To a child, a favorite toy acquires a life of its own, with the child as its master.  In the 34-minute French movie, Albert Lamorisse‘s The Red Balloon (1956), it is for a child (Pascal Lamorisse) that a balloon acquires a life of its own, magically.

This simple short became famous, and has endured, because it is beautifully and enticingly put together, inevitably in color and with several excellent set pieces.  Alas, it is not very moving, but it has the kind of unfailing charm of which a director like Truffaut in his films made such a contribution.  Lamorisse proved the worth of his instincts.

(In French with English subtitles)

The Red Balloon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

To a child, a favorite toy acquires a life of its own, with the child as its master.  In the 34-minute French movie, Albert Lamorisse‘s The Red Balloon (1956), it is for a child (Pascal Lamorisse) that a balloon acquires a life of its own, magically.

This simple short became famous, and has endured, because it is beautifully and enticingly put together, inevitably in color and with several excellent set pieces.  Alas, it is not very moving, but it has the kind of unfailing charm of which a director like Truffaut in his films made such a contribution.  Lamorisse proved the worth of his instincts.

(In French with English subtitles)

The Red Balloon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

With multiple plot strands working in its favor, the most recent Jane the Virgin (last night) was thoroughly palatable.

The cops/criminals strand was intense and surprising, and the not-very-Catholic Jane now wants to have sex.  Temporarily.  She understandably thinks it’s weird to be “a virgin mom,” but this droll sex comedy ends exactly as expected.

There was a lot of romanticizing, though—of various things—done by Jane, Xiomara, Luisa.  We knew it was there because every instance of it made the screen a rosy color.  (You had to be there.)  You should have been there, if you weren’t, to witness the conceited actor Rogelio (Jaime Camil) playing the First Male Feminist and regularly kissing a young and pretty Susan B. Anthony.  A riot.  Also, Petra’s gotten bitchy again.

With multiple plot strands working in its favor, the most recent Jane the Virgin (last night) was thoroughly palatable.

The cops/criminals strand was intense and surprising, and the not-very-Catholic Jane now wants to have sex.  Temporarily.  She understandably thinks it’s weird to be “a virgin mom,” but this droll sex comedy ends exactly as expected.

There was a lot of romanticizing, though—of various things—done by Jane, Xiomara, Luisa.  We knew it was there because every instance of it made the screen a rosy color.  (You had to be there.)  You should have been there, if you weren’t, to witness the conceited actor Rogelio (Jaime Camil) playing the First Male Feminist and regularly kissing a young and pretty Susan B. Anthony.  A riot.  Also, Petra’s gotten bitchy again.

Thomas Vinterberg‘s film of the Hardy novel, Far from the Madding Crowd (2015), is about the occurrence of discovery—discovery of  another’s romantic interest, of responsibility, of sexual pleasure, of heartache.  The first hour and the last few moments, the coda, of the film are compelling; the rest of it is too hurried, with short shrift given where it should not be given.  In addition, main character Bathsheba Everdeen doesn’t seem entirely human because of course she is a nineteenth century proto-feminist.

Carey Mulligan, who plays her, never does anything surprising but is interesting in the role nonetheless.  Even stronger are Michael Sheen and Matthias Schoenaerts.  There is no greatness in Madding Crowd, as there is in a period piece like 1973’s The Emigrants.  I believe it to be a failure, but a very watchable failure—a near-success, in fact.