Agnès Varda celebrates the first hundred years of cinema with a story about a 100-year-old man called Simon Cinéma who welcomes famous faces (so many cameos) from cinema to his mansion/film museum to extol their love for film. Mr. Cinéma seems to embody different filmmakers (even Michel Piccoli, who plays him) and there are slight playful surreal touches. Interspersed throughout with various clips of classics, like Nosferatu and Singin' In the Rain, and lesser known titles, Les belles de nuit and Salto nel vuoto. There are references to hundred-odd films, most are brought up in conversations, some as reenactments and others with music and posters.
Even with accounting for differing tastes (Varda doesn't share my love for horror or crime thrillers, it seems) the variety of cinema here is poor. Only films from France, US, Italy and Germany are featured. One scene does mention Japan but only in the context of when Europeans discovered its output in the fifties with Rashomon and The Crucified Lovers and only for the benefit of visiting Japanese tourists. Early on Mr. Cinéma chastises someone for saying the French title of Touch of Evil, "only original titles, please!", it's convenient then he never talks about Swedish or Chinese cinema as he'd have a hard time pronouncing them. Except for those who are primarily known as actors, there are no cameos by any directors, and no mention of any other type of filmmaker with the exception of David O. Selznick. I would have thought she would want to include her appreciation of scriptwriters, cinematographers, editors, character actors, etc. But is content with stars. Considering how much of a feminist Varda is it's strange that the only films directed by a woman referred to are by herself.
I found virtually nothing of interest. A few conversations seem to get close to saying something but just peter out and the rest is a bunch of awkward cameos, lame reenactments, a tedious subplot featuring amateur filmmakers I won't bother to write about. I've never been much of a fan of Varda's eccentricities and here they're at their worst. I can't share her view of cinema, I find it shallow and narrow.
Even with accounting for differing tastes (Varda doesn't share my love for horror or crime thrillers, it seems) the variety of cinema here is poor. Only films from France, US, Italy and Germany are featured. One scene does mention Japan but only in the context of when Europeans discovered its output in the fifties with Rashomon and The Crucified Lovers and only for the benefit of visiting Japanese tourists. Early on Mr. Cinéma chastises someone for saying the French title of Touch of Evil, "only original titles, please!", it's convenient then he never talks about Swedish or Chinese cinema as he'd have a hard time pronouncing them. Except for those who are primarily known as actors, there are no cameos by any directors, and no mention of any other type of filmmaker with the exception of David O. Selznick. I would have thought she would want to include her appreciation of scriptwriters, cinematographers, editors, character actors, etc. But is content with stars. Considering how much of a feminist Varda is it's strange that the only films directed by a woman referred to are by herself.
I found virtually nothing of interest. A few conversations seem to get close to saying something but just peter out and the rest is a bunch of awkward cameos, lame reenactments, a tedious subplot featuring amateur filmmakers I won't bother to write about. I've never been much of a fan of Varda's eccentricities and here they're at their worst. I can't share her view of cinema, I find it shallow and narrow.