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| France 1991 |
Jacquot de Nantes, made by Demy's wife, Agnès Varda, while he was dying, is not only a beautiful portrait of the director's life by his long-time intimate, but also a treasurable addition to the tradition of films about children. Dramatised episodes from Demy's childhood are intercut with excerpts from his films, including Lola and The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, and interspersed with personal footage of Demy late in life. Young Jacquot, played at different ages by three actors, the son of an auto mechanic and a hairdresser (two favourite professions in Demy's films), is crazy for puppet shows, plays, circuses, and movies. Spouting opinions about films, actresses, and directors, he becomes a baby cinephile. Despite privation and the Nazi occupation of France, Jacquot maintains his joy through the fantasy of becoming a filmmaker, creating his own characters at home, shooting films on a primitive camera in the attic, and trying out his tracking shots on roller skates. Affectionate, poetic, stirring, Jacquot includes a reconstruction of Demy's lost three-minute animated film Attaque nocturne, made when he was a child. — Cinematheque Ontario Varda's tribute to her husband Jacques Demy, who died in 1990, takes the form of a fictional reconstruction of the boy Jacquot's childhood, deriving its sense of authenticity not only from being shot in the real locations where Demy grew up, but from the fact that he himself collaborated with Varda, sifting through his memories. Home footage of Demy - together with clips from his films - casts an uncomfortably melancholic gaze on the proceedings. Extremely evocative, and vivaciously played by a cast of unknowns, this is a curious hybrid: part essay, part nostalgic reconstruction, at times sitting a little too cosily with the French vogue for faultlessly authentic reminiscence. Varda's valedictory may not bring you any closer to Demy the director, but it's an engrossing, moving tribute. — Jonathan Romney, Time Out |

