Growing up in Nantes in France with loving parents in a lively neighbourhood, his imagination roamed far and wide while often focused on the cinema.
Family life embraced the trades since his father owned a bustling garage, and wanted his son to become a mechanic and learn his catechism and keep things real.
Little Jacquot hesitantly obliged since he wasn't as rebellious as some, but still worked on creative independent films alone at night in their humble attic.
His mother and father had to admit that he had real talent when he showcased his films, every meticulous minuscule detail having been delicately crafted.
World War II breaks out and the family is briefly torn apart, dad working in a shell-factory by day, the children moving to the countryside at times.
But Jacquot never stops creating nor watching films with heartfelt awe.
Eventually directing agile tales.
As part of the French New Wave.
Jacquot de Nantes proceeds with loving candour as it romantically illustrates its subject, dynamically directed by Jacque's wife the incredibly talented Agnès Varda.
She carefully links his active childhood with laidback material from his films, first imagining how the moments might have taken place before showing them depicted on the silver screen.
Jacques Démy himself also comments to add more depth to the bold filmography, his poignant insights generating layers of intricate exuberant narrative detail.
Captivating to see a sincere exhibition of a thoughtful artist and his breathtaking work, lovingly shot by another auteur who genuinely loved him with innocent tenderness.
I've never seen one of his films which is a shortcoming I'll have to remedy.
Such knowledge.
Such wild inspiration.
Peacefully blossoming.
Limitless and free.
No comments:
Post a Comment