MOVIE REVIEW : Lasting Ode to Art, Romance, Spirit of France

“Children of Paradise,” Marcel Carne’s 1945 tribute to love and loss in Paris during the 1840s, is revered by the French: Some even have described it as the cinematic equivalent of their anthem, the “Marseillaise.”

Besides reflecting French ideals of romance and art, “Children of Paradise” (being shown tonight at Golden West College) has a historic significance that speaks directly to French patriotism. Made during World War II when France was occupied by the Nazis, the movie was seen then, and still can be seen, as an ode to creative freedom.

Its metaphors may not be obvious, but it’s good to know that the French found subtle denunciations of German oppression in a few of the characters, from the amoral criminal Lacenaire (a coiled spring of danger as played by Marcel Herrand) to the perverse street cops always watching and interrogating.

Because of this, “Children of Paradise’s” lyricism has a serrated edge. But more than anything, this novelistic, handsome, picturesque and witty movie captures a sweep of life’s experiences that met the French’s need for vitality at a time when it was in short supply.

Three years in the making (many of the actors belonged to the French resistance and weren’t always available) and running more than three hours, “Children of Paradise” follows a handful of characters over several years, closely observing their little tragedies and triumphs.

The setting is Paris in the day of Victor Hugo, in particular the Boulevard du Temple where street performers mixed with pickpockets and killers. The movie opens with a vivid scene of the boulevard crowded with jugglers, mimes, pretty actresses, monkeys on stilts. . . .

Most of the action lingers on Baptiste (Jean-Louis Barrault), the star of the Funambules mime theater, who is in love with Garance (Arletty), a mysterious actress we first encounter as “Truth” in a sideshow, submerged to her lovely shoulders in a tub as men come by just to stare. She’s also pursued by the dandy actor Frederick (Pierre Brasseu) and, later, by the aristocrat Count de Montray (Louis Salou). Her dubious companion Lacenaire lurks about.

While the look of “Children of Paradise,” with its dark interiors and throngs of poor, is Dickensian, the storytelling is more like Flaubert. Jacques Prevert’s screenplay and Carne’s direction tried to balance morality and sentiment in just about every frame, which can leave a heaviness.

But they also had the good sense to buoy their work with humor. In one scene, the only witness to a crime is Baptiste, who naturally answers police questioning in mime. In another, a blind man tells Baptiste that mime is his favorite art, as long as a friend keeps “explaining it to him.” The time in the Funambules, with its colorful characters and worried manager, is hilarious. And Frederick, played as the king of fops by the animated Brasseur, is an amusing gasbag.

The most enthralling moments are left for Arletty’s Garance. Although the sad-faced Barrault, an accomplished mime himself, invariably was the favored star, it’s Arletty and her enigmatic beauty that give “Children of Paradise” its radiance.