I didn’t consider myself a Woody Allen fan. But upon viewing his latest offering, a film that – somewhat unexpectedly – took this year’s Cannes Film Festival by storm, I found myself wildly in love with the man, in spite of (or perhaps because of) what I’ve heard. Safe to say the film touched a nerve. And to think I knew nothing of the film and went along only on the request of my mother.
Midnight in Paris depicts a successful American screenwriter, Gil Pender, (Owen Wilson) who is toying with the idea of walking away from the bright lights of Hollywood and its associated financial rewards to pursue his lifelong creative dream – to live in Paris and write a novel. His fiancée, Ines (Rachel McAdams) and her affluent and conservative parents are not exactly enthusiastic. Obsessed with the idea of living in a different time and place (specifically Paris in the 1920s), Gil’s fledgling novel centres on the life and times of a nostalgia shop employee.
The film documents Gil and Ines’ trip to Paris to celebrate a successful business deal by Ines’ father. Without revealing too much of the plot (which absolutely delighted me, to the extent that I literally gasped in awe out loud in the cinema), Gil has the opportunity to experience what life was like for many of his heroes, which prompts him to see things he’s been denying in his own life.
In many ways, I am Gil Pender. I long for a life lived somewhere else. Though I’ve been a student of many languages, a 6-month stint in the French countryside plus a French major and a (mad) love of Western European art and history puts France at the top of my preferred location list. As a literature nerd and a full-blown Francophile, the idea of roaming the streets of the city where many of my literary and artistic idols once lived has me brimming with excitement the way a potential brush with celebrity might for others.
Like Gil, my cultural curiosity and nerdy inclination has convinced me that the immense creative reputation of the city of lights is unparalleled. Paris is responsible for so much of what I love; in music and film, fashion, food, language, architecture, academic study, politics, social practices and etiquette. Parisians relate to themselves and the rest of the world in a distinctly different way – to a fault, if you believe their popular reputation for arrogance – and they know like the rest of the world that no-one does it better.
In some ways, the film reminded me of 2008‘s Revolutionary Road where Kate Winslet’s April and Leonardo DiCaprio’s Frank also longed for a place where things could be different, where they could cultivate their creative selves and live a better life. They make plans to pack up their two children, inane jobs and suburban existence and move to the centre of the civilised universe where life will be as it always should have been. All it takes is to move to Paris. Unfortunately for them, life gets in the way and they never make it.
As I experienced during my time there, the French really do focus on the good things in life. They value quality in everything – food and wine, fashion, experiences and relationships. They value their local community, take things slowly, spend time with family, have a strong work/life balance and appreciate what’s important. Their unique take on gender equality is refreshing as it is entirely based on intellect rather than looks and completely devoid of stereotypes and pervades all areas of public life including politics and even the French language. The French offer their opinions freely, engage in lively debate, expect immaculate manners and have no interest in sport (its never been their strong suit).
These distinct qualities of French life seem at times to be sadly lacking in my own life in Melbourne, and sometime I crave them so much that I have myself convinced that they will never be present unless my life is lived in Paris. On closer inspection though, I realise that these things are not big things. They are the details of life, and though they seem so obvious, and so simple, I feel as though few people (outside of France that is) manage to get them right.
The thing is though, the grass always appears greener on the other side and perhaps sometimes it is. But Midnight in Paris reminded me that though Paris may be the best city in the world it is quite easy to bring the best of Parisian life to wherever you are. Perhaps all it takes to bring Paris to Melbourne is frequent visits to our city’s amazing galleries, boutiques and restaurants, some wine with dinner and good manners.
We will always long for something else. We will always perceive something to be lacking in our lives. But happiness isn’t location dependent. As the French show us, it can be as simple as surrounding yourself with people you love, exposing yourself to ideas that challenge you, and making time for the things you treasure.
Upon leaving the cinema and walking out into a balmy Melbourne night I made my way along the banks of the Yarra, where the street sparkled with fairy lights, just as it does along the Champs-Élysées. I will always long for Paris, but for now, Melbourne will do me just nicely.
Image credits: Carla Coulson
