film noir


There’s a flu virus circulating around Paris and many people from my office – including me – are at home in bed because of it.  So between naps, mugs of hot tea-honey-lemon and aspirin-paracetamol tablets every 6 hours, I’m snuggled up in bed – just me and my laptop – watching one of my favourite movie genres, “film noir”.  (below are links to three of them plus recommendations.)  And quite frankly, I can’t think of anything nicer to do on a gray, cold, dismal January day.


Where did the term “film noir” come from?

In general, the genre’s hallmarks are a cynical private detective as the protagonist, a femme fatale, multiple flashbacks with voiceover narration, dramatically shadowed photography, and a fatalistic mood leavened with provocative banter.

The term film noir, French for “dark film” is a cinematic term used primarily to describe stylish Hollywood crime dramas, particularly those that emphasize cynical attitudes and sexual motivations. Hollywood’s classical film noir period is generally regarded as extending from the early 1940s to the late 1950s.

Film noir of this era is associated with a low-key black and white visual style that has roots in German Expressionist cinematography

Many of the stories and much of the attitude of classic noir derive from the crime fiction that emerged in the United States during the Great Depression.

In the opening scenes there’s often a car careening down a city street (or a desert road) and it’s usually raining and at night.

Yesterday I watched Crime of Passion (1957) featuring Barbara Stanwyck, Sterling Hayden and Raymond Burr.

And Phone Call from a Stranger (1952) with Shelley Winters, Bette Davis and Gary Merrill.  Winters was superb.

Today I watched Gilda (1946).  Wow.  The sexual tension between bombshell Rita Hayworth and pretty boy Glenn Ford is so thick you could cut it with a knife. “I couldn’t get her out of my mind for a minute.  She was in the air I breathed, in the food I ate.”

I also recommend Mildred Pierce (1945) with Joan Crawford

Laura (1944) with Gene Tierney

Double Indemnity (1944) with Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck

In a Lonely Place (1950) with Humphrey Bogart

Out of the Past (1947) with Robert Mitchum

The Big Sleep (1946) with Bogart and Bacall

Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950) with Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews

Fox “News”


Do people really take Fox “News” seriously?  When I first saw it I thought it was a parody show that ridiculed the ultra-conservative views of the Republican Party.  And then to my horror I realized it wasn’t.  Fox “News” is the home of the Republican Party’s most conservative members.  People like Rush Limbaugh.  Karl Rove.  Dick Cheney.  Ugh.

Oh yes, Fox has an agenda and it’s as unsavory as Sarah Palin.  Last week when “experts” reported that no-go zones exist in the suburbs of Paris – areas where non-Muslims are allegedly not allowed and police supposedly won’t go; where Sharia law is practiced and some streets look like Baghdad – I looked closely at their map with the pink markings on it and burst out laughing.  One of the zones is my old neighbourhood in central Paris!  Other zones are where friends of mine live, also in central Paris.  Gee, I don’t recall being the only non-Muslim living there.  Nor of seeing streets that looked like Baghdad circa 2003.

Prime Minister David Cameron nearly choked on his breakfast porridge after hearing U.S. terror “expert” Steve Emerson claim that Birmingham is also a no-go zone for non-Muslims.

Emerson is a regular contributor to Fox “News”.

Upon reflection, I see that my initial judgment of Fox was correct:  it is a parody.  Of itself.

Paris mayor Anne Hidalgo is taking legal action primarily out of concern for the impact of Fox’s comments on the tourist industry here (yes, sadly there are many Fox viewers in North America who actually believe the right-wing propaganda that is spewed out.)  Paris is the most popular tourist destination in the world (84.7 million foreign tourists in 2013). Tourism accounts for 7.3% of France’s GDP

This week a leading French magazine published a guide of trendy restaurants and boutiques entitled “Our best addresses in the “no-go zones” of Fox News”.

Guide Pratique

Nos meilleures adresses dans les “no-go-zones” de Fox News



Je ne suis pas d’accord avec ce que vous dites, mais je me battrai pour que vous ayez le droit de le dire. 

I do not agree with what you say, but I will fight for your right to say it.



François-Marie Arouet (21 November 1694 – 30 May 1778), known by his nom de plume Voltaire, was a French Enlightenment writer, historian, and philosopher famous for his wit, his attacks on the established Catholic Church, and his advocacy of freedom of religion, freedom of expression and the separation of church and state.

He was an outspoken advocate, despite the risk this placed him in under the strict censorship laws of the time. As a satirical polemicist, he frequently made use of his works to criticize intolerance, religious dogma, and the French institutions of his day.

brand new Charlie cartoons from around the world


This is satire at its best ! (link below)

Egypt, Iran, Tunisia, the U.S.A., France….scroll down.  Some are in English.  The French ones might be hard to understand if you don’t speak French.  But they’re funny !

My favourites are from Mazen Kerbaj – “I think. Therefore I am no longer.”

One from James where a jihadist holding a machine gun says to his killer-friends “Guys! Guys! I’m being threatened by a pencil! What do I do?”

Gilles Rochier – “Will you lend me a pencil?” “Yeah, but be careful. It’s loaded.”

Tine – At the morgue. “What do I put for cause of death…human stupidity? Or caricature?”

And lastly, a very sad one from Julien Sarraute. A postcard with From Paris with Love written on it and addressed to Al Queda in Yemen and elsewhere. “Hey Al, Today we were with all our friends in Paris. It was super.” signed the Charlie Hebdo victims that were savagely gunned down.

Charlie Hebdo will continue to print.  A “survivor” issue comes out next Wednesday.

bonne année !

And the paradox is that despite their reputation for being oftentimes rude or standoffish, the French are actually quite festive and sentimental. Nowhere has this been more apparent than during these past five days – it’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for January 1st to roll around so they can uncharacteristically smile and cry out “Bonne Année!” to one and all.

I’ve just spent these last few days exchanging New Year’s greetings with every living person that has crossed my path. If dogs could speak, we would’ve bid one another a happy and healthy New Year.

“Bonne Année!”

“Meilleurs voeux!”

“Je vous souhaite tous mes meilleurs voeux pour l’année!”

“Bonne Année, Bonne Santé….surtout la Santé!”

It’s nice. Very nice. But I’m exhausted. I’m not used to all this Parisian jollity. It started with neighbours in my building followed by the postman and then the concièrge and then the café owner and his wife on the corner and then the streetsweepers as they stood on the corner knocking back espressos from the café and having a smoke. Even our local homeless person had something salutary to say. And that was just on my way to work. Once at the office, things really heated up.

Meilleurs voeux!” exclaimed my boss, leaping from her chair when I walked in on Monday morning. I stood in the doorway of her office. Was she going to shake my hand or kiss me?  There’s always that awkward moment when you don’t know whether to stick out your hand or proffer your cheek. The best action to take is to just stand there and let them take charge. Thank goodness Parisians only kiss twice, as opposed to three or four like they do in the nether regions of France.

And so it went on for the next two days: email greetings from the CEO and other self-important people, colleagues stopping by my office to declare, somewhat solemnly “Bonjour Juliet. Je te présente tous mes meilleurs vœux de bonheur et de santé pour l’année.“ I was touched. Truly! Chocolates were passed around and much kissing and laughing went on in corridors. A champagne cocktail party for the entire staff has been organized.

It’s funny, this kissing thing. (As I said, in Paris it’s twice, once on each cheek.) Being Anglo-Saxon, as we’re called here, I’ve never been a fan; I prefer a swift, no-nonsense handshake. I’ve just had a thought … maybe it’s me who’s standoffish??

Anyway, the next festivity will be the Galette des Rois or the Cake of Kings, the delicious flaky pie filled with almond paste baked for Epiphany on 6 January. (Epiphany:  the 12th day after Christmas, celebrates the visit of the three kings or wise men to the Christ Child.)