A sigh for Baptiste...
The pure, amazingly elegant artist who can capture, or, even more, filter through his sensitivity the essences of characters and actions around him without speaking a word. A mime. A dancer and a dreamer. At times, a 'sleepwalker on the roof' (beautiful metaphor of letting the world go for a while, for longer, for longing for love). A bit outside reality but yet so alive...
The 'reality' of 'Les Enfants du Paradis' (1945) is an homage to theatre and a caption of an epoch. Its substance might be epic. Larger than life characters, namely the mime, the classical actor, and the criminal, under the spell of free-spirited Garance, tell a story of the simplicty of love and how it can be complicated by ego, wealth, hope, despair (and what not). In doing so, Michael Carne mixes dramatical genres, such as tragedy, buffonery, farce, mixes identities and stage roles, style and content, adds them up in a quite perfect (dis)illusion of Fate.
And it's so romantic...
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