By Ana Clara Soares, ÉCU Writer

Traditionally, spending the month of August in Paris is believed to be quite dreadful. When one by one all of your favorite boulangeries and restaurants, and even the Cinemathèque for that matter, start to close down for vacation (all announcing that they’ll be reopening in unusually long 20 days), it is only natural that one starts to question why exactly didn’t he/she save enough of previous earnings to afford that much deserved trip to at least the south of France, where the weather is nicer and the people look so healthy and carefree under their newly acquired tan.

A statement such as that from the opening of this post can certainly be true – it is easy to get bored when you don’t plan your month adequately. But it doesn’t have to. You’re lucky enough to be in an essentially artistic city, which is already a guaranteed quality time if you’re at least a little keen on finding out about the various events that bored people – just like you – put together along many summers spent in Paris. Taking a stroll around the Hotel de Ville, for instance, can result on a surprise free concert filled with talented musicians. As for the film lovers and avid movie-theater goers, lo and behold the 10th edition of the Cinéma au Clair de Lune, a lovely event organized by the Forum des Images.

As can be guessed from its name, the Cinéma au Clair de Lune basically consists of nocturnal outdoor projections of various films. These – a total of 13 projections – take place at a number of Parisian locations chosen for how they somehow relate to the films being shown, or to the event itself. For instance, the 1939 version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame by William Dieterle was cleverly projected at the Place des Vosges, on August 12th. Honoring films which star Paris as their backdrop, the event poses not only a great opportunity for watching (or re-watching) great classics, but also for visiting (or re-visiting) the charm and particularities of the different Parisian arrondissements.

13 projections shown from the 4th to the 22nd of August equals 13 nights of quality entertainment. In the meantime I suggest you go to Paris Plages in the mornings, or read a book on rainy days. By the time the Cinéma au Clair de Lune is over, your favorite places should slowly but surely be starting to open again. Who knows, you may even get a little bit nostalgic for the time when you could sit back and relax at a park, sipping on some wine and watching a great movie, accompanied by the awkward silence of an empty(er) Paris.

By Claire Leonard

‘Les Nuits en Or’ is, to my mind, an unmissable event in the European cinematic calendar.   It offers a sumptuous feast of short film treasures from around the globe, handpicked by the people at César.

Every year in May and June, it travels throughout Europe, before climaxing in Paris. This year the closing night screening was held at the Max Linder Cinema in the 9^th arrondissement. I was lucky enough not only to go and watch the 9 fantastic films, but also to chat with some of the directors.

The 16-night event showcases a selection of short films by international filmmakers, each prize-winners of illustrious awards throughout the year.  From the Oscar winning short “Logorama” – which sees a rampaging Ronald MacDonald bringing chaos to a city composed entirely of brand logos, to the wonderfully original animation style of David O’Reilly’s “Please Say Something”- following the domestic perturbations of a co-habiting cat and mouse – winner of the German Goya Award.

On offer this year, as always, a smorgasbord of high quality and highly watchable films from New Zealand, Italy, Canada, Spain, Australia, Mexico, Germany and France.  There was animation, drama, comedy, tragedy, love, death, football (there’s just no escaping it), friendship, murder, eternal damnation, heaven, super-powers, embarrassing internet uploads, and even a mooning Haribo kid.

My personal favourite was Denis Villeneuve’s film ‘Next Floor’, an unsettling look at our insatiable consumer society and the future of humankind.  Winner of the Jutra award for Best Short Film 2009, there is very little dialogue – relying purely on stunning visuals to tell its grotesque and intriguingly disturbing story.

There was the brilliant “Six Dollar Fifty Man” from New Zealand duo Mark Albiston and Louis Sutherland, which sees a young boy’s obsession with super heros tackling the school bullies. I also spoke with the Aussie director of “Miracle Fish”, Luke Doolan – winner of the César Judges’ Choice. His film is the story of eight year old Joe, who escapes death all thanks to one of those cellophane fish you put on your palm to judge your mood.

This kind of event brings home the wealth of talent that exists away from big studio budgets and over-inflated egos. It was so refreshing to meet such gifted people who also happen to be so thoroughly nice.  If I hadn’t been wearing my ‘stay-cool-at-all-costs’ summer scruffwear and flip-flops I could have gone with them to their super-swanky after show party. Damn the 33 degree heat and my red-carpet unfriendly wardrobe!

Next year I’ll be better prepared.  I’ll see you there!

The Winner of the People’s Choice (Prix de Public) will be announced soon.

Les Nuits en Or Official Trailer

Loading…

Amber says: “I love Fish LA BOISSONNERIE (69, Rue de Seine). Run by anglophones, there’s a great atmosphere and the food is delicious. A mixed crowd of French, expats, tourists, locals. The name is a play on words on the French poissonnerie, meaning “fishmonger”, and boisson meaning “drink”. Drink like a fish!”

Amber also likes the bar opposite the REFLETS MÉDICIS cinema (opposite 3, Rue Champollion, 5^th): “It sells jacket potatoes, it’s dead cheap and full of French students looking cool.”

Mairi is a fan of LA FOURMI AILÉE (8, Rue du Fouarre): “Cosy café that sells vegetarian food. Makes a change from the other more touristy places around Notre Dame.”

Justine’s favourite is QUAI 21 (21 Quai des Grands Augustins): “It’s sort of wedged between touristy restaurants but when you go inside it’s so cute and quirky. Despite the fact that it’s right on the Seine, it feels like a secret little place that only French people know about! It’s great value and the food is simple but really tasty.

Sophie’s favourite bar in the 5^th is LE PANTALON (7, Rue Royer Collard): “Scruffy and studenty with lots of random bits of street furniture towards the back of the bar. The people are friendly and the atmosphere is très laidback. “

Sophie is also a fan of MEXI AND CO. (10, Rue Dante), a cheap and cheerful Latin American restaurant in the 5^th: “They serve great nachos and burritos, and rather strong mini-pitchers of cocktails.”

Katie recommends CURIO PARLOR (16, Rue des Bernadins): “Nice cocktails, great music and gay-friendly. So cool that I’m not sure if I want the secret getting out!”

Katie also suggests, if you fancy Mexican wrestling, a bar called LA LUCHA LIBRE (10, Rue de la Montagne Sainte-Geneviève): “Food, fighting and drinking – what more could you want from a night out?”

Ben says: “You should try the Ethiopian restaurant GODJO (8, Rue de l’école Polytechnique). It’s an amazing place – you eat with your hands. Traditionally, you’re meant to feed each other!”

Ben also suggests, for something a bit more French, brunch at SALLE A MANGER (138, Rue Mouffetard): “There is an all-day, 7 days a week, €20 brunch that is incredible. You are served jars of nutella, jams, honey and more along with  pasteries, yogurt, fresh fruit, a hot and cold beverage and a choice between foie-gras or smoked salmon and toast salad. A true feast in a beautiful end of the 5th!”

Nico knows a 24 hour steak restaurant in St. Germain: “OLD NAVY (150, Boulevard St. Germain) is open 24/7, and is perfect for a good quality late night (or early morning) bite.”

Pauline is a fan of PUB ST. GERMAIN, (17, Rue de L’anncienne – Comédie): “Don’t be fooled, it is a lot nicer than a traditional pub. It is open every night until 6 a.m., serving both food and drink!”

SCOTT HILLIER, ÉCU President (save the best for last!), highly recommends L’Époque (81, Rue du Cardinal Lemoine): “Fabulous cuisine française, wonderful atmosphere and great prices – you can get a three course meal for €12. Bargain.”

By Sophie Nellis

Is it a yo yo? Is it a thermometer? No, it’s the…Pantheon

If you visit the Pantheon, you will undoubtedly marvel at its enormity but you may also ask yourself, “What is it?” This is a good question, and one that has long puzzled both tourists and the French. Built under Louis XV in the 17^th century, it was intended to be a church dedicated to one of Paris’ patron saints, Saint Geneviève.  Unfortunately, it was finished on the eve of the Revolution, and as the Revolutionaries had the habit of either wrecking churches or using them for other purposes, the Church of Saint Genevieve became the Pantheon, a Temple dedicated to the Great Men of France.

The Pantheon

For the next century, the Pantheon yo-yo-ed back and forth between Church and mausoleum, until the Third Republic drew the line in 1873 and decided it was going to remain a mausoleum. As one commentator said, “It’s not a monument, it’s a thermometer”. The remains of all the big names are to be found in here, including Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, the Resistance hero Jean Moulin, and – the only Great Woman to be interred here – Marie Curie.

Les Jardins du Luxembourg

Just down the road from the Pantheon are the pretty Jardins du Luxembourg.Modelled on the Boboli Gardens in Florence and dotted with 19^th century pavilions, this is one of the nicest parks in Paris. Especially for children, who can play in the playground, ride donkeys and rent boats to sail on the central pond.

Les Jardins du Luxembourg

Again, this has long been a favourite of the Parisian cultural elite. Both Balzac and Victor Hugo liked to stroll around the gardens, Hemingway claimed to have shot pigeons here when he was low on funds and looking for something to eat, and Simone de Beauvoir used to play here as a child. You know where to come if you’re looking for literary inspiration…

Shakespeare and Co.

(37 rue de la Bûcherie, 5th)

For anyone interested in the literary history of Paris, a visit to this famous bookshop is essential. Set up by Sylvia Beach in the 1919, Shakespeare & Co. was frequented by all the great Anglo-American writers who lived in Paris in the 1920s and 1930s, including Ezra Pound, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S Eliot, Samuel Beckett and, most famously, James Joyce.

Shakespeare & Co.

Since the 1950s, Shakespeare and Co. has been run by George Whitman and any wannabe-writers or literature enthusiasts are allowed to stay in the rooms upstairs providing that they work in the shop for a couple of hours per day. It’s a wonderfully ramshackle place, full of literary types browsing through the books and soaking up the atmosphere. Myself included. Seeing my swoons, my now-ex-but-still-French boyfriend remarked that Shakespeare and Co. was the perfect place pour drageur les anglaises (picking up English girls). Book lovers beware.

The Mosque

(2 Place du Puits de l’Ermite, 5th)

Built in the 1920s, La Grande Mosquée de Paris was, in part, a means of thanking the North African troops who had fought for France during WW1.  Decorated with mosaics, it’s a beautiful building that resembles many of the mosques in Marrakesh. As well as taking a tour of the building, visitors can relax in the hammam and enjoy sweet mint tea and an array of North African pastries in the café.

The Grande Mosquée de Paris

Studenty chic…Place de la Contrescarpe

One of the Latin Quarter’s most picturesque squares, paved with cobblestones and with a fountain in the centre. There are a number of cafés surrounding the square and this is a lovely place to sit with a glace of wine and do a bit of people spotting. There’s a lively atmosphere, mostly thanks to the students who come here from the nearby Sorbonne. Last time I was at Place de la Contrescarpe there were fire-eaters…

Place de la Contrescarpe

One of the roads leading off from the square is Rue Mouffetard – one of the oldest market streets in Paris. Although there are now a number of rather touristy cafés and restaurants on Rue Mouffetard, towards the bottom you can still find traditional market shops selling cheese, fruit and vegetables, and wine. Fans of Juliette Binoche will no doubt remember that this area was the setting ofKrystof Kieslowski’s Trois Couleurs: Bleu. A lovely street for a stroll.

By Greta Lorez

Did you know…

… Jean-Luc Godard, one of the founding members of the Nouvelle Vague, was the son of a Swiss couple. Born in Paris, he spent his childhood in Switzerland and at the age of 18, moved back to Paris where he studied Ethnology at the Sorbonne. Godard, however, never severed his Swiss connection: many of his movies were shot on location in Switzerland. He lives there now.

… the German filmmaker Wim Wenders (Paris, Texas, Wings of Desire) gave American director Jim Jarmusch (Coffee and Cigarettes) his 16 mm black and white leftovers. Jarmusch included this material in a 30 minute short named Stranger than Paradise which he later, after a producer watched it, turned into the feature film.

Scene from “Stranger Than Paradise” (Jarmusch).

… the German auteur filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder (Ali: Fear Eats the Soul) stole his own short from the film school where he had applied and was rejected. Fassbinder was so furious that the school did not return the film to him that he (so it’s told) broke into the school and stole the movie back.

… Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire was shot without a script. Instead, Wenders improvised the storyline. Once they started shooting, Wenders realized that a character was missing and called the actor Peter Falk. Falk’s character? A former angel who becomes a human. The film won Palm d’Or for Best Director and later, Hollywood bought the rights of the story for the remake City of Angels.

… Wes Anderson (who mostly lives in Paris and who shot his last movie in London) allegedly loves drinking coffee in the hotel lobby such as the Bar de l’Hotel in the 6th arrondissement in Paris.

… the Danish director Von Triers’ (Dogma, Dancer in the Dark and recently Antichrist with Charlotte Gainsbourg and William Dafoe) real name is Lars Holbaek Trier. The “von” in the middle of his name, what indicates an aristrocratic family he created as a pseudonym.

… the Italian filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni ordered his production designers to paint the grass and the tree leaves for the famous park scene in Blow Up so that they looked greener. Antonioni even ordered to paint the facades of an entire street of houses for a single shot because he thought they weren’t coloured enough. The next day, the houses were painted back to their original colour.

… Polish filmmaker Krzystof Kieslowski once worked on all the three movies of his famous trilogy Blue, White, Red at the same time. (Wrote Red in the morning, shot White during the day and edited Blue at night.)

… late French filmmaker Eric Rohmers, a member of the nouvelle vague and the chief editor of “Cahier du cinéma” real name was Jean-Marie Maurice Schérer. When Rohmer was asked why he choosed the name “Eric Rohmer” he replied, “There was no reason, it was just a name I liked.” He signed his first article with the name in 1950 for the magazine.

… it was Francois Truffaut who wrote the script for Godard’s movie A bout de souffle (Breathless). Truffaut wrote it as a short story before he turned it into a script.

… the German/Turkish filmmaker Fatih Akin (Head-On, The Edge of Heaven) wrote the script for his first feature movie Short Sharp Shock when he was still in school. At 16, Fatih Akin decided to become a director. He wrote his script in his school books, entered into a production company in Hamburg and gave them his schoolbooks with his story. The producers recognized his talent and after two short movies, Akin shot Short Sharp Shock and began his career.

… Frederico Fellini started his career by drawing comic strips. Talented at drawing little cartoons as a young boy, he made them for friends, teachers and family. When Fellini got older, he worked as cartoonist and journalist at the daily paper “Il Piccolo”.

On the set of “La Strada” (Fellini).

… German filmmaker Tom Tykwer (Run Lola Run, Heaven) was rejected by all German and French film schools. Tykwer, crazy about movies, worked as a director of programming at a independant movie theater in Berlin. There, he met his future Director of Photography (working there as a film projectionist) and so their work began..

… Jim Jarmusch (who lived in Paris in his youth and is since, very attached to the city) some times comes to Paris with his fotocamera or polaroidcamera and wanders around in the middle of the night taking pictures of cabdrivers, musicians, and people he coincidentally meets on the streets.

… Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman (The Virgin Spring) once, after having a dispute over censorship, became so angry about it that he put several obscene pictures in the front credits of his film Persona.

The not-so angelic Ingmar Bergman.

By Moze Halperin

Those of you who live in Paris have likely noticed the frightening abundance of misery-stricken, wet, baffled, crushed, torn, tempest-tossed Korean widows plastering the Paris metro stations.  Lurking behind every endearingly Parisian puff of urine with that worn mien, waiting to shatter commuters’ iPoded complacency, silently bemoaning the woes, the burdens, the weight of motherhood.  Actually, said Korean widows are just one Korean widow, played by Hye-Ja Kim, star of acclaimed director Bong Joon-Ho’s Mother.  After feeling the emotional punch of the posters at least four times daily (or however many metro rides, transfers, etc. I took, multiplied by about 11, thanks to those overzealous French poster gluers), I couldn’t simply not see the movie; I wanted to know why this woman was so, so pitiful.  In that sense, I suppose I am a sucker for the matronly melancholy, prone to offering my heart up to any Kathy Bates or Bette Midler who sheds a tear on my screen. I therefore enlisted three friends to accompany me to the Odéon at St-Germain-des-Prés– one friend who barely speaks French, one who speaks decent French, and one who is French– entirely unaware of the fact that I either was or wasn’t about to catalyze a very telling or not-so-telling social experiment.   For, as an American, seeing a Korean movie subtitled in French takes a certain amount of energy, inventiveness, and willingness to admit to defeat.

The movie opens with a sweeping shot of Kim trudging through a wheat-field.  Anticipating a thoroughly despair-drenched film, I found myself so ready to submit to the lugubriousness of the lone-woman-in-wheat-field motif, for the camera (and me, vicariously) to swing down upon her weathered face, for it to rain on that ho-bag, to feel the instant gratification of sympathy for aforementioned ho-bag. Alas, no such catharsis was provided.  Rather, as the shot nears her face, she begins to flop around.  And the flopping turns to dancing– a little disco, a little twist– oh so supple.  And her frown transforms to a smile, then euphoria, then back to a frown.  This lady was not the dejected bitty from the posters- no, this lady had spunk. I felt betrayed, though quite contentedly so.  I had so impressionably trusted the poster, but now I was getting something so much better.  A soggy perm, wheat, and the sexualized elderly.  I was laughing hysterically. I laughed throughout the film regardless of the progressively perverse plot.  Director Bong Joon-Ho makes many an ironic attempt at detachment- shooting from the point of view of a plate of shellfish and incorporating assumedly inaccessible topics (incest? infanticide?  shellfish testimonies?) to deny the audience the right to seek sanctuary or familiarity in this woman’s misfortune. I was laughing with the film, not at it, I thought.  I was doing exactly what Joon-Ho was asking.

Kim, trudging through a wheat field.

For, really, all one can do is laugh and maybe weed through the tawdry plot for intention, but probably not.  Perhaps purpose can be found in the meticulous filmmaking.  Perhaps not.  One shot, during which Mother dribbles a bowl of coffee into son Yoon Do-joon’s mouth as he pisses a puddle against a wall was one of many possible strokes of genius that both provided glorious cinematic eye candy and an impeccable thematic summary: mother gives birth, nurtures, and Son (along with Son’s digestive and urinary tracts, all torn from mother’s womb) expels it as piss.  Farfetched interpretation?  Maybe.  A fantastic shot, nonetheless.

So I laughed, thinking I was laughing with genius.  My friends laughed, thinking they were laughing at awkward filmmaking and uncomfortably placed dance numbers.  Perhaps I was the only smart one. Or the only douchebag laughing at an earnest portrayal of desperation. Or maybe the film was more brilliant than even I thought.  Maybe I, so sycophantically in awe, had become a human genre-fuck of the two spectator archetypes, fragmented in coordination with the genre-fuck of the film I was watching. Maybe I’m just being sycophantic.

The friend who spoke very little French, and to my knowledge, no Korean, thought it was a failed tragedy.  My friend who spoke decent French did, too.  My French friend, a fan of New French Extremism (a movement in which incest and murderous frumpstresses are invariable, to which he was thus desensitized) thought it was a highly successful tragedy; incest and infanticide aren’t alienating, he believed– they are the healthy components to any relatable drama.  I left, adamantly attached to my interpretation, but soon I began to doubt myself:  were each of our interpretations cultural, or based on our cultural limitations?  Do woebegone women spontaneously break out in the twist in most Korean movies?  Was I overly confident in my interpretation of the subtitles?  And, since it was mostly the visuals and the cinematographic wit that I found so hilarious, how did my friend (the near-Frenchless, totally Koreanless one), judging mostly by visuals, find it a mediocre tragedy and not an ingeniously calculated dark, dark comedy?

I realized that movie-going in Paris may be much more complicated than in the States.  Suddenly grammar, reading comprehension, attention-span-while-listening-in-Korean-reading-in-French-and-critiquing-in-English and other egregious aspects of being foreign played into our pseudo-intellectual “that’s so Jooh-Ho”/”well, on my neighbor’s karaoke machine…” post-film dialogue.  Now we were burdened by the notion that every idea we may have had about the movie may have been a fluke of our linguistic ineptitude. Every time I see that face in the metro stations, I am forced to confront my confusion, to wonder, really, is she crying, is she laughing, or is she just a smug little reminder that I am foreign to everything around me, and vice versa?  Probably not.  But she does a damn good twist.

Moze Halperin is a third-year creative writing student at Oberlin College, and a featured ÉCU blog writer.

In pursuit of pleasure…

By Sophie Nellis

As we zig zag across Paris, I think it’s time to take a stroll around my own neighbourhood, the 18^th arrondissement. At the heart of this quartier is the Butte Montmartre, at the top of which is the brilliantly white, looks-like-a-wedding-cake, Sacré-Coeur. Whether they come to visit the church, to admire the panoramic views of Paris, or have their portrait painted by one of the “artists” in Place du Tertre, La Butte is one of the most popular destination for tourists visiting the city.

The name Montmartre means “mountain of the martyrs” and the martyr in question is St Denis, one of the patron saints of Paris. Before he was a Saint, Denis was the Bishop of Paris and in 272AD he was executed by the Romans in Montmartre. Legend has it that he picked up his head and carried it all the way to the northern suburb of, what is now known as, St Denis. Decapitation got the better of him at this point and he decided to stop. The place where he died was marked by a shrine that was later replaced by the Basilica of St-Denis.

St Denis, holding his head.(Source: flikr.com)

At the end of the 19^th century, Montmartre came to epitomize the decadence and hedonism of fin de siècle Paris. Parisians flocked here flocked here in the pursuit of pleasure, heading to popular cabarets such as The Moulin Rouge and Le Chat Noir. A number of these pleasure seekers were artists. Attracted by the cheap booze and low rents, a number of artists including Picasso, Van Gogh, Modigliani and Toulouse-Lautrec lived and worked in Montmartre during this period. In 1904 Picasso rented a studio in the Bateau-Lavoir, an old piano factory on the place Emile-Goudeau where he stayed for almost a decade. The original building burnt down in a fire but the modern reconstruction continues to provide studios for artists, a testimony to this area’s artistic heritage.

Poster for Le Chat Noir (Source: ambroseartgallery.wordpress.com)

More recently, the huge success of Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amélie reinforced Montmartre’s position on the cultural map of Paris. The Montmartre in Amélie is the stuff of fairytales: a charming, village-like neighbourhood full of eccentrics. As I sat in the cinema, aged 17, I was enraptured by this romantic, kooky vision of Paris. I wanted to be Amélie! I wanted eccentrics! I wanted a love affair with a nice boy who worked in a sex shop! And here I am, almost a decade later, living in Montmartre…For a number of years after the release of the film, the Café des Deux Moulins where Amélie works and the Marché de la Butte where she buys her vegetables became tourist hot spots almost on a par with the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower.

Café des Deux Moulins on Rue Lepic (Source: flikr.com)

Living here, however, has revealed a side to the 18^th arrondissement that the film chose to ignore. Next to Montmartre is one of the most ethnically diverse and cosmopolitan neighbourhoods of Paris, La Goutte d’Or. Home to a large number of North African immigrants, this quartier is known for its markets. Whether you’re buying exotic fruit at the Marché Dejean at Chateau Rouge or cheap vegetables at the Marché Barbès on Saturday morning, the hustle and bustle you’ll experience here is a far cry from the quiet nostalgia of Amélie.

The Marché Barbès

What I love about the 18^th arrondissement is that it’s a mixture of all of the above. Although it is touristy and parts of it are a little seedy and run-down, there’s a real sense of community and pride in both the neighbourhood’s history and diversity. Although I’m still waiting for the nice boy who works in a sex shop, I’ve discovered that there are plenty of other things to fall in love with in the 18^th.

Five places to eat, drink and be merry in the 18^th:

· For champagne: Call me Bubbles (54 rue Custine)

· For brunch: Café qui Parle (24 rue Caulaincourt)

· For fruit and veg: the Marché Barbès on a Wednesday or Saturday morning (Boulevard Barbès)

· For the tastiest salad in Paris: Le Relais Gascon (6 rue des Abbesses and 13 rue Joseph de Maistre)

· For live Brazilian music and one of the most random nights you’ll have in Paris: Le Blue Note (13 rue Feutrier)