Lola (Demy)

Lola is a cabaret dancer living in Nantes, and she’s the centre of both the film and the affections of the three male leads. There’s Roland, a layabout and a dreamer who loved Lola as a teenager. Then there’s Frankie, an American sailor who has struck up a relationship with her on his travels through France. Finally there is Michel, the absent father of Lola’s child who disappeared seven years back.

It’s the film’s self-consciousness that turns this story of first loves into something more interesting than the by-numbers fluff that a brief outlining of the setup might suggest – it’s a fantasyland full of people that are dreaming of playing their life out as though it’s a romantic Hollywood movie, and this counteracts movingly with the disappointments of their everyday existence. It’s what gives the film’s cute finale some weight. It’s as though Lola has forced her way into a movie screen to make things turn out happy ever after.

The main joys come from the interactions between the characters, how their paths cross (or don’t), how connections and inversions reveal themselves as the plot unfolds, how their dreams and remembrances rhyme. A wired network is created that really lights up if you give in to its charms.

The way it’s all wrapped up is pretty seductive too. Jacques Demy’s gliding, graceful direction is a perfect partner to Raoul Coutard’s gorgeous cinematography, and backed up by Michel Legrand’s greasy, romantic score it makes for completely hypnotic viewing.

Although the plot and its characters are cut out of some very familiar cloth, Lola lights up the screen, it glistens and it sparkles and it’s thrillingly alive.