Rating: 4.5/5
Criterion Challenge 2022 | 51/52 | Essential Art House
1827 We open on the bustling Boulevard du Temple, where street performers of various sorts draw a crowd. A barker dressed as Pierrot draws a crowd to a curtain, behind which a beautiful woman stands nude, ready to haunt their dreams. The woman, named Garance, sits in a pool of water, gazing at her reflection in a handheld mirror. The customers, frustrated with how little they see, leave, and Garance gets off early.
Down the way, a young actor named Frédérick Lemaître tries to enter the Theatre des Funabules to speak to the manager, but before he can argue further, he sees Garance and chases after her, hoping to woo her. But Garance is on her way to visit Pierre-François Lacenaire, who works as a scrivener but has more sinister plans for society.
At the Theatre des Funabules, they sell two seats: the boxes and “paradise,” the upper balcony. Those who can afford neither are left with the mime named Baptiste, the son of the barker. While Garance and Lacenaire stand in the crowd, a man accuses Garance of stealing his gold watch, calling for the police. However, Baptiste, who witnessed the whole thing, reenacts the crime, thereby exonerating Garance. Frédérick has made his way into the theater to speak to the theater director. The crowd in “Paradise” is rowdy, yelling at the stage and cracking jokes. But their enthusiasm drives the theatre director to continue.
The film follows Garance and the men who attempt to court her in their inimitable ways, as well as have their exploits throughout the film.
Listen to the Gods! I used to laugh like that.
In March of 1945, Allied troupes had pushed Nazis out of most of Europe. In two months, WWII will end, effectively driving the remaining German resistance out. It was in that month that Children of Paradise premiered, marking the return of French cinema and the death of its golden age.
The title of the film takes on a double meaning. From the summary above, you can deduce one meaning: the children of paradise are the impoverished who crave the excitement of the theater. More directly, the children are the actors themselves, in the film and for the film, who all wish to be seen and rewarded with the crowd’s applause. In this way, the film is a love letter to a time in French history, as well as to the audiences who turned out in droves to see it. Their enthusiasm kept the film screening at Madeleine Theatre for over a year and kept it in theaters for decades after.
The filmmaking is grand and romantic, utilizing thousands of extras to populate the sets built for streets and theaters. The costumes are perfect, both those on the street and those on stage, creating a sense of time and place. Being in monochrome, it’s easier now than ever to feel like the film is a portal back in time. It helps that Baptiste, Frédérick, and Pierre-François are all based on real people, so the script has plenty of rich detail to bestow on them.
While the runtime may be intimidating, the film is divided into two parts, with a seven-year gap between the events. Additionally, much of the runtime is dedicated to watching the stage performances and the audience’s responses, so it all feels well-balanced.
My favorite characters are the trio of writers who complete each other’s sentences. They’re almost like fairy tale creatures!
Director Rebecca Miller said in an interview that Arletty is “an actual embodiment of the Mona Lisa,” and I think that’s the perfect way to describe her unusual beauty and presence.