her "Sans Toi", your eyes will fill with tears; when she vamps her way down the steps in Montsouris Park, you'll smile your broadest smile. Around her, life teems -- friends, colleagues, strangers and their children, animals, trees, overheard conversations, momentary remarks -- all observed with a keen eye and endless compassion by Varda and her team.
Ten stars for this? No. A thousand. It's beyond rating. For me, this sits among the highest achievements of cinema. CLEO will live forever.