Wednesday, May 4, 2022

L'Atalante

A lonesome ship captain (Jean Dasté as Jean) finds himself a daring bride (Dita Parlo as Juliette), who courageously agrees to move onboard without a confusing hassle. 

Wedded bliss initially abounds as they travel from port to port, stopping in different cities and towns to embrace the local culture.

The first mate's a gentle eccentric who's found a niche to creatively conjure (Michel Simon as Le père Jules), the chill and abiding distracted captain having no problem with all of his cats.

When at sea he playfully finds various ways to amuse and entertain, while instructing the other members of the crew, at times even causing mischief. 

Unless otherwise afflicted he freely engages with wondrous vigour, curious to see what tradespeople showcase in their different shops when browsing ashore.

His carefree life is abruptly unhinged, however, when the captain erupts in a jealous fury, after his wife goes shopping alone without having told him where she's going.

The ship departs without belovéd focus in a callous reckless rage, the bride confused and emphatically crestfallen when unsuspectingly remerging.

It's up to le père Jules to reunite them (and save their jobs) if tidings be.

His merriment thrust afoul.

He departs for search and rescue.

At times your diligence is rewarded with an unexpected brilliant trajectory, overflowing with convivial abundance thoroughly enriched by awestruck tremors.

Le père Jules is one such exemplar and Jean Vigo's L'Atalante one such film, with innate incomparable gravitational intensity delicately nurturing improvisation.

It's always a  mistake to imagine the present as holding an unparalleled take on originality, not that novel films and books don't reside within, but other epochs also flourished creatively.

Perhaps Jules was inspired by one of Dickens's many compelling eccentrics, I really can't say, but he's the earliest example of a virtuous rogue I think I've ever encountered in cinema (1934).

It would be cool to work on a boat but what's even more, a boat full of cats, on top of that, a room full of oddities randomly acquired from around the globe.

Fully capable in times of trouble at others much too agéd to take things seriously, Jules has become one of my favourite fictional characters, in his travelling home upon the sea.

Well deserving of a remake in different languages in different countries, I wholeheartedly recommend the joyous L'Atalante to celebrate chill ideas and endearing personality. 

No comments:

Post a Comment