Les bleus de l'amour: A dusty little French diversion

Is it worth your time?

If you're the kind of person who likes rooting through the bargain bin of cinema history, Les bleus de l'amour is a fine way to spend an hour or so. It’s light, it’s breezy, and it doesn't try to change the world. Fans of 1930s French character pieces will likely get a kick out of the performances, but if you need high stakes or modern pacing, you'll probably hate this. It moves at the speed of a polite afternoon stroll.

There is a specific kind of earnestness here that you just don't see anymore. It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy found in Street Girl, where every character seems to be constantly running toward or away from their own messy feelings.

Notes from the couch

• Janine Crispin really carries the weight of the scenes, even when the dialogue feels like it’s being held together by nothing more than thin twine.
• The lighting in the cafe sequence is... well, it's certainly a choice. Everyone looks like they’re being interviewed for a passport photo.
• Fernand Charpin has this one specific look he gives when he’s confused that made me laugh out loud. It’s purely unintentional, I’m sure.
• There is a moment near the middle where the film just stops. No plot movement, just people standing around. It’s almost hypnotic.

The whole thing feels a bit like a stage play that someone forgot to clear the stage for. You can see the seams. You can see the actors waiting for their marks. It’s imperfect, and I kind of love that about it.

It’s not as polished as Puttin' on the Ritz, and it’s certainly not trying to be. It feels smaller. More domestic. Like watching a neighbor have a bad day through a window that’s slightly too dirty to see through clearly.

I found myself wondering if they actually liked each other off-camera. Some of the chemistry feels forced, like they were told to kiss or argue five minutes before the cameras started rolling. Whatever. It works well enough to keep you watching.

It’s a bit of a relic. A dusty, charming little relic. Don't overthink it.