We have another guest writer! Caitlin, a friend of my boyfriend, saw a film that inspired me to put it in my Netflix queue immediately. She's pretty much the next best thing to awesome. Enjoy her lovely review!
Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a 1964 French musical. It is the most "musical" musical I have ever seen. Rather than the characters breaking into song here and there over the more compelling plot points, every single word is sung. It's a sweet and rather sad love story about a very young couple. I watched this film by myself on a dreary day with some hot chocolate, and I loved every corny second of it. My husband caught a few of minutes of it, and stared at me in disbelief before leaving the room to play Call of Duty.
The clothes were a big part of it's charm for me. Like Sex in the City-- and this is a big confession for me-- I would see the movie just for the clothes. I often found myself pausing and rewinding to examine a dropped-waistline dress; a pair of petite flats; and this pink, double-breasted, A-line coat that was like something out of a dream. If I woke up one day and found that coat in my closet, I would think that I had passed away and my spirit had floated up into a world of unfulfilled dreams.
The hair and makeup were equally noteworthy. I can't believe how much hairspray women used to use. The women in this film all had perfect dos that didn't budge. But rather than being confident in the stability of their coiffures, the actresses seemed constantly preoccupied with making sure no single hair was out of place. There was this frequent hand-on-hair gesture that inspired great pathos in me. I could never live like that. To protect their helmet-hair in iffy weather, they wore these pretty, little silk scarves that they knotted under their chins. Today, we associate scarf-wrapped hair with little old ladies, but of course back in the day, those ladies were hip girls with perfect piles of plumage, and everyone wore silk scarves when it looked like rain.
Overall, the star of the show was the eyeliner. I don't wear much makeup, myself. I wear concealer and blush to look less tired and pale, so I'm no expert, but the 1960s had to be the golden age for eyeliner. There was the Twiggy/ Mia Farrow bright-eyed pixie look, featuring fake lashes spackled in black goo and raccoon-lined lids, and the Barbra Streisand cat eye. This film has both. If I had watched this movie as a sixth grader at a sleepover-- and oh, how I wish I could have-- I know there would have been a makeover session afterwords. Hair would get teased, eyes colored black, and singing and swooning would follow.
Speaking of sixth grade, the male lead in this film is super hot. He definitely deserves a place on a folded, paper, future-telling devise... Is there a name for those things? I have no idea.
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