#dita parlo
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
davidhudson · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Dita Parlo, September 4, 1908 – December 12, 1971.
Jean Vigo’s L’Atalante (1934).
11 notes · View notes
postcard-from-the-past · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
German film actress Dita Parlo on a vintage postcard
15 notes · View notes
oldfilmsflicker · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Au Bonheur des Dames, 1930 (dir. Julien Duvivier)
112 notes · View notes
scenephile · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Don't you know you can see your beloved's face in the water?
12 notes · View notes
anamon-book · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
アタラント号 ジャン・ヴィゴ監督作品 KUZUIエンタープライズ
19 notes · View notes
erstwhile-punk-guerito · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
theageofthemovies · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Jean Vigo and Dita Parlo on the set of “L’Atalante”, 1934.
r.m.
10 notes · View notes
likeitovich · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Grand Illusion by Jean Renoir (1937)
5 notes · View notes
letterboxd-loggd · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
L'Atalante (1934) Jean Vigo
June 24th 2023
4 notes · View notes
byneddiedingo · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Dita Parlo and Jean Dasté in L'Atalante (Jean Vigo, 1934)
Cast: Dita Parlo, Jean Dasté, Michel Simon, Gilles Margaritis, Louis Lefebvre, Maurice Gilles, Raphaël Diligent. Screenplay: Jean Guinet, Albert Riéra, Jean Vigo. Cinematography: Boris Kaufman. Art direction: Francis Jourdan. Film editing: Louis Chavance. Music: Maurice Jaubert. 
L'Atalante is one of those near-universally acclaimed film masterpieces that failed theatrically on their first release and were rediscovered and re-evaluated more than a decade later. But it's also one of those films that young contemporary movie lovers may not "get" on first viewing today. I remember my own reaction to films like The Rules of the Game (Jean Renoir, 1939) and L'Avventura (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960), movies that didn't fit what I expected from being raised on energetic, plot-driven, star-centered American movies. Melancholy and irony are not widely praised American values, although lord knows we have plenty of it in the best American literature. They surfaced for a time in the best American films of the 1970s, but have been driven back into the underground by the blockbuster mentality. There was a time, even after the great cinematic awakening of the '70s when I found myself resenting film critics for their inability to appreciate popular movies I liked: "Critics see too many movies to enjoy them," I sniffed. But the truth is, the more movies you see, the more you're able to appreciate those that don't walk the line, that don't instantly gratify the hunger for plot resolution, for spectacle, for something that sends you out of the theater blissfully untroubled by thought. L'Atalante confused and bored its contemporary viewers, but today those of us who love it do so because it seems to us alternately tender and brutal, simultaneously comic and touching, and, taken as a whole, one of the few movies that successfully transport us to a time and place and a company of human beings we have never found ourselves in the middle of before. It is also, despite years of mishandling and cutting and botched attempts at restoration, one of the most technically dazzling films ever made. The performances -- by Michel Simon as the rather gross Père Jules, Dita Parlo and Jean Dasté as the young couple trying to start married life on a cramped river barge, and Gilles Margaritis as the madcap peddler who almost wrecks their marriage -- are extraordinary. Cinematographer Boris Kaufman overcame the severe limitations of filming scenes in the cramped quarters below-decks as well as open-air scenes for which the weather refused to cooperate. Vigo and Kaufman stage visual compositions that have a freshness that never seems arty. And who can ever forget Simon's Père Jules clambering aboard the barge with a kitten on his shoulders? Every corner of L'Atalante is filled with life.
2 notes · View notes
davidhudson · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Dita Parlo, September 4, 1908 – December 12, 1971.
With Pierre Alcover in André Hugon’s La rue sans joie (1938).
4 notes · View notes
postcard-from-the-past · 11 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
German film actress Dita Parlo on a vintage postcard
5 notes · View notes
oldfilmsflicker · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Au Bonheur des Dames, 1930 (dir. Julien Duvivier)
57 notes · View notes
celluloidchronicles · 6 months ago
Text
L'Atalante
Tumblr media
🇫🇷 | Apr 24, 1934
directed by Jean Vigo
screenplay by Albert Riéra, Jean Guinée, Jean Vigo
produced by Jean-Louis Nounez
starring Michel Simon, Dita Parlo, Jean Dasté, Gilles Margaritis, Louis Lefebvre
1h29 | Drama, Romance, Comedy
𐄂 not watched
Browse through collections
French Movies | director Jean Vigo | writer Albert Riéra | writer Jean Guinée | writer Jean Vigo | studio  Jean-Louis Nounez | actor  Michel Simon | actress Dita Parlo | actor Jean Dasté | actor Gilles Margaritis | actor Louis Lefebvre | The Complete Jean Vigo
Browse through genres
Drama | Romance | Comedy
Links
trakt.tv | letterboxd
0 notes
mtonino · 30 days ago
Photo
L'Atalante (1934) Jean Vigo
Tumblr media
Dita Parlo - Jean Vigo - source: bizarrela.com
46 notes · View notes
volevoimparareavolare · 6 months ago
Note
raccontaci della tua relazione? è lo stesso ragazzo di anni fa?
Purtroppo, dopo 7 anni, la nostra relazione è finita, e noi con lei. Ne siamo usciti entrambi distrutti. É un argomento che mi riempie di lacrime lo sguardo e mi fa tremare le dita sulla tastiera al solo pensiero.
Sarà una ferita aperta per entrambi che continuerà a sanguinare, anche sotto strati e strati di tempo. Ci sono tanti modi per concludere qualcosa che si coltiva con infinito amore, e noi abbiamo scelto il peggiore. Abbiamo scelto di rendere gli ultimi mesi un inferno per entrambi.
E adesso i fantasmi di quel periodo vivono in noi, nutrono le nostre angosce, ci tormentano la notte, ci strisciano sulle ossa riempiendoci di brividi durante il giorno, e non ci danno tregua.
Per molto tempo, è stato difficile svegliarsi. Perché gli incubi iniziavano appena aprivo gli occhi e mi ritrovavo faccia a faccia con la realtà.
Ogni ricordo, lo tengo per me. Lo custodisco gelosamente, temendo che condividendolo si spezzi, si logori, si consumi. Ma non è il solo motivo per cui non ne parlo; semplicemente, non ci riesco. É come un trauma, e doverne parlare, parlare di tutto ciò che siamo stati, mi costringerebbe a rivivere certi momenti, certe sensazioni, e io non sono ancora pronta. Forse non lo sarò mai.
Noi siamo stati il primo amore l’uno dell’altra. E lo siamo stati per anni. Con tutte le cose meravigliose e terribili che questo implica. Pensavo davvero che saremo stati “noi” per sempre. Ma tante cose non andavano, tanti problemi si affollavano senza che noi gli prestassimo la giusta attenzione per risolverli, tante cose sbiadirono nell’abitudine e tante incomprensioni contribuirono a dividerci, almeno in parte.
So che per i lettori e le lettrici del mio blog, che mi seguono da anni, lo smettere all’improvviso dei miei scritti sull’amore, delle nostre foto assieme, e delle frasi stupende che lui mi diceva… possa essere sembrato repentino, come un taglio netto con lascia. Come un trauma. Ma io non sono riuscita a viverlo in nessun altro modo.
29 notes · View notes