Has it already been a week? Dang.
All right: have some Sophie Marceau doing a happy little dance until I come back with more pictures and stories. It’s taken by the way from a not so good French film (Fanfan) – if you ask me this is the best part.
PS: Would you find it useful if I wrote some French movie and tv reviews?
PPS: You might be puzzled as to why Vincent Pérez is also dancing and what is actually going on. He rented the studio next door to Fanfan and had a fancy two-way mirror installed so he can watch her (he thinks he’s in love with her but he’s already engaged, bla bla bla). Creepy? Much.
Speaking of métro and Paris, this is one of my favourite songs ever. It is so cheekily French: yes there is accordéon, but its French essence therein does not lie. It’s in the juxtaposition of the lazy lower-class Parisian accent, the slightly melancholic tune and lyrics mixed with animated dialogue from a group of friends having a drink at a bistro. Shame there isn’t a proper video for this song (although the one I’m imagining in my head, with grainy métro footage of the blue and white tiles, and twinkling city lights is probably prettier).
Some things etch themselves into your memory when you’re 6 years old. Like an ad with sugar cubes as far as the eye can see.
This video was shot when the movie came out and shows her rehearsing her dance moves in front of her tv. Adorable I say.
How could you not love a song that says both ‘Bang’ and ‘Pop’? Immediately one after the other?
Chapi Chapo are cheeky little children living in a magical world of colourful shapes, getting up to various cute-as-pie giggly adventures.
They always feel like busting a move at the end of each episode, a mixture of leg-shaking ballet and tap (did I say cute-as-pie?).
I personally hold Chapi responsible for making me want long flowey blond hair as a child – and for my appreciation of large brimmed hats.
More Chapi Chapo adventures here.
If I got a dollar every time someone asked me to say ‘Non monsieur, I deed not no zat Petit Miam ‘as a lot more calceeum zan meelk’, well, I would be rich.
As much as I love Louise Attaque’s first self-titled album, I think my favourite is their second. And as impossible as it is to pick a favourite from all the songs in ‘Comme on a dit’, if pressed I will say ‘La plume’.
Which features a little cork with eyes, arms and legs up to slightly confusing adventures which involve swimming around like a medusa and pushing a fellow cork on a swing. Let me know if you figure it out.
Their official site is here – and if you visit you will learn with dismay they are on hiatus again. Bum.
Cliché ahead: I love Édith Piaf (but I hated the movie – a story for another time). For me her music speaks about life in a way that is unmatched: sometimes miserable/sweet/uplifting, a mixture of uncontrived emotions that go right through me and make me want to twirl.
I heard one of her songs on the radio two days ago by an English-speaking artist (her French was damn good with just the most lovely tinges of an accent): after some digging, I’m fairly positive I had my first run in with Martha Wainwright and her rendition of ‘Le Brun et le Blond’.
I am now obsessed and have ‘Sans fusils, Ni Souliers, À Paris‘ squarely in my sights. I couldn’t find the song I heard on youtube, so instead I will leave you with another beautiful classic she performed in London just last week. I dare you not to twirl.
As much as I am irritated by people using French words for effect (read here about my full indignation), I am so endeared when anyone speaks French with me (whatever their knowledge of it). I was all excited when I found these two covers of a cheesy but catchy song I remember from my childhood. Midnight Juggernauts and Vampire Weekend, you little cuties you.