Welcome to Jacques Demy weekend!  To celebrate the 4 year anniversary of starting this project, we’re going to cover two more French musicals with a director who loved the medium so intensely he struggled through filming these movies in a country that had no infrastructure to support them at the time.  Demy is perfect for the genre, rejecting realism and instead showcasing the character’s heightened emotions by allowing them to sing.  In an interview featured in The World of Jacques Demy he defends his predilection to song, “It’s just love that you send out in a certain manner, a way of communicating that I find more interesting if it’s sung.  It can be more tender, lavish, violent, aggressive, gentle, whatever.  That’s what interests me.”  In this particular case, Jacques favorite form of communication dominates the the whole movie, with the story more akin to a tragic opera like Carmen instead of Carmen Jones.  That’s right – we’re starting with Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg), the more experimental and depressing of the pair of pictures.  But at least everyone’s really pretty so we’ll at least have something beautiful to look at while our hearts are being ripped out of our chests.

I joke because Catherine Deneuve stars in this movie, and in every single interview she is ultimately asked how she copes with being the most gorgeous person on the planet, which elicits the awkward responses you would expect.  I neglected to realize how massive a star Catherine is in her own country and abroad because Dancer in the Dark was designed to be an absolute mess, and 8 Femmes’ musical numbers were, let’s be honest, a little awkward.  Umbrellas, however, is the film that launched her into the public consciousness, showcasing her true range from playful, adoring, and witty to sorrowful, distressed, and conflicted.

Part 1: The Departure

As if on cue, the next night Guy sorrowfully reveals he’s being shipped off to Algeria.  Geneviève is rightfully devastated since two years in her young mind is basically forever.  They commiserate over drinks before Guy sneaks Geneviève into his Aunt’s apartment so they can bone.

This scene made me queasy to watch because it hit a little too close to home – being in a relationship where one person loves intensely and the other’s passion dies the further in distance they are away from their partner.  The desperation in Catherine’s face, the tone in her dubbed voice, the reiteration of her feelings as the train pulls away from the station leaving her alone on the platform does well in conveying how empty Geneviève feels in Guy’s absence.  No matter how silly I think Geneviève is to mourn a man she has only dated for a short time, her pain transports me back to when my heart was young and honestly believed that loving someone was enough to overcome any circumstance.  I can ignore the harsh reality of Geneviève’s mother’s perspective and just, for a moment, understand Geneviève’s pain and commiserate with her.

The song Catherine and Nino are lip syncing here, “Je ne pourrai jamais vivre sans toi”, translated as “I Will Wait For You”, is the most recognizable from the movie to English speakers as it’s been covered by artists like Frank Sinatra and Kenny Rogers.  Connie Francis’ version was used in this devastating scene from Futurama and oh my god Futurama how fucking dare you.  The lip syncing isn’t just a necessity of the filming process – every single vocal performance in this movie was done by a hired musician – Danielle Licari for Geneviève and José Bartel for Guy.  Some of the vocalists used in Umbrellas like José, Christiane Legrand, Georges Blaness and Claudine Meunier were also hired for The Young Girls of Rochefort a few years later.  The actors collaborated with the singers to ensure the phrasing and inflection of the lines would match what they envisioned their characters would do, which softens my usual why didn’t they just hire actors that can sing? gut reaction.  Demy took advantage of everyone’s talents and the melding of the two produced a beautiful product.

“Je ne pourrai jamais vivre sans toi” is an outlier in terms of singular importance – the great majority of the songs aren’t the typical verse/chorus structure and operate more like dialogue than musical numbers, with utilitarian titles such as “Devant le Garage”, “Dans le Magasin de Parapluies”, and “Guy au Café” to describe the scene and not the emotion being presented.

When Geneviève and Guy are in their honeymoon period his accent color is her main color, pink.  Geneviève’s dress on their date is especially pointed since it is pinned to her body as a last minute alteration.  Guy is physically pricked when touches her, further highlighting the illicit nature of their relationship.

When the young couple are faced with hardships, like when Geneviève fights with her mother over her relationship with Guy and after Guy reveals he is leaving, Geneviève begins to wear his color, blue.  The blue scarf specifically she clutches as if she’s trying to absorb Guy into her body.

Part 2: The Absence

After Guy leaves, Geneviève discovers their tryst resulted in a pregnancy.  When she reveals this new development to her mother, Madame Emery’s mostly concerned about how other people will react to Geneviève’s situation, specifically Roland Cassard (Marc Michel), an older, wealthy jewelry salesman that helped them with their tax issues in the past.  Roland has his own tragic backstory per the Jacques Demy Cinematic Universe, as his character in Lola had an unrequited love with a cabaret dancer who ran away with another man, and Roland’s hoping to get over his heartbreak by marrying Geneviève.  Madame Emery has constantly advocated for her daughter to marry Roland which is fairly hilarious since he appears to be in his 30s and she thought Guy was “too old” for her daughter.

Geneviève is pretty annoyed with her mother’s ham-fisted attempts to hook her up with a man her mother talks about so fondly you’d think she’d want to marry him herself.  This is especially grating as Geneviève’s resolve starts to crack as she begins to doubt Guy’s commitment to her as his letters become scarce.  While her outfits are bright pink with her love early on in his service when she discovers she’s pregnant, they eventually become paler and more muted as time marches on, transitioning to blue the further she is into her pregnancy and the fewer letters she receives from Guy.

Several months after Roland’s initial proposal to Geneviève, she finally reveals to Roland she is pregnant with Guy’s baby.  Her inner turmoil about abandoning Guy is printed all over her bright, busy blue dress as Roland assures Geneviève he will raise the child as his own.  Geneviève, with her frontal lobe not fully cooked yet, ultimately succumbs to her mother’s pressure and accepts Roland’s proposal, wearing a wedding dress with all the color sucked out of her.  Geneviève doesn’t wear anything bright for the rest of the film.

Part 3: The Return

Guy and Geneviève have one final encounter as Geneviève serendipitously stops at Guy’s auto shop for gas on her way through Cherbourg.  She’s cosplaying her mother, wearing a brown fur coat and a black dress as Geneviève mourns the somewhat recent death of her.  With Madame Emery gone, Geneviève no longer needs to live up to her expectations, which is perhaps why we can infer she wandered into the city on the chance she may see Guy.  Unfortunately for Geneviève, Guy has seemingly moved on and is uninterested in learning about Geneviève’s new life or their child. She pulls away from the station as Guy’s family returns from seeing Santa Claus, his son wearing a raincoat that mimics Geneviève’s juvenile outfit at the beginning of the film.  The rain that represented Guy and Geneviève’s love in the beginning is now frozen into snow.

This film does a terrific job at illustrating the fleeting nature of young love.  While it may burn brightly at first it flickers out when presented with hardship.  Both Guy and Geneviève settled for people who brought them stability instead of passion, and the argument could be made that this is a consequence of maturation instead of circumstance.  If Guy had stayed would they have remained happy, or would Geneviève be miserable because of her mother’s constant disapproval of Guy?  Or without the money she obtained by marrying Roland?  Perhaps so, but being so young made her vulnerable to the influences around her and ultimately she chose the path that would provide her the most options moving forward, no matter how loveless it may be.

As someone with no expectations before watching Umbrellas, I was surprised and somewhat delighted it leaned heavily into the operas it was emulating.  With the sea of movies on this list made by directors who are ashamed by the musical format and do whatever it takes to inject realism into a genre that thrives in the fantastical, Demy is a director who understands song (and dance, but I’m getting ahead of myself) is the best way to evoke emotions and tell a realistic love story.  The audience can connect with the subject matter because of the songs.  If this movie would have been straight dialogue I know I would have rolled my eyes as I’m a grumpy middle-aged lady who knows what a terrible idea it is to marry your high school sweetheart.  But seeing Geneviève desperately sing, “Je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime…” as Guy’s train leaves kills me.  I can’t listen to the theme of this movie without getting teared up.  It’s incredibly easy to see why Umbrellas of Cherbourg remains relevant and continues to influence movies made today.

Prepare yourself for a good, old-fashioned murder mystery with 8 Femmes: All the different ways a woman can screw over a man.

This movie is an adaptation of a 1950s French play by Robert Thomas, and is spiritually equivalent to a sitcom bottle episode.  The head of the household, Marcel, is killed in his sleep during a snowstorm so horrific that all means of escape have been eliminated, and calling for help is useless.  Now the eight most important women in his life are tasked with the responsibility of deducing which one of them is a murderer.

Is it his invalid mother-in-law who recently moved into the house to be cared for?  

Or his high-strung, hypochondriac, sister-in-law Augustine, who is overly concerned with everyone else’s actions?

Is it his fabulously dressed wife, Gaby, who strides to maintain a high level of wealth and decorum?

Maybe it’s Chanel, the housekeeper who has dutifully served the family for years, but has a secret gambling problem?

Or Louise, a recently hired young sexpot with a mysterious past?

It might be Catherine, his youngest daughter, who always has her nose in a book?  Or perhaps his eldest daughter Suzon, who has recently returned from school for Christmas break several pounds heavier, but suspiciously vocal on how she’s maintained excellent grades?

Or perhaps is it his estranged sex-worker sister who is always asking for money?

As the story unfolds, the layers of these women are peeled back like onions.  Their relationships with each other and Marcel eventually reveal themselves, as well as their personal motivations for his untimely demise.

I won’t divulge details of the plot, because I don’t want to spoil it.  I think everyone should watch this movie and bask in its luxurious glory.  The women start off as allies, but as time progresses, their behavior becomes increasingly unhinged.  Even when their actions were abhorrent, I still rooted for them because the women in this movie are unbelievably charismatic and captivating actresses.  Catherine Deneuve’s glamour just seeped out of her pores.  The way she wears clothes gives me the yearning of a child wanting to put on their mother’s coat and shoes and prance around the house.  Isabelle Huppert’s facial ticks and loud, sharp outbursts that cut her otherwise restrained persona were absolutely hilarious.  Both Fanny Ardant and Emmanuelle Béart made me feel hot underneath the collar due to their effortless antagonization of Gaby.  Virginie Ledoyen and Ludivine Sagnier made me annoyed with their characters in similar ways – Virginie with the feigned doe-eyed innocence of someone who is hiding a secret, and Ludivine as the whiny, outspoken younger sister who thinks she knows everything but knows nothing.  Firmine Richard’s performance was both hilarious and heartbreaking, balancing the loneliness of feeling ostracized by the family she’s supported for years, but trying her best to stay out of the way and let these crazy ladies tear each other down.  And last but not least, Danielle Darrieux’s exasperated reactions to everything that happens and everything she was accused of consistently cracked me up.

The songs in this musical are delightful, and didn’t feel out-of-place in an otherwise straightforward murder mystery.  However, they are not original to the film, making this a dreaded jukebox musical.  I was unfamiliar with the songs outside of the context of the movie, which made it easy to associate them with parts of the plot.  Each woman has their own musical style that fits their character, and when their motivations were called into question, they burst into song to address it.  The actresses all have fairly good singing voices, but what surprised me was how uncomfortable they looked during their musical performances. 

I’m fairly certain they didn’t rehearse the choreography much, as I noticed several of the actresses looking at each other for their next dance move.  Virginie Ledoyen was the biggest culprit of this, with Catherine Deneuve as a close second, which really, really bummed me out.  She is explosive while she’s acting, but you can kind of see the thoughts running through her head every time she had to move.  

In a similar vein, I really didn’t buy that Pierrette was an exotic dancer, because although Fanny Ardant perfectly embodied the sultry seductress, during her musical number she reminded me of a drunk aunt singing karaoke.  When I think of burlesque, I think of Dita Von Teese, where clothes melt off of her like a magician’s sleight-of-hand card trick, not the strong and brazen removal of articles of clothing in this number.

I don’t think these performances needed to be handled by musical theatre veterans, but maybe another day of rehearsals (or perhaps some liquid courage?) might have served them a little better.  Not to put it all on the actresses, either, the choreography isn’t all that elegant to begin with.  I’m just saying, when I was watching the musical numbers, I kept wondering if the actresses were reluctant to really lean into them because they were afraid to screw it up, or if they hadn’t had enough time to memorize the movements where they felt comfortable enough to make them their own.  Based on the behind the scenes stuff I was able to watch, I’m leaning toward the latter.  It’s a bad sign when the choreographer has to dance with them behind the camera to remind them of what they’re supposed to be doing.

I had to purchase 8 Women on DVD for $10 because I couldn’t find it anywhere online with English subtitles, and despite my nitpicky quips, this film was worth the price of admission.  I was along for the ride the entire time, and aside from the shocking ending that I think tried to venerate a dude who absolutely deserved to die, the story was interesting and captivating.  If a campy and emotional whodunit story interspersed with musical respites sounds like your cup of tea, this is absolutely a must-see.