In, I think, either Annie Hall or Manhattan, Woody Allen's character noted that in his family the biggest sin was buying retail. In my book it's sloppiness; sloppy writing, sloppy researching and this movie hits one out of the park as early as the opening credits which proclaim: introducing Serge Reggiani. That's breathtaking whichever way you look at it given that Paris Blues was Regiani's 40th - count 'm 40th - movie. Okay, the majority of these were French but they included such titles as La Ronde, Les Amants de Verone, Casque d'Or not forgetting Act Of Love, starring Kirk Douglas. In Paris Blues he plays a jazz guitarist known as the 'gypsy' an oh-so-subtle nod to Django Reindhart, an internationally renowned French jazz guitarist with celebrated gypsy blood. The film, shot in black and white, is about as far from a travelogue/valentine to Paris as you can get, set largely in the small jazz clubs on the Left Bank and although it does introduce themes like racism - Sidney Poitier's character had settled in Paris so that he could be just a musician as opposed to a Black musician; Diahann Carroll, the American tourist who falls in love with him is a committed campaigner for Civil Rights - it fails to address them adequately. If beguiling ninety minutes painlessly is your thing then this should hit the spot.
Review of Paris Blues
