This French classic is one of the top ten movies that critics like to say is one of their top ten movies. Its length—a little over three friggin’ frackin’ hours—is intimidating, but its actual story really isn’t. It’s simple as can be, actually (not a bad thing). In 19th century Paris, there’s a woman (36 year old raven-haired Arletty) and four very different men who are in some state of infatuation with her. She brings out the vulnerable side of them all, but the one who’s most torn up over her is Baptiste (Jean-Louis Barrault), celebrated mime and all-around sensitive guy. She loves him, too, but due to turns of fate that throw these characters around like so many rag dolls, they never can quite get together. The movie’s three hours long because everyone’s French and poetic about everything.
It’s an achingly romantic and essential film, but the most extraordinary thing about it is the story of its making. It was shot during the German occupation of France during World War II, often in secret and with participants in the French resistance working as extras. The whole film is kind of a subtle celebration of French identity. Its most likable characters are criminals and artists who have no respect for authority and who, like the filmmakers themselves, subvert it at every opportunity. The most memorable example of that here is a great scene where Pierre Brasseur, playing a bulldozingly charming actor, gets hired on to star in a hack play and then proceeds to destroy it onstage, turning it into a improvised comedy, while the writer and producers fume at the inspired mess he’s made.