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.

Occasionally dopey (groan! those women in the cat costumes), the 1934 Cleopatra is nevertheless Cecil B. DeMille‘s not-bad historical drama about Cleo, Mark Antony and others.

Because she never truly exhibits the Egyptian queen’s ambitiousness (and is a paleface), Claudette Colbert is somewhat miscast in the title role, but not badly so.  Released just when movie censorship was getting tight, the film is patently sensual.  After an apparent split-second shot of her naked breasts in DeMille’s The Sign of the Cross, and then Cleopatra, Colbert, a future conservative Republican, swore off sexy roles; but there is a physical splendor, a real pulchritude, about her in this picture.  Also, her acting outshines that of the other performers.

Cleopatra (1934 film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)