.

Monsieur Chariot

Monsieur Chariot
Location
That Dazzling and Luminous California Metropolis known as The City Of The Angels, USA
Birthday
June 08
Bio
Offering Discreet Tutelage in the Metropolitan Arts to Inquiring Gentlepersons of Variously Misguided Social Persuasions

MY RECENT POSTS

JULY 16, 2010 4:26PM

Out of Joint

Rate: 61 Flag

· The Finical Filmgoer ·

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 M. Chariot's natural joie-de-vivre has been suppressed by a period of uncertain health, mainly involving the little fingers: they've come out of joint. Not the first time, I can tell you that! It is an ongoing constitutional concern which limits the sweet pleasures to be plucked from life's trembling bower.

Looking back, I recall episodes of digital dysfunction. "Excessive politesse," Corinne - my first wife - would warble, "has a deleterious effect on the minor digits!"

"Parsnips and Poppycockle!" I'd reply, swooping into the music room with splayed pinkies and not a bit of irritation. "Politesse is that most refined oil with which we toss the salad of culture, my dear Corinne!"

Sniffing, she would return to her nocturnes on the harpsichord.

"The coarse, raw vegetables of discourse are only swallowed via the lubricious, satiny oils of courtliness and solicitude!" I'd deliver this last with a brisk flourish. To her back.  

Sigh. One must simply banish from one's mind the conversations which led to divorce, musn't one? We carry on, secure in our most precious convictions.

As refined gentlepersons well know, out-of-joint pinkies are a sartorial catastrophe. Have you ever tried to insert your hands into a pair of gray suede formal gloves with the pinkies bent higgledy-piggledy in the opposite direction? A grim, unnatural task indeed. And yet, aspirations to high culture do not exist without struggle.

Taken to my Victorian bed in search of recovery, snug in a hilly meadow of eyelet pillows and propped up before a tiny portable captain's bed desk, one has little energy for anything other than watching old films. Thankfully dear reader, your humble author wields the quill-pen without the pinky - to be sure, they were never much employed in that regard in the first place. As such I submit these humble cinema reviews to your delicate considerations.

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Angels and Insects (1995)

On a recent Friday evening, feeling tired and lonely as we single persons are wont to feel on occasion, I was pleased to encounter that familiar scarlet envelope in my mailbox. Le Netflique! And so I trudged up to my second floor flat, put down my parcels, washed my face and hands, prepared a small dish of Spanish green rice, mixed roasted squashes with fresh sage, and a small piece of lime-marinated beef, uncorked a half-bottle of a sourish Merlot, and settled in to Angels and Insects (1995).

"I think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen," intones an entranced William Adamson (M. Mark Rylance) to his betrothed, Eugenia Alabaster (Mlle Patsy Kensit), a pale moth-like girl in a voluminous iridescent dress like a cocoon, large eyes gleaming and darting, her head framed by two massive whorls of thick blonde hair. In this stunningly beautiful and disturbingly erotic film, the performances of these two actors (Ryland is the artistic director of The Globe, and Kensit was the previous decade's Sienna Miller) are simply mesmerizing.

Angels and Insects, set in the 1800s, is the story of a British naturalist who is shipwrecked after spending 10 years in the Amazon jungle studying arthropods. His specimens, money and writings lost, he is forced onto the good will of an aristocratic benefactor, who takes him into his stately mansion to help organize his own "private collections". Much is made of the savage parallels between the insect and the human worlds, and the mansion itself is presented as an enormous, labyrinthine hive, its human inhabitants reminiscent of ants, spiders, ticks and centipedes.

The film is based on the novel entitled Morpho Eugenia by Mlle A. S. Byatt, and the art direction is breathtaking: the costuming, makeup and hairstyles configured to cast the characters in a faintly squeamish dimension, a crawling and festering world one might find under a stone in the forest. Mlle Kristin Scott Thomas, lambent, black and ant-like, serves as tutor to the children, who appear to have been cast for their balletic skills, their movements crisp and delicate as butterflies.

I have long adored this film, which examines the ritual and disaster of romance, of mating through a unique and arresting lens. Spellbinding.


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Secret Ceremony (1968)

A weekend or so ago (I can barely remember), M. Chariot received a call from his actor friend M. Meutrier, who, as it happens, is preparing for a new role in something on the television. And so I was invited to see an obscure film with some bearing to something-or-other related to the new role, details of which I would relate here if I had managed to pay attention.

Shortly we found ourselves at the Egyptian Theatre, a state-of-the-art cinema tucked inside a cavernous tomblike portico just steps off the seedy glitz of Hollywood Boulevard. A terrible fuss was made to accommodate my antique wooden wheelchair (essential as my pinkies were feeling particularly delicate that evening), which M. Meutrier finally managed to navigate into the allotted niche. At the Egyptian, Hollywood's most tedious cinephiles gather under the auspices of American Cinematheque to see cultish, forgotten movies before they rot, unrestored, in their original film canisters.

On this very evening, Mlle Elizabeth Taylor, Mlle Mia Farrow and M. Robert Mitchum were to be viewed starring in Secret Ceremony, directed by M. Joseph Losey in 1968.

Gentle cinema-goer, be forewarned: I am here to tell you that what unfolded on the screen before us was an unspeakable descent into madness, sexual perversion, prostitution, child molestation, nymphomania, suicide and murder — a list which describes only the film's more, shall we say, "wholesome" moments. Secret Ceremony is not for those with weak stomachs, persons suffering from extreme sexual delicacy or those whom stress leaves teetering on the edge of psychosis. Gentlemen may have some anthropological interest, but gentlewomen should steer clear of the entire affair. I am after this submission forwarding a hand-written note to Netflique's, congratulating them on their strict refusal to allow an innocent public access this erotic monstrosity!

Secret Ceremony is rated R: for Repugnant!


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To Each His Own (1946)

M. Chariot has long been a fan of Mlle Olivia de Havilland. This marvelous actress had one of those soulful faces which registered every emotion, and was able to transmit great depth of character, a resonant dignity to film. To Each His Own opens in London during WWII, and Mlle de Havilland portrays successful yet hardened, middle-aged businesswoman Jody Norris, supporting The Cause by keeping watch on a London rooftop, where she meets Lord Desham (M. Roland Culver), also doing his part to salvage the city. They bicker, two old codgers run ragged, embittered by war and life's vicissitudes, when he trips and almost plunges to his death. De Havilland saves his life, and they later get to know each other, icy boundaries melting over drinks and dinner, surrounded by loud servicemen in a local restaurant. Slowly surrendering their defenses, they begin talking openly about maturity, regret, loss and loneliness, whereupon the story opens onto de Havilland's past.

As a young girl in a small town in upstate NY, she meets and is romanced by a glamorous, visiting military flyer (M. John Lund) who is shortly killed in action, when she discovers she is pregnant with his child. She is forced to give the baby up for adoption, to a snobbish local couple. The story traces her relationship to her son and his adoptive parents over the next 20 years, and her tragic inability to reveal that she is his mother.

A well-made, classic tearjerker with a great script and sharp dialogue, reflecting the shattering effect of the war years, when lives could only be mended with great courage. Mlle De Havilland won a well-deserved Best Actress Oscar for her performance. Be sure to have several boxes of tissues at hand.


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Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006)

A dark and enveloping enchantment starring M. Dustin Hoffman, M. Alan Rickman, M. Ben Whishaw and Mlle Rachel Hurd-Wood. Adored it. I understand that many people cherish the novel upon which the film is based, Das Parfum by Patrick Süskind, the mysterious German author who has refused interviews for over twenty years. I'm almost sure I've read the novel, obviously finding it forgettable, which in all honesty could be attributed to Alzheimer's, opium abuse or the mind-numbing effect of sequential bad marriage, let the reader opine.

But the film held my lovely visitor Mlle Dubonnet, exquisitely perched on the tip of my sumptuous leather sectional, enthralled. Swirling images of the vulgar, the erotic, the sublime. Psychological loopholes subliminally familiar to us all unfold to reveal crevasses in the passionately deranged mind. Carnal abandonment, an immersion in the voluptuous, the spell, the stagger, the sway of scent and the mad things it can make us do.

Interesting things were occurring on the screen as well. Ravishing! A bewitchment.

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Finical Filmgoer Reviews:

Salt (2010)

Angels and Insects (1995)

Secret Ceremony (1968)

To Each His Own (1946)

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006)

The Twilight Saga: New Moon (2009)

The Children (2008)

Antonioni's L'Avventura (1960)

They Came Back (2004)

Ma mère (2004)

The Staircase (2004)

Mimic (1997)

The Golden Bowl (2000)

Last Year at Marienbad (1961)

Edge of Darkness (2010)

Far from the Madding Crowd (1967)

It's Complicated (2009)

 Goodbye Again (1961)

Antichrist (2009)

The Big Lebowski (1998)


Smash His Camera (2010)

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::sigh::

pinky's up!

(I loved Secret Ceremony. Haven't viewed it in years. Now I'll have to Netflik it.) (The other films look intriguing and I shall Netflik them as well)
Most precisely and elegantly put, M. Chariot, *comme d'habitude*. I may have to investigate this *Netflique* of which you speak!
oh coincidence- yesterday I put Perfume on the top of my netflix cue. The book of the same title also came in- in Spanish...missed that bit when ordering it. It's losing most of it's nuance through bablefish, but luckily the Brits have a copy of an English version on its way to me. For some reason the US don't seem to sell it in paperback or in audible?
Angels and Insects looks really good, too- must go add that.
I'm so enthralled by your style, that I forget you have content as well.

As the PG Wodehouse character poetess Peavey sighed, 'Maitre' (avec accent).
Oh, I so loved Angels and Insects! I came across it by accident and fell in love. The others I will have to check out. I confess that despite your considerate admonishment against it, I am intrigued by the Secret Ceremony. Perhaps it was the article about Liz and Dick in Vanity Fair that has reawakened my interest in Taylor and that time period, but if I can get my hands on a copy I will see it, I will!
Ah, what a relief to be able to read you Monsieur. I was beginning to lose hope. And how gallant of you to review these movies for us in your delicate and vulnerable position. You are truly without a selfish bone in your body (including your little fingers). I find myself disturbed to realize that I am now most curious about "Secret Ceremony" and am on an urgent excursion, at the cost of my soul it seems, to find it. As for mr, it would be quite horrid to find my pinkies in a position such as yours. How in the world would I be able to drink my tea? Highly R.
M. Chariot, can it really be merely coincidence that my thoughts turned to you just this very morning? I think not!

I fear I have been a bit out of joint myself lately, although the reasons are myriad and have some justification, although I may also have allowed myself to grow a bit too weary of some of life's tribulations.

I think that I shall take to my pillows with a cool apéritif and this latest installment of your delightful film reviews. Merci--truly--and may your joints return themselves to their proper positions with haste.
Oh, and with M's good taste, I was wondering if you could help me with a dilemma. Fracas or Montale Intense Tiare? Which is more lovely, tuberose or gardenia? Or neither? too old lady?
The mother-in-law of "Angels and Insects" was the queen of the nest, to be sure, and she looked the part with all of her worker ants scurrying about trying to incur her favor. A worthy addition to M. Chariot's movie queue.

I definitely must find "Secret Ceremony." Not sure how I missed that one!
Merci, monsieur. Your film criticism is, as always, most divinatory. (Mimic is the only film I've ever begun watching from which I had to turn away in horror.)

If my little fingers were shaped like yours, I would be able to reach more notes on the lute, which I have recently taken up under the inspiration of Monsieur Sting.
I think you must BE Ms. Taylor, working up a cult following to your favorite obscure film...
Marvelous! I've been tempted to look at Angels and Insects, but have never done it; it goes to the top of my list. I very much enjoyed Perfume, the novel, but I found the movie a bit dark in the beginning and never finished watching it. I should give it another try. Thanks for the reviewsw.

Best of luck in your recuperation--I imagine you wearing bulky Victorian contraptions on both hands, all leather belts and iron screws, like Edward Scissorhands minus the sharp and pointy bits.
I look forward to making the acquaintence of these films, M. Chariot, and thank you, as always, for your gracious recommendations.
I am momentarily recovered from the swoon induced by the image of Alan Rickman that you so kindly included, but I think the rest of my day is not likely to be very productive ;0
Monsieur, que je suis desolee! To think of your errant fingers straying from their proper positions and functions! I too would take to my bed.

The silver lining, of course, are your helpful and insightful reviews, although composed at what cost to yourself, what pain endured while manipulating the keyboard, one hates to think. Since there are no good new movies this summer - they all seem to have been made for nine year olds - I will sample those you recommend.

I pray that you may soon be restored to robust good health.
I, for one am willing to agree to disagree in this instance, overall, with your permission, of course, albeit finding no fault to speak of, comme d'habitude, with your manner, syntax, droll wit or topic. In fact, I'm having a bit of a problem at the moment remembering what the hell it is that I am petitioning you to enable me, with your grâce coutumier, to agree pas d'accord avec vous sur. I, therefore, until clarity should return to my addled thoughts, remain your most humble and obedient, if evidently disagreeable, correspondent.
Always a pleasure Monsieur. Your rebellious phalanges do not impede your words and observations from being intellectual salve. Nor does it hurt that I concur 100% regarding Das Parfum.
Always a pleasure Monsieur. Your rebellious phalanges do not impede your words and observations from being intellectual salve. Nor does it hurt that I concur 100% regarding Das Parfum.
I do feel rather enlightened, thank you darling, mmm. R
no Secret Ceremony on Netflix!

feh!
I concur Mlle Olivia de Havilland is a gift to the camera, though Perfume did disturb my sensibilities. Perhaps it was the violence mixed with the "carnal abandonment."

I shall keep the others in mind for my viewing pleasure. Merci.
Monsieur, I'm concerned about you. You recommended the second in the Twilight Saga! That film reduced me to a catatonic state of half sleep, half dread, half misery. I was coerced by my granddaughter to view it, since she was intent upon seeing the third installment while in our care.

I declared that I would rather deliver a hot poker to the eyeballs before viewing numero tres The Eclipse. Husband, the Saint accompanied her instead and to this day complains that he has lost at least ten of his better IQ points.
Wonderful reviews. I have seen all but Secret Ceremony, and thanks to your warnings about questionable content, it is on my list to check out. Perfume, I had to watch a second time. Alan Rickman in a snug waistcoat demands that. The cinematography was pretty too. And, um, yippeee, you're back.
Thanks for the reviews. I once saw part of "Angels and Insect" and I enjoyed. I must make a point of seeing it again.
'Angels and Insects' is on my list. We'll chat later re my post theatrical (and coital) sentiments. Kisses. Chairs.
A pleasure indeed to hear from you again, M.
I saw Perfume because I am a Tykwer fan and will watch/recommend anything anything by him. I wish I could understand German just so I could see "Die tödliche Maria". Haven't seen the others...
I have loved "Angels and Insects" since I first saw it. Kristen Scott Thomas' performance is perhaps the finest supporting work I have ever seen by any actress.

Rated for bringing that back to peoples attention. Noble of you.
But just to picture you elegantly sipping tea with your pinkie raised. I do enjoy your selection, mais pardon, Twilight? Mon dieu! And how about 'Body Heat,' the perfect film for a hot summer's night.
Merci beaucoup, M. Chariot. I hope you regain your joie de vivre and the use of your full digital abilities very soon.
Mon cher Monsieur Chariot -- I am so sorry to hear about your pinkies! Perhaps you've been drinking the wrong tea?? And thoughtfully, I shall pray for them!

As to Angels & Insects--yes! It was luscious and horrifying! I can't imagine Secret Ceremony being worse! (But my sincere thanks for warning me!)

I think I shall have to watch Perfume--because I adore Alan Rickman! But most of all, I'm happy to see you here! Though the burden of typing must have worn on you, for sure...

Love and Healing! (And more reviews!) Mlle. Julie
Your post is like a trip to a past I don't regret. I shan't overanalyze.
Merci, Monsieur.

Long summer here. This post is helpful, and hopeful.
I've missed you! I'm happy to learn that your condition has not affected your film reviews. "R for repugnant" is brilliant! Best wishes for a speedy recovery, although your pinkies are in the proper position for tea drinking, yes?
Your poor pinkies, which of course would result in the necessity for a victorian wheelchair. Do they have victorian hospital beds? Maybe you need to let up on the hand-wringing.

These all sound like good pics, and I have been a long-time fan of Olivia DeHavilland, though I would have chosen for your ex-wife, Mary Astor, delicate, lovely and suitably refined yet dramatic for a gentleperson such as yourself. I'll look for them all, just on your say-so, as I do crave enlightenment.

However, I have been meaning to tell you that although I never read Hotel DuLac (couldn't find it at Goodwill), I did read 2 others by Anita Brooker, Undue Influence and The Latecomers. Though I adore kitchen sink fiction/drama, I nearly died of boredom from these 2 books. You would find Alice Munro to be positively action-packed in comparison. Yeesh.
Elegant post, once again! And so glad to see someone (anyone?) picking one of my classic-era Paramount faves, ‘To Each His Own’.

You’ve made me quite happy I had a sec (for a change) to check in on the OS festivities...
M. Chariot, your postings are always a delight. Of the films you mention, I've only seen Secret Ceremony and I was in my teens. At that moment, I thought it was the worst movie I had ever seen. Myra Breckinridge and Ishtar were yet to come.
"Politesse is that most refined oil with which we toss the salad of culture" Yeah, but salad is flabby w.o. some vinegar.

Well, in your own refined - if not entirely oily - way, you manage the odd drop of acid.

Angels and Insects - this is a real film? Pardon me, but out in the boonies I hardly ever see movies, except sometimes what passes for same on cable, and in any event I am not a fan, TV having destroyed my attention span ... tho if this is real and not a product of your slightly strange mind, it might be worth seeing... Your description aintly reminds me of Gormenghast, if you're familiar with that EXTREMELY strange trilogy...

And gee, Secret Ceremony sounds quite intriguing, sort of like a cinematic version of Saturday evening at OS. (I'm Elizabeth Taylor...) (Okay, I'm not...)

To Each His Own sounds a little too wholesome... Perfume sounds more like it (LATE Saturday night on OS, but with wigs).

To Susan Mitchell, who said, "I fear I have been a bit out of joint myself lately, although the reasons are myriad..." My apologies... I hope gazing upon Rickman's vivid visage has cured you.

(People on OS complaining about lack of civility and manners in posts and comments would have less to complain about if you posted more often, m'sieu, since you get us all talking like you in short order.)
Well, but of course, after playing nanny for caterpillars I most definitely will watch Angels and Insects. Perfume I have missed and wil readdress that mistake.
Oh, and may your pinkies heal. Perhaps a direct result of holding cups of tea in particular ways?
My dear Monsieur, Thank Heaven you have steered me from the horrid Secret Ceremony! Although it wasn't exactly on my list, I'm grateful that I can actively avoid it now.

I will look for the Perfume one, not only because you loved it and I try to love all things that you love, but because the estimable M. Alan Rickman graces its cast, and that is reason enough for me. As for why you can't remember whether you read the novel, it seems obvious to me that the particular neurons relating to Long Term German Psychological Thriller Novelistic memories are located in the pinkie fingers, and yours are robbed of electrical current by their unnatural ninety degree turns.

PS I think you are the one who recommended the dark UNTIL THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD movie; I watched it the other night and enjoyed it immensely, thrilling in the knowledge that we all of us have a little of the devil in us.
Monsieur, thank you for another great set of movie reviews. And I wish your ailing digitus mínimus mánus a speedy recovery. Surely your present physical deformity must make it very difficult to play your rackett and gemshorn.
Owie! Your elegance and style have been sorely missed here in the trenches of the trenchant. Welcome back and feel better...

For some reason, since I was a little kid, whenever I saw someone else's owie, my feet would ache. Your x-rays brought that back!
I am glad that you are back! Have you changed your mind about our marriage?
What I love the best is how you bring out the closet Victorians in many of the readers who post in your comments. I can't even imagine myself expressed in such an elegant style, so I won't even try. But I do enjoy quietly sitting at the table.
You know I absolutely adore anything Henry James and especially The Golden Bowl. Barely readable to most folks, but Holy Hanna -- great stuff . . . I delighted in the silver screen adaptation.

I need to see Secret Ceremony. I tend to like Liz in black and white the best . . . can't say why. God, I miss Monty Clift.
No tea for you! Until those pinkies clear up . . .
You had me at Alan Rickman. But...Mlle Dubonnet? Who's going to break it to Sandy?
Monsieur Chariot, (said in a French accent)

I’m glad to see you back. I wish I could discuss the movies you reviewed so well for us, but I’m afraid that since I haven’t seen any of them (with the exception of Basic Instinct and Mimic as noted at the bottom) my input would be very limited . Perhaps when time permits I shall watch one or two on your list. Your review makes them very appealing.
It’s a safe assumption that our tastes in movies are very different consequently I am now very curious about Secret Ceremony. I have never even heard of it before which also makes you Monsieur; informative besides being a gifted writer which I already knew.

The splayed pinkies could be a symptom of lupus that was the diagnosis (after a half dozen doctors) for my ex after she exhibited the same symptoms. I think you should have it looked into, it would be a terrible shame if anything should interfere with such a fine and refined intellect.
Dear M.

A bent finger, undoubtedly disjointed from holding a heavy teacup too long.

Thanks so much for the reviews. I did see "Parfume", which was a treat. And you've surely piqued my interest in "Secret Ceremony". Sounds like a sub-plot of my life, so I'll have to give it a peek, although not on Netfliques, unfortunately.

As a side note I read "The End of Cheri" which really was the end of Cheri. So sad.
Ah bien sur-M. Chariot est arrivee encoure. (End of French). Loved your reviews, esp the photos of Kristin Scott Thomas and La Liz --also the incomparable Alan Rickman. "Angels and Insects" sounds like a must see. "Perfume" did not hold my interest, tant pis but j'adore: L'Avenurra, Ma Mere, est especiallmente (fake french): "The Staircase."

Hoping you renewed health, I beg you to say whether you watched the whole many hours of "Staircase" and if so, did you find Michael Petersen guilty? innocent? Don't know?"

Wishing your dislodged pinkies to re-lodge, sending love, Wendy
I mark the date: Saturday, July 18, 2010. The Day I Found Out I Wasn't the Only One With a Huge Crush on Alan Rickman. Rejoicing. Byatt is a master, got to check out that film. Thanks.
Yes! "Angels and Insects" was indeed a wonder!

I haven't seen "Perfume," yet, but I do like Alan Rickman. I'll have to look for it now.

Not much of an Elizabeth Taylor fan, except when she was much younger.

Have not seen "To Each His Own."
p.s. Where oh where, my dear M. Chariot, did you find that "x-ray" with the splayed pinkies?
I fear, M. Chariot, that a simple perusal of your generous set of recommendations has only exposed me to the depths of my own depravity.

"Angels and Insects" is a complex, beautiful and thoroughly unified artistic vision. I regret to say, however, that I found director Philip Hass's intentional distancing far too cold and aloof to connect with the characters. However, I was fascinated by the scene in which William (Mark Rylance) caught his aristocratic wife, Eugenia (Patsy Kensit), en flagrante with her brother Edgar Alabaster (Douglas Henshall). I must shamefully confess that I found viewing M. Henshall's male member repeatably enjoyable.

On a more political note, I must protest to this film's appalling depiction of the aristocracy. One would believe from this prejudiced celluloid screed that our betters have nothing on their minds but "breeding," breeding all day long. Or at least that they are more obsessed with it than the lower orders. Also--and this is the cheeky bit--the film implies that incest is more likely among the aristocracy. As if!

Not having read the novel, I have no idea if these execrable suggestions originated in A. S Byatt's text. If so, she--and the filmmakers--are carrying out class warfare. Their savage work will only lead to mob rule and the madness of the guillotine!

You kindly meant to warn me against "Secret Ceremony" . . . but your warning has had the exact opposite effect upon me! Forgive me, monsieur, but I am drawn to this movie like a moth to the flame. No doubt, I shall furtively seek out this dangerous film in the same sort of benighted environs to which you were dragged by your dubious friend. Perhaps I shall weaken and sully my soul further by enjoying a cappuccino or cocktail with one of the venue's habitues afterwards--I am such a perverse and lonely woman, monsieur.

I am intrigued by Mlle de Havilland as much as you. Therefore, it shall be no struggle to procure "To Each His Own" for my own delectation. However, M. Chariot, I believe we can both agree that her role as Melanie Hamilton in "Gone With the Wind" was an absolute turkey and not worthy of her.

"Perfume: The Story of a Murderer" is absolutely perverse. Therefore, it is a perfect metaphor for the narcissistic inner drives of the artist. At first, my feminist instincts roiled within me--the murder of women turned into art--appalling! And yet that is what art is, monsieur. That is the very raw nerve of art.

I shall willingly witness the unfolding of this film again, only this time I shall watch it totally dressed in black, totally alone, after quaffing absinthe. Maybe a little cheese for a light nosh.

I found Alan Rickman's portrayal of Antoine Richis' fatherly protection of his daughter, Laura (Rachel Hurd-Wood), disturbingly erotic. But when has M. Rickman not been disturbingly erotic? And I wanted to have sex with the daughter. As for the role of the artist/murderer, Grenouille, Ben Whishaw is simply sublime.

There you have it, M. Chariot. I have almost written down for you the full catalogue of my crimes.

Almost.
Your nomme du web positively slays me. And I'm a big fan of Angels & Insects too. What a delicious slice of hive.
witty, stylish and informative as always. It's rare when I am influenced, but you do.
M. CHariot,

I fervently hope your bout with digital inflamation is long past. Thank you for this memorable list of films. Rest assured, you have left me profoundly disturbed AND intrigued by "Secret Ceremony"! I mean really, didn't Mia Farrow go through enough secret ceremonies in the last '60's???
How does a man of your deportment endure "Secret Ceremony"? Are you sure the film isn't responsible for your most unfortunate digital angularity? (I'm quite sure my pinkies would have splintered during the opening credits.) My dear monsieur, there are refined ways to satisfy one's anthropological inquisitiveness. Hustler magazine comes to mind.
You know, the farther your pinkies extend away from your hand, the more of an independent thinker and rebellious person you are....hmmm....
Love these movies...I'm addicted to TCM channel. Olivia, the best...! Alan Rickman is awesome...heard that movie was worth the view. Thanks for the info. I have a lot of catching up to do!
Dear Sir,
You will be pleased to know I read Sense and Sensibility this summer and have watched the movie by Ms. Emma Thompson weekly.

May I say how much I admire your persona and I am sure to return to your writing to respond when I have more time. Guests are waiting for me in the hallway. They know nothing of which you speak and I will, given my character, make the best of their company.

My best regards,
If I may be so bold, Monsieur Chariot, JE VOUS AIME!!!
Also, rest assured, I, too found the book version of "The Perfume" dull and forgettable. So it seems the pinky issue is your only problem.