“We’ll always have Paris”. The immortal words spoken by Humphrey Bogart’s Rick throughout cinema classic Casablanca have resonated throughout time since the first time they were uttered on screen. Whilst the phrase hearkens back to a bygone era of cinema, they also contain as much relevance now as they did back then for, like it or not, Paris is here and it’s here to stay. Even if you are one of the Gallic naysayers, the small (but angry) crowd against the French capital, there’s no denying the urban beauty of the place. Like a pretty and clever schoolgirl, Paris gets hate because we all wish that we were a little more like it.
In the movies, Paris has undergone transformation after transformation, propping up the most unlikely of love stories, showcasing the daftest of street chases and harbouring the darkest of evil plots. Paris is a place of many guises and in cinema, we can truly appreciate its multifaceted beauty.
France was the birthplace of cinema; when the Lumiere brothers created their first camera prototype, they opened up an entirely new art form, allowing people to experience the world in a way entirely new. In their travelling act, they showed audiences scenes and places with which they were already familiar yet which, when projected onto a large screen, took on a different kind of reality, separate from the world in which they lived. A cinematic subject since the birth of cinema, Paris isn’t really new to most of us. Yet, when we see it, we are reminded of its legacy, of the things which happened there and the people it introduced us to.
In Jean Vigo’s 1934 feature film L’Atalante, a newlywed couple take a barge into the French capital. Accompanied by a sparse all male crew and as many cats as you can count, things soon start to go south for the couple and the closer that they inch towards their destination, the less likely it seems that they will stay together. The only time in which the couple stray from the water is when Juliette, the young bride, makes her brief escape to Paris. Running through the streets and in and out of bars, her time in Paris seems like a type of extramarital affair, undertaken briefly so that she can experience a different kind of love. Although she eventually returns to her husband’s arms, Juliette seems affected by her time on dry land, a stronger woman.
The French New Wave was a movement obsessed with the French capital. Throughout the films of Eric Rohmer, Francois Truffaut and Claude Chabrol, Paris is the unofficial star. It was in Jean Luc Godard’s Breathless, however, that the city really made its name. Breathless is the classic story of man on the run meets beautiful but essentially unattainable woman. With all of the street chasing, it’s a wonderful showcase for the city, as much of an adventure for its audience as its characters. The French New Wave was responsible for making Paris the hub of black and white cool it is considered today. Featuring it as the backdrop for so many existential crises, love affairs and polo necks, the era turned Paris from city of romance to city of intrigue.
It is in more recent cinema that Paris has started to change its face somewhat. Not satisfied with being the centre of cinematic cool, it has taken on a number of incarnations, proving how chameleon-esque it can be. Leos Carax replicated one of Paris’ most famous bridges, turning the city into a cinematic playground and piling up some serious filming costs. Les Amants du Pont Neuf tells of the blossoming relationship between a homeless man and a woman driven to the streets because of a debilitating disease. The film is largely confined to the Pont Neuf, a sprawling bridge, pockmarking the Seine. Transforming the Parisian space, the film presents a much more playful and arguably dramatic version of the city, proving that it isn’t too cool to put on a big show.
Of course, Paris has a dark side and in ‘90s cinema, it was showcased in more than one way. La Haine revolves around a notorious gang and their run in with local police. Situated very much away from what cinema would have us see, La Haine shows an entirely different side of the city, a sprawling underworld in which it is virtually impossible to escape your surroundings. The city of La Haine is stifling and thick with violence and yet, feels undeniably real. Sometimes, the twee brightness of central Paris feels a little overplayed and in the depths of La Haine, the city shows that its bright lights are sometimes just a cover for something a lot more sinister.
In Holy Motors, Leos Carax strikes again, showing us his very particular version of the French capital, unlike anything that has come before. The film is an anthology of sorts, dropping in and out of places around the city, brought together only by Denis Lavant’s mercurial central character. Driven around the city, Lavant’s man takes on different guises and different narratives, dipping in and out of each plot line as easily as he slips into new clothes. The film is somewhat incomprehensible but with Leos Carax, comprehension is rarely essential. Each brief, unexplained plot is like a new thread in the larger story. In Holy Motors, the small and seemingly insignificant construct the whole and whilst there might not be any clear reason to why, the inconsequence and arbitrary nature of the film is a closer rendition of real life than many others which have come before.
Paris is a city which lends itself to the light of the big screen. Whilst its central lines are the places which we would perhaps feel more comfortable, it is in its darker side streets that the really interesting things start to happen. Harbourer of criminals, downfall to countless love affairs, the city is a place teeming with constantly forming life and in cinematic terms, Paris is just getting starting in showing us what it’s made of.