Paris was my home from 1982-1986. Two of those years were spent on Impasse Dantzig. My 16 year-old girlfriend had an atelier in an old artist commune on Impasse Dantzig. Candida worked as a model. A few magazines liked the melange of her Puerto Rican, Jewish, and French roots. I thought she was beautiful.
We went to parties, restaurants, and movies, but she would never bother to see any films about World War II.
“That war will never end.”
And Hollywood seems devoted to making her words come true, although the film THE GOOD GERMAN takes place after the Fall of Berlin.
The blurb on the DVD covers promises a tale harkening back to THE THIRD MAN, unfortunately the director Steve Soderbergh paints the post-war chaos with a stilted predictability. Toby Maguire re-animates Orson Welles’ role of Harry Lime, however the young man doesn’t have the weight of character or body to pull off the act.
Some idiot casting director had the bad sense to plop Cate Blanchett as a world-weary whore, instead of a real German actress. Sex with her? Not a chance, unless of course she was in the room now and then my no might be a maybe.
When George Clooney mimics Rick from CASABLANCA in his chance meeting with his old love, I shut off the TV. End of movie. End of story. End of WWII.
Candida would have approved of my finger hitting the OFF button.
They were no good Germans.
Only people living their lives in bad times as best they could and sometimes that wasn’t very good.
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