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‘Style Saturdays’ - juxtaposition between monochrome and colour is ultimately mesmerising and dream like - is intended to create a sense of what we're calling 'male hysteria’ - the descent into madness. 

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Le Souffle Au Coeur

I, like many, am a sucker for a coming-of-age story. I've found in a lot of cases that the genre provides themes that are charming, relatable and so twee that they actually make you feel a little bit sick but in a good way? And yes, I'm totally looking at you Wes Anderson. In my eyes there also tends to be an awful lot of time and effort put into establishing characters, relationships and emotionally suffocating cold-hearted people, like myself with sentimental moments and feelings that are supposed to resonate with our own lives thus insuring our investment in the plot developments. Now, don't get me wrong folks, I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with teenagers falling in love, doing some ketamine, regretting it ('REGRETAMINE' as my dear friend would say)  then going on their merry way, procuring jobs and all that grown up shit but you can't tell me it's not something you've seen before - over and over again. I feel it happens so much so that the experiences seem to merge together making it difficult to pick out the defining qualities that set them apart from one another. If you're suffering from this affliction too then look no further, I have found the cure, and it is Louis Malle's 'Le Souffle Au Coeur' I say wholeheartedly and with the utmost sincerity, I fucking loved this film. I think if I were still a 14 year old girl, which at times, I probably am, except I bloody love gin...anyway, Laurent Chevalier would be the man I planned to marry in later life. I'd write my name on my diary with his surname and everything. Laurent (Benoit Ferreux) is the antithesis of any expectation you might have of a of pre-pubescent Hollywood movie teen that is affected merely by a change in washing up liquid, let alone an alarmingly suffocating and intimate relationship with a parent. Through-out the beautifully simplistic narrative he remains unfazed and unscathed by every single 'maturing event' life throws at him, ranging from underage sex/drinking/smoking to a nail-bitingly close escape from a particularly 'handsy' priest. Each one of these things seems to go over this young gents head rather than painfully slowly 'maturing' him by subjecting him to the tolls of life. He almost comes across as not needing to mature due to the fact that he is clearly a deep thinking, high achiever. At 14, whilst I was reading Jacqueline Wilson books about my emotions and periods whilst being told by S Club 7 to 'Hold your head high and reach the top' -This boy appears to be indulging in world class jazz and absorbing the intelligence of great philosophers and literary figures. It seems that things like loosing your virginity and tasting alcohol for the first time - many of which are things that bare great importance in the lives of young people and are considered a must - to this character, they just simply happen. He doesn't particularly need them to happen, or chase after them with great desire as is arguably noticeable in his two brothers, who happen to be less academically inclined. Lets just say, to put it simply, this guy goes with the flow, and that is for sho' (Yeah, real smooth Ellie, real smooth!) 

There are a lot of potentially harmful aspects to the behaviour Laurent is both subjected to and part takes in. The relationship between himself and his mother Clara (Lea Massari) is one that walks an increasingly dangerous borderline that questions how much love there can be between a mother and a child. I mean, incest is never really a narrative road gone down with great speed, but I think this is where Malle's genius really excels. The film is charged with the sort of debauchery you learn to expect of young men as they bolt from boy-hood to man-hood, but instead of looking at some drop-dead gorgeous French teenage girl, our eyes are drawn to Clara, the boys mother, as the love interest. Weird right? I know, It sounds so unsettling, but there is nothing seedy about this film at all, it is a marvel. Innocent through-out and almost admirable in the amount of love that is shown. Louis Malle manages to maintain normality and make it seem that some things that are so controversial should occur so naturally in a state of hazy drunkness on the celebratory Bastille day. It's something that can't even be portrayed in words because no matter how you put it, the subject matter is tricky, but if you watch it, you will see what I mean.

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I started writing this the day Robin Williams passed away but couldn't really find the words to finish it, I considered not posting anything at all but I thought, if I have something to say, I should. So basically if there are any tense issues, thats why. I hope some of this resonates with you. 

Well, as the wave of realisation washes over the world we are all learning that a brilliant man whom there really are not enough positive adjectives to describe, has passed away. 

I don't wish to speculate and discuss the cause of his death, or the emotional pain that casts such a destructive cloud over many peoples lives, all I want to show is mass respect for this incredible human being and the endless laughter, bittersweet pain and just sheer genius he's personally brought into my home. 

So, it was around 11.30pm that I was, as is the bed time ritual for many of us now, scrolling down my Instagram feed before bed to fuel the need to know what publishable events, or attempts at vanity my friends had indulged in since I looked about 20 minutes ago - a particular obsession and increasing nosiness the human race has evolved - when I see a black and white picture of Robin Williams with the caption RIP. 'What?' That instant gut reaction we all have when faced with bad news. You've heard or read exactly right, but still you question..'What?' and I read a couple of 'BREAKING NEWS' articles to get a picture of which direction the media would be going with it to find, as always, the perverse truth of how much attention lies in the 'cause of death' when it comes down to the reports. As you can imagine, I turned away from that pretty quickly and as I did my mind started to wander and access parts of my memory that, in sad times like these, race into the forefront of your mind. I started thinking about all the times i've seen Robin Williams on screen and some provided me with a tiny little sub-memory, some personal, some stupid but all little parts of my life and as a cause of this and I'd like to share a couple of them, if I may? 

I was born in 1993, so for me, it was 'Aladdin' - That was my first encounter with Robin Williams. The Genie in the Lamp. Who could forget him? Many of us, as children are real Disney nuts, I loved it then and I love it now. I still watch Disney to this day when successfully hacking into my ex boyfriends Netflix account. My little brother is 8 now and he's not into them so much, which is sad, but hey, developing world and all. I remember Aladdin so fondly as it brings to mind the song 'You Ain't Never Had a Friend Like Me' - I mention this because I'm sure you'll all remember that before all Disney videos began there was a series of pre-ads for future and current features. On the video for Aladdin one of the adverts was about the making of Aladdin and it showed Robin Williams in the studio singing, acting, entertaining and I remembered the initial register of putting a face to a voice at a young age - 'THATS THE GENIE'. His voice is one that will resonate with so many people of all ages like Tom Hanks as Woody in Toy Story, when you hear these voices as a child, they remain sentimental to you through-out your life. 

Anyway, speaking of my little brother again, like I said, he's 8 now but when he was but a tiny little sprog in his mothers arms I remember the endless cooing and accentuating of every single word to try and mould his little brain and teach him to communicate. HOWEVER and i'm not sure how this came to be, or why but, whenever you put your finger towards him and said 'Nanu Nanu' he'd press his finger against yours. It was the darndest thing, but just another way Robin Williams actively played a part in peoples lives. 

It's a strange and bizarre feeling to know he's gone and we'll never see him be the energetic, fun, joy giving man he evidently was, but what we must never forget, and this counts for everyone is that he was here. He made those films that gave us such happiness, and he will be remembered for doing just that. Thank you Robin Williams. 

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I'm never quick enough to keep up with these special days in which we celebrate things. I think my mam and dad have stopped expecting things from me on their celebratory 'days' - However, something has entered my world today like a FURBALL of fuzzy feelings.  ITS WORLD CAT DAY AND I FREAKIN' LOVE CATS. 

Big cats, small cats, fluffy cats, bald cats...(Actually, I could do without the bald cats- but nevertheless..) I love cats. I have four and honestly, I think they are selfish arseholes but whenever I visit home, I allocate at least an hour of time before my train back to London to just stare at my cats with adoration and pretend they are sad to see me go. I'm a big advocate for the felines of the world. Let's celebrate our four legged friends! But if I say 'OH MY GOD ITS SO BLOODY FLUFFY. I WANT ONE' one more time then I think its fair to say things have gone too far and its time for this day to end.  

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The first combination of soundtrack and scene I have posted. When we were writing our essays for this film I used to bounce around to this song in a 100%  successful attempt at procrastination. If you didn't know already, the person singing the song is indeed, our delightful little pixie, Faye Wong and it is a cover of a well known Cranberries song - personally, I prefer this one. 

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It’s such a task picking out stills from this film because it is, without a doubt, one of the most aesthetically pleasing and beautiful things I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching. If I could include the whole film here - I tell you now, I TOTALLY WOULD, but I can’t…copyright and that. Just watch it man and if you have - agree with me..or don’t..but if you don̵t…then…why? Why don’t you love Christopher Doyle’s cinematography like I do?

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CHUNGKING EXPRESS

I’m still in France but I felt so bad about not writing anything that i’ve decided to make an internal compromise. There happens to be a couple of films in the Criterion Collection that I have actually already seen before, I know right? Who’d have thunk it. Wong Kar Wai’s beautiful piece of New wave cinema ‘Chungking Express’ happens to be in that little pile of films i’ve had the pleasure of already watching. 

So, picture this, a lazy 18 year old girl who barely ever attended her a-level year of school (bad ass alert) rolling into college 20 minutes late for her Film Studies class to find the room pitch black - at this point she remembers, its the two hour session, were watching a film, RESULT. After a stern look from her teacher -  that she is fully aware communicates a “You’re getting bollocked after this lesson for your lack of shits given in regards to the college rules and time constraints” the girl sits down, asks her friend what were watching and hears the words “Chungking Express” - If it’s not quite clear, I am talking about myself here. 

Moving swiftly on from that rare attempt at scene setting, you’d better not be laughing, I gave it a go didn’t I?! Anyway, the first time I saw it, I will happily admit, I didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on but as it was my A-Level text I had to go through a few times which really opened up the fragmented wonderland that makes this film so great. The viewing and reception you will have of this film makes up an engaging emotional process. You’re confused and distressed by the disjointed narrative - you were just getting into the amazing Brigitte Lin, femme fatale thing because she’s so awesome and mysterious when SNAP there goes Brigitte, here comes FAYE WONG. The narrative is a growing entity of quirky, infectious delight. It’s heartbreak, its new love found, its just bloody everything and I adore it. Sometimes it’s best to have no rules - I’m imagining a jigsaw, so precisely fit together but when completed, the final image makes little sense and couldn’t fit together less? It’s difficult to explain and I think Wong Kar Wai meant it that way. In a review I saw online in The Seattle Times, a writer called Jeff Shannon described what I’m trying to say perfectly;  "I never knew where the movie was going, but I knew that I wanted to go there"  This film played such a big part in my interest in film now, true story!

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FORGIVE ME DIVINE FOR I HAVE SINNED. IT HAS BEEN 26 DAYS SINCE I LAST BLOGGED FROM THE CRITERION COLLECTION. 

Anyway, Alreet folks? So basically, I'm currently, and have been residing in a lovely place in France called Beaumont-De-Lomagne for the last week and a half and in an attempt to tan my unimaginably pale skin I have been mostly outside, thus entirely avoiding watching any films. I feel dirty just saying it. I've well and truly abandoned my post. However, I am having a lovely time. I've created a chillingly lifelike recreation of Pompeii entirely made of sand and then had to face the despair of my younger brother shoving his foot in it, but because i'm the elder, I have to be totally cool about it, when what I wanted to do was shove his face in it. I'm a women of little talents, but I take great pride in my sand sculptures. IT HAD LITTLE PEOPLE RUNNING FROM THE LAVA...FOR EFFECT. Not that I'm lingering on the incident or anything... But anyway. I've seen some beautiful little towns, and entertained myself in the children's part of a 'Fete Du Vin' with glittery transfer tattoos. My life is just pretty wild at the moment so I haven't had much time to watch any films. Even at this moment, the devil child I call my younger sibling, is sitting over my shoulder saying 'Get off rumbles and lets go swimming!"  - So I'd better go. He is the boss after all, little does he know, I'm quietly plotting my revenge. 

I'll be back on schedule with my criterion project soon. I've prepared the following, so expect a MAHOOSIVE hoard:

'The 400 Blows', Francois Truffaut (1959)

'Sedmikrasky' (Daisies), Vera Chytilova (1966)

'49th Parallel', Michael Powell (1941)

'Alphaville', Jean-Luc Godard (1965)

'Le Souffle au Coeur' (Murmur of the Heart), Louis Malle, (1971)

'All That Jazz', Bob Fosse (1979) 

If anybody has any suggestions of where to start off again i'd be delighted to hear them? But my gut is saying go with Malle, Godard or Truffaut. I have been in France for a fortnight.. seems only fair. Anyway, I promise to get on with it, and yes, I do realise nobody reads this, the promise is to myself, okay. THANKS BYE. LOVE YOU (me) 

PS. If you want to check out any of my developing Holiday snaps, feel free to head over to my flickr (https://www.flickr.com/photos/mary-ellen/) and check them out. Ta very much chummys. 

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YES YES YES YES YES. 

AND ONCE AGAIN, YES. 

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I seem to be having a bit of a Musical appreciation day today. I've just suitably nailed both parts of the 'Elephant Love Medley' from Moulin Rouge and now moved onto my favourite track from Grease. Betty Rizzo is one of my favourite female characters. I wouldnt say top 5 or 10 but definitely top 20. She's such a misunderstood character, everyone always shoots for Sandy as the obvious protagonist or Frenchy because she gets to have pink hair but if you just stop for a minute and look at Rizzo, she's got a lot of depth to her. Its easy to say yes, she's jealous and vindictive but really, she's just a bit sad. She's not the smart, beautiful all-rounder like Sandy, the mad academic like Patty Simcox, she doesn't have loads of boyfriends like Marty or get to be as 'universally' pretty as Frenchy...I'm not sure where Jan fits in here, but anyway. She only has Kenickie who doesn't really appreciate her - she's always just second best to somebody else and that would get to anyone. What makes her stand out? Give her the time of day next time you have your annual screening of Grease and you'll see what I see. 

ALSO if I was her I would have totally punched Patty Simcox in her smug little face. 

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When you put your heart and genitals into something, it always becomes personal - Maximo Espejo (Tie me up! Tie me down!)

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  Here are some delightful behind-the-scenes photographs…

It's raining in England. Pathetic fallacy insists my mood should be as grey as the weather HOWEVER I have been fuelled with an unending and immense joy. In some crevice of the world someone has been harbouring a few absolutely delightful behind the scenes images from Hal Ashby's absolutely stunning "Harold and Maude"  - A film which, if somebody held a gun to my head and made me tell them my favourite film - a little dramatic maybe but they really want to know the answer, I would say this film. 

I've extensively looked into having images from the film blown up for my bedroom wall so i've seen pretty much all the internet has to offer but these little beauties took me happily by surprise. It's a good day and I think everyone should see these. 

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It appears I’ve gone slightly off the radar and I feel deep guilt. As soon as I plan to take on a project I’ve suddenly got no time to do it. That is the way of life.

However, I do completely intend to continue. I've found that it’s actually delightfully therapeutic to have daily rhetorical conversations with myself - and if you find yourself stumbling across them…run away now.

(Ps/note to self - I’ve fallen in love with a young Terry Jones. Anybody who looks like the fella’ on the right - hello, let’s get married, maybe have some babies, you know? the usual)

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(Hi, this is me by the way, the lady with two faces that sits behind this computer articulating nonsense! Nice to meet you! I don't even particularly know why i'm indulging in this anyway, sometimes its nice to put a face to a name, even if it is distorted. Imagine going through the WHOLE 'Phantom of the Opera' without seeing him, that would be awful. So yes, it seems today I am comparing myself to the Phantom. Not sure i've got the vocal skill though!)  Anyway, I think the taking and editing of this picture is screaming out that tonight I want to watch something in colour. Don't get me wrong, I'm a massive fan of the black and white picture. Heck, my attempt at summer clothes is a culmination of black and grey. I'm basically a goth but sometimes I just need colour in my life. I'm thinking maybe Robert Altman's "3 Women" so I can stare at that 70s babe Sissy Spacek for a while but not in 'Carrie' ..I don't really feel like scaring myself shitless tonight. Thanks but no thanks Sissy. Turn that terrifying, telekinetic, mental frown upside down. 

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Beautiful, mysterious woman pursued by gunmen. Sounds like a spy story. - Richard Hannay

'The 39 Steps', Alfred Hitchcock, 1935.