Music and Lyrics

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 22:55:00 +0100

Ah lalalala, on s'y laisse prendre encore une fois! Une bonne comédie qui ne tombe pas dans le cliché fadasse de l'histoire d'amour-guimauve...un vrai duo de personnages!

Lui : ne ressemble pas aux goujats habituels qui se révèlent être le prince-charmant en fin de film...NATUREL!

Elle : ne ressemble pas aux princesses dans leur tour de château attendant d'être délivrée des griffes du méchant dragon...NORMALE!

On s'amuse, on rit de bon coeur...ça fait plaisir quoi! Surtout après avoir vu ce morceau d'anthologie...(attention SPOILER!)

Dreamgirls have guts

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 22:40:00 +0100

Ca donne envie de chanter de tout son soûl...une épopée musicale jusqu'aux rivages du Disco! Pas un film, pas une histoire, un véritable multiple-women show!

A voir pour la bande son qui prend aux tripes!

Bobby

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Sun, 11 Feb 2007 22:10:00 +0100

Film paillettes pour grande cause. On y retrouve une palette (déliiiire) d'acteurs rejouant la nuit où fut assassiné Robert Francis Kennedy.

Voilà un vrai leader qui par ses idées, complétement fondées, avait rassemblé autour de lui -c'est ce qui manque de nos jours : des leaders légitimes-...il n'était point un précurseur, juste un témoin de son temps. Il prouve aujourd'hui que l'histoire ne fait que se répéter sans forcément prendre en compte les erreurs du passé. Même si certaines choses semblent avancer, la folie meurtrière des hommes reste toujours d'actualité...

Le discours qui suit est trop méconnu sous nos longitudes...

On the Mindless Menace of Violence

City Club of Cleveland, Cleveland, Ohio
April 5, 1968

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs."

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.

Palais Royal

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Mon, 02 Jan 2006 21:45:41 +0100

RAS à part la seule scène du film qui ait échappé aux previews : celle de Lambert Wilson dansant sur "Amoureux de ma femme" de Richard Anthony...tout simplement "dansant"!

Esprit de famille

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Mon, 02 Jan 2006 21:41:01 +0100

Petit film sympathique que j'aurais dû aller voir avant le temps des fêtes...quoique non, sinon grosse déprime...le film n'est pas aussi drôle que prévu!

Sur la variation "Noël en famille", j'ai beaucoup plus aimé "Un Week-end en famille" de Jodie Foster : savoureux! A tel point que ce dernier figure au top 10 de mes films "légers" préférés!

Le temps qui reste

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Thu, 08 Dec 2005 10:30:00 +0100

Le cinéma français d’auteur et moi ne parlons décidément pas le même langage...

Le film commence, pas d’apollon à l’écran mais bon, je pense passer un bon moment devant un film qui fera autre chose que me distraire, me faire réfléchir un peu pour une fois… et puis, au fur et à mesure que Melvil Poupaud avance dans le temps qu’il lui reste, je cherche en vain des choses auxquelles me raccrocher : un sens, une métaphore, un signe. Pour finir, je reste comme une étrangère dans un pays dont elle ne comprend pas la langue : à essayer de trouver sur les lèvres des autochtones des mots qu'elle puisse comprendre, en vain.

Soeurettes, j'vous adore...

noreply@hautetfort.com () — Tue, 29 Nov 2005 18:55:00 +0100

Une belle démonstration d'amitié entre soeurs...et je sais de quoi je parle! J'en ai deux.... :)