I’m always amazed that these portmanteau films (quite in vogue in the sixties) still get made, as they’re rarely successful. The ones that concentrate on only a couple of directors are usually let down by one of the segments turning out to be a real disaster: case in point, Eros, where Antonioni’s offering is so bad it’s embarrassing. At least Paris, je t’aime keeps the segments short – 17 in two hours – and most of the directors understand what’s at stake here, providing a short slice of Paris life before fading out on a nice narrative point. The only bad ones: Christopher Doyle’s tiresome doodlings in Chinoiserie, Sylvain Chomet’s twee mimes, Vicenzo Natali’s out of place vampire mini-flick. But overall it’s a pleasant enough two hours, even if the final result of watching so many insubstantial stories doesn’t add up to much.
by Ian Johnston | Source: 35mm print
10 Dec 2006 10:05 AM | Submit Comment
