After living in Paris for a year in my mid twenties, I still have a piece of my heart there. Whenever there’s been an opportunity to return, somehow a detour gets thrown and the trip is postponed. Perhaps it was my age, perhaps the buildings, or perhaps even the magic of the night, but even after so many years I can still quote Hemingway, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”
So this morning for breakfast when I met an old friend who’s a filmmaker, he was asking about our Carnival show and I was explaining that it has a nostalgic feel. Susan and I love the the turn of the century aesthetic and are trying to create that undercurrent in our show. Upon listening to my description, he highly suggested that I needed to see the new Woodie Allen film Midnight in Paris so a few hours later I rushed off and watched it on one of the big screen theaters in LA.
It was lovely. It was fun, it was silly, it was romantic, it was nostalgic, it was touching, it was magical. I just loved the sweetness of visiting the famous heroic characters and although most were fabulous, a few also had a tongue-in-cheek sensibility which only enticed you to further play along. I loved the streets, the rain, the locations, the music, the make believe.
The movie also had overtones of place and belonging, appreciation and wanting, with a pinch of Dorothy clicking her ruby slippers and when the movie was almost over, I sure didn’t want to go home. I wanted to stay in those comfy reclining seats in front of the big beautiful screen and not leave. I wanted to keep playing along, reminiscing, fantasizing.
Today I went to Paris and had a lovely time.