Archive for the 'film' Category

Alors!*

Bonjour! Last week was my much anticipated (by me) trip to Cannes for the Film Festival. Which was so amazing, and utterly unlike anything my life normally resembles. The glamour! The dresses! The red carpets! (I know, I know, I create such an aura of fabulousness that you thought my life must feature all these things on a daily basis, but sadly, no.) Oy. Très fun. Sadly we didn’t get to see as many films as we would have liked, because there are all sorts of restrictions on what you can get into (basic rule = the glitzier the premiere, the less likely they are to let the regular folk anywhere near it to contaminate its glitziness). So, because the particular pass we had was the “oh you’re only a meagre film student so we don’t really care about you” pass and not the “oh hello super important celebrity/top-notch executive, right this way please” pass, we only got to go to whatever there were spare invitations to, but it was still super-fabulous, and we still saw some interesting films.

Anyway, I have been on a major French kick ever since (it’s just so much fun to try and speak it, especially when you really, really can’t), so, in order to get some knitting in here somewhere, I bring you:

Le Sock!

I think it's love...

I knit this before going away, but had no time to blog. I still have the second one to do, but this was so speedy it shouldn’t take long. Apparently plain stockinette socks = speedy sock-knittin’ good times! Who knew?

And, patiently waiting for me upon my return home we also have:

Le Spinning Fibre!

Millefiore

4 oz of Corriedale in “Millefiore” from Pigeonroof Studios. Mmmm….

Oh how I wish I was going back for the rest of the festival (’twas just too expensive to stay for the whole thing). Le Sigh. I miss you, Cannes!

* I don’t entirely know what this means, but French people seem to say it a lot, so I feel I clearly ought to also.

It started with a chair.

As I may have mentioned before, I am doing a masters in film. My dissertation is going to be on gender stuff (y’know, not to be vague or anything), and sort of in the area of women and comedy. Having heard it might be relevant to my studies, I finally went to see Juno over the weekend, accompanied by my mum. So, full of anticipation, off we trekked to one of the few remaining cinemas that was still showing it.

I heart...

Having purchased our tickets we were directed down to the basement of the cinema, which turned out to be a labyrinthine void with oddly scattered cinema screens whose numbering followed no order I could make sense of. Slightly dazed, we eventually found the appointed screen 6, and took our seats. Clearly, we were in the dregs of the multiplex – one of those tiny venues with a small screen and maybe forty seats in all. And, for some rather intriguing reason I would dearly like to discover, fluted plaster columns that came about two-thirds of the way down the glossy red walls and then stopped short of the floor. Upon serious consideration, we decided they were most likely replicas, and probably did not originate in Ancient Greece. But the good folk of suburbia need a little glamour in their lives, surely.

The bizarre surroundings were already making me slightly giggly, when an old man shuffled in and sat down beside me, took out his newspaper and started to read it with almost aggressive enthusiasm, as if he fully intended to continue all the way through the feature, while making excessively loud chomping noises (he did not appear to be actually eating anything, but I didn’t like to get close enough to find out for sure). Sadly the dimming of the lights got the better of his reading, and the film started. Rather unusually, the kind proprietors seem to have felt that simply experiencing a single film, the one you have bought your ticket for, must be poor value for money and thus had cleverly designed their microscopic-dungeon-cinemas so that you could watch the film in front of you while also hearing quite clearly the one in the next room. This, let me assure you, made for delightful viewing. It’s always a treat when the quieter, more poignant moments in any film are shouted down by battle cries from a neighbouring film.

I heart...

Distractions aside, I am sorry to say I found the film incredibly disappointing. Too “cute” for my liking, not enough (or any?) substance. Which might have been fine in a different sort of film, but this at times seemed capable of much more.

Oh and the buttons? Recently delivered to my grateful hands all the way from New York, courtesy of my sister who was there for a week on holiday. Ever received buttons as a holiday-souvenir present? Vintage, 1970s French buttons at that? Downright fantastic is what it is.

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