I was in the land of the moon and I’ve come back, and here you are and you are life.
Erich Maria Remarque, Arch of Triumph (tr. by Walter Sorell & Denver Lindley), 1945
1K notes
·
View notes
Ingrid Bergman in a dramatic scene from Arch of Triumph, Hollywood, 1946 | Robert Capa
316 notes
·
View notes
As Joan Madou in "Arch of Triumph, 1948.
46 notes
·
View notes
We have our dreams because without them we could not bear the truth.
Erich Maria Remarque, Arch of Triumph (tr. by Walter Sorell & Denver Lindley), 1945
528 notes
·
View notes
I’ve been trying to find Arch of Triumph for years, and last night I finally discovered that it was available on Plex. And now I wish I’d seen it much sooner; it was that good. Like a gritty Casablanca, it possesses a raw nerve you’re more likely to find in Italian neorealism than in most Hollywood movies (although it does delve into melodrama at the end.) In that same vein, it’s visually pretty stark (parts of it were filmed in Paris only a few years after WWII) and is somehow able to get away with mature subjects that usually would have been toned down by the Hays Code.
Ingrid Bergman is amazing as always (it’s an underrated performance from one of the greatest film actresses ever), but I was quite frankly amazed by Charles Boyer. I’ve always liked Boyer, but I really think this was his best performance (or at least on a par with Gaslight, a very different role.) Sometimes, with a small physical gesture, an actor can absolutely break your heart. I didn’t think the suave, collected Boyer (Hollywood’s resident Frenchman) would ever accomplish that, but he does in this movie.
(I almost forgot to mention that Charles Laughton plays a Nazi officer in this movie—he only has a few scenes, but they’re all showcases for his undeniable talent. His first conversation with Boyer is amazing)
The print I watched was admittedly not good (that’s probably why it was streaming for free.) this movie really needs the Criterion treatment—clean it up a little, maybe include extra scenes from the 4-hour rough cut—and a larger audience (it bombed when it was released in 1948.) Hear that, Criterion? Make it so.
4 notes
·
View notes