La Vie en Rose - Forgotten Books
The problem with all the critics is and must be that they take their specialised medium too seriously and assess it as if it has profound aims and objectives which it couldn't possibly have. Films are visual; they do propaganda and emotion; they do not do history and philosophy. You should no more go to La Vie to learn about Piaf than you should go to Macbeth to mug up for your Scottish history ordinaries (or whatever they now call them). But the film might inspire you to read. I will forego the obvious conclusion to this argument which is that there should be no specialist critics, but only one all-purpose critic of everything and his name should be . . . .
The last fifteen minutes of La Vie are a collage of incidents from Piaf's life which culminate in the poor old crone - she is forty-something, but looks eighty - staggering on stage to belt out what, under the circumstances, must be the daftest sentiments anyone has ever belted out. But this is not logic or moral philosophy; it is cinema and popular music. And it is magnificent! Make sure that you see it.
La Vie en Rose 4 Janvier, 1903 by E ..
Eustacia Vie is on more then one occasion compared to classical characters of Greek mythology, and even in her death the nobility of her figure evokes images of classical sculpture."Pallor did not include all the quality of her complexion, which seemed More the whiteness; it was almost light.
It is a special day. It is the birthday of a dear friend of mine. Among many things, such as roses, all garden and wild-flowers, herbs, rain and sunshine, she enjoys a brilliant, well-coordinated, smoothly orchestrated performance and successfully demonstrated precision in the type of collaboration that only can be delivered through exacting and accurate teamwork. I was honored to enjoy an intimate family celebration in an iconic and charming seafood restaurant called in the 12 arrondissement. I offered my discoveries to my friend on this beautiful, beautiful day as I experienced it with sunshine, rain, flower gardens and roses while I was on my way to celebrate.
УралЭнергоПром - Челябинск - Ma Vie En Rose Essays
Ma Vie en Rose is excellent cinema. I'd love every trans-kid inAustralia to see this movie; just so they can learn they are not alone... and that loneliness can be overwhelming. Unfortunately it will probablyhave rather limited distribution because it is in French and becausethe ideas could "corrupt young minds". I recommend this film to alltransgendered, all their friends, workmates and lovers and all healthworkers who work with kids with gender issues.
Remember the good old song “La Vie en Rose” by Edith Piath
Ludo keeps dressing as a girl and he's been told not to. "You will beun garcon tout la vie! .... un garcon tout la vie!". Those words rangin my head. I must have stopped reading the subtitles. It seemed socruel ... "a boy forever!". I started trying to encourage him again"Don't believe them! You can be a girl if you really want to. When Iwas seven, my mum told me, I could never be a girl and I proved herwrong". Ludo rebelled and tried to prove they had made a mistake;someone had lost one of his X-chromosomes; he was really a girlboy;his stomach aches were the onset of periods. I kept waiting forpuberty when my breasts would sprout and everyone would realise theyhad made a mistake, I was so depressed when the wrong pubertyhappened.
of Ludo in Alain Berliner's film "Ma Vie en Rose"
La môme - La vie en rose (Canadienne)
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What is the best English translation for "la vie en rose?"
I have not detailed many of the film's twists and turns because they are all predictable yet, to the best of our knowledge, quite accurate. Given filmmakers' tendencies to romanticize and re-imagine their subjects' existence, one shudders to think of the misery and suffering that Piaf actually endured in her brief years, addled as she was by both fame and the contents of its barroom. That said, the real reason to see the film, apart from the music that may or may not have been part of your youth (it was certainly part of mine), is Cotillard. Thanks to skill, a constellation of genetic similarities, and clever cinematography, she transforms her very pretty self into the miniature cannonball that was Piaf with nary a seam or thread showing. The performance is extraordinary and utterly unexpected by us ignorant cinéastes who had only seen her work in some rather mediocre French films – the less said about them the better – and of a book about southern France, its vineyards, and what can happen to people who actually take time to smell the roses. That's why "life through rose-colored glasses" (the English title and trademark song by Piaf) had as little to do with Piaf's life as the sentimental sweetness of her tunes has to do with many facets of our modern existence. But for a while, and perhaps longer, we can be convinced otherwise. There's nothing inherently wrong with that.