Classic Films · Foreign · Musicals

The Young Girls of Rochefort

If you need a little cinema help to fight the grey skies of winter, then you’ll definitely want to check out this week’s pick, the 1967 French musical The Young Girls of Rochefort (Disc/Download). With a color palette straight out of my fantasies (so much pink!!!!!), fun choreography, and even the inclusion of classic Hollywood musical star Gene Kelly, this confection of a movie will have you longing for French fries, cocktails, and candy-colored days in France.

Starring real-life sisters Catherine Deneuve and Françoise Dorléac as singing twins Delphine and Solange, Jacques Demy’s follow-up to The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is the perfect antidote to that bittersweet tragedy. These girls are fun, carefree, and want nothing more than to go to Paris, fall in love, and pursue their artistic ambitions. Delphine wants to be a dancer, Solange a composer, and unfortunately Rochefort is just too small of a pond. They can’t spend all their days in caftans, gazing out the windows of their pink apartment, lamenting their boredom.  They’ve got to put on matching hats and dresses and get out into the big, bright world! Luckily, Gene Kelly arrives, ready to make Solange’s dreams come true, while Delphine pines for a painter she’s never actually met. Truthfully, this film is full of near misses, right up to the very end. It keeps me yearning for that happy ending, almost as much as I yearn for their wardrobes. And boy, do I yearn.

One of the highlights of this movie, for me, is the twins’ mother’s French fry stand. It sits in the center of the town square, designed with gorgeous Mid-Century Modern details, and by all appearances seems to serve nothing but French fries, coffee, and cocktails. If someone gave me an unlimited amount of money and told me to go make whatever I wanted in the world, I would build an exact replica of this French fry stand. My city would cheer, and I’d be a hero. Unfortunately, I do not have an unlimited budget, so I’ll have to settle for frozen fries and this Gemini Gimlet in my “nice, but not Young Girls of Rochefort Girls nice” Mid-Century Modern home.

Gemini Gimlet

2 oz Pink Gin

1 oz Elderflower Liqueur

½ oz Lime Juice

½ oz Simple Syrup

Lemon Twist

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with a twist of lemon.

You could certainly make this drink with your favorite clear gin, but I think Beefeater’s Pink Strawberry gin gives it a little more of a Demy flair. I could absolutely picture Delphine sipping one of these at an outdoor table while she fends off the advances of traveling carnies and speculates about the town serial killer. Besides, if you’re the kind of person who dreams, wouldn’t you rather do it in color? Cheers!

Classic Films · Holiday Films · Musicals

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

During a recent conversation with a friend, the subject of 1960s Christmas movies came up. Trying to list my favorites, I quickly hit a wall. Seems the 1940s and the 1990s pretty much cornered the market on holiday flicks. Maybe that’s why I wrote such a lengthy Christmas section into my novel Follow the Sun—I wanted to create a stylish world of silver tinsel trees, Shiny Brite ornaments, and elaborate teased updos. A world of Henry Mancini albums on the hi-fi, fondue on the buffet table, and structured Saint Laurent evening gowns. Like my novel, Jacques Demy’s The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Disc/Download) only has a brief stopover at Christmas, but it’s memorable enough for me to consider this a holiday film. And not just any holiday film, but the most glamorous one in existence.

Presented in operatic form, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg has a straightforward (albeit tragic) plot. Geneviève (Catherine Deneuve) and Guy (Nino Castelnuovo) are young, gorgeous, and madly in love. They consummate the relationship shortly before Guy leaves for war, and although Geneviève promises she’ll wait for him, her meddling mother forces her to doubt he’s ever coming back. Pregnant and alone, she marries someone else, leaving the father of her child heartbroken upon his return. Eventually, he moves on too, and years later they share a sad reunion under the backdrop of a snowy gas station. With stunning production design and more color than I’ve ever seen in a movie, Umbrellas manages to make a world papered in pink and orange damask impossibly sad and beautiful. As Catherine Deneueve trudges back to her car on that cold Christmas Eve, your heart just breaks for her. This is the definition of a Blue Christmas.

I covered this movie years ago for Moviejawn with a Crème de Violette cocktail, however this was before Empress 1908 gin came into my life. Distilled with butterfly pea flower, this gin has lately given rise to many colorful cocktail experiments. One of my favorite gin botanicals is cinnamon, so I’ll be using it for a holiday twist on a French ’75. While watching The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, I recommend drinking a Cinnamon ‘75*.

Cinnamon ‘75

1 ½ oz Empress 1908 Gin

¾ oz Lemon Juice

½ oz Cinnamon Syrup

1 tsp. Maple Syrup

Champagne, to top

Cinnamon stick garnish

Combine gin, lemon juice, cinnamon syrup, and maple syrup in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass. Top with champagne, and garnish with a cinnamon stick.

*Recipe adapted from Empress Gin website

I like to think the characters of Follow the Sun would have seen this movie upon its release in 1964, and maybe Caroline, drawn to the emotional music score, would have returned more than once. Perhaps Daphne narrowly missed out on the Catherine Deneuve role because of her lackluster singing voice, and she still holds a grudge against Jacques Demy. Maybe it caused them to realize (as it caused me to realize) that the holidays might be painful as we think about those we’ve loved and lost, but nevertheless, there’s still beauty and glamour all around. Joyeux Noël!

Classic Films · Dramas

Model Shop

Model Shop
Image credit: Model Shop, 1969

When I found out that two of my favorite movies of last year, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and Echo in the Canyon, were reportedly influenced by Jacques Demy’s 1969 film Model Shop (Disc/Download), I needed to see what all the fuss was about. If you’re searching for a slice-of-life ride through ‘60s Los Angeles, look no further than this gorgeous film about love, mortality, and the mistakes of youth.

As the sun rises on a rundown LA bungalow, we meet George Matthews, a former architect at a crossroads in his life. His girlfriend’s got one foot out the door, his car’s about to be repossessed, and he doesn’t know what he wants to do ten minutes from now, let alone ten years. But then he spots a mysterious woman (Anouk Aimée) on the Sunset Strip and follows her up into the hills in his little MG. She goes into a house, he looks out over the city that doesn’t feel like home anymore, then turns around and leaves. But fate forces their paths to cross again, and this time he follows her into a Model Shop.  In this strange make-your-own-porn business that could have only existed in the 1960s, men pay to take pictures of women in their underwear, eventually leaving with negatives and a sweaty brow. For George, this sets off a Before Sunrise-esque 24hr love affair, fueled by the looming threat of a Vietnam draft notice which just arrived in the mail. That’s the thing about the ’60s—things happened fast because they had to.

Even though George’s model strips down for his camera, it isn’t until they’re back at her place that she really starts to reveal herself (a good drink will always get you talking well into the night). Equal parts sweet and bitter, while watching Model Shop, I suggest drinking this Sunset Stripped cocktail.

Sunset Stripped

1 oz Brandy

1 oz Lillet Blanc

¼ oz Honey Syrup (Equal parts honey and water boiled together, then cooled).

Dash of Angostura Bitters

Dash of Orange Bitters

Orange peel or dried orange slice

Combine Brandy, Lillet, honey syrup, and bitters in a shaker with ice. Stir until well chilled, then strain into a tumbler with a fresh cube of ice. Garnish with an orange peel or dried orange slice.

Sunset Stripped

For anyone wanting to see what Los Angeles looked like in the late 1960s, this movie is a perfect time capsule. The cars, the signage, the mini-skirts, the tanned pre-cancerous skin—Model Shop places you right in the center of it all. Sure you could watch someone else’s modern interpretation of this time period, but isn’t it more fun to go straight to the source? Cheers!