Author: THE HOBBLEDEHOY

Michael Stevenson, aka Dai Bando, Johnny Foreigner, Monsieur Pas De Merde, is a blogger of French and British culture. His blogs "Pas De Merde" and "The Hobbledehoy" have been called "marvelous" by some, and "meh" by others.

‘From the Land of the Moon’ Review: Cotillard Deserves Better

After winning a surprising awards circuit sweep in 2007, Marion Cotillard found herself in a special position. Suddenly, she could command big Hollywood paychecks and also get European art house fare bankrolled just by signing on. Since then, she’s regularly leaped across oceans to do both. While there have been some brilliant movies made in Cotillard’s name, far too many have been like ‘From the Land of the Moon’. This stilted, dull, and often nauseatingly navel-gazing exercise in misery porn exists purely to let Cotillard emote hard and stare out in dull pain even harder. She’s good at it, but it would be nice if the movie surrounding all that acting offered as much to audiences as it did to the actress.Cotillard stars as Gabrielle, a woman who [ . . .  ]

More at ‘From the Land of the Moon’ Review: Cotillard Deserves Better – High-Def Digest: The Bonus View

Train to Avignon

Today, we take the train from Paris south to Avignon where we rent a car and drive to our home for the next four days in Uzes.

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France’s high-speed trains and the Paris Metro are far superior than that of the U.S. Wouldn’t it be great to have a word-class public transportation at home?

But, nooooooo – we must build a Wall, instead.

Love this train song by Tim Dup.

The clock atop Musée d’Orsay

Originally a railroad station built in 1810, The Musée d’Orsay was our destination for a Cezanne exhibit. The giant clock on the top floor restaurant is a work of art as well.

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And what time does the clock say? Beaudelaire:

Always be drunk.
That’s it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time’s horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
“Time to get drunk!
Don’t be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!”