Entranced, romantic, utopian, and utterly French, Jacques Demy has always been the most patronized and underappreciated of the major nouvelle vague voices. Nobody's fave among the New Wavers while he was alive, Demy eschewed brooding enigma and ironic realism in favor of a one-way ticket to Happily Ever After. But he was more than a starry-eyed glosser; Demy was aware, as few directors have ever been, about the similarities between Hollywood and life, be they tragic or joyous. It just so happens that Demy loved it all: love affairs begun, ended, betrayed, and crushed by fate; everyday minutiae accumulating into bursts of swoony heartbreak; real oceanside towns envisioned as slices of candy-coated heaven. He was certainly no less conscious of film history and meta-ness than Godard or Rivette, but Demy became the movement's balladeer rather than another surgeon, and so his films were consumed and enjoyed like mousse and dismissed as insubstantial... More >>>