The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Watched 12/12/24 (MAX)

In my ignorance, I had never heard of Cherbourg. Thus, I had certainly never given much thought to watching a movie called The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Squarely a movie lover’s movie, I am not at all shocked after my viewing to know that this is Damien Chazelle’s favorite film. A Siskel and Ebert love affair, a Patton Oswalt pleasure, a Criterion Collection staple…this one has its die-hards, and I now count myself among them. After literally coming across this title via a random youtube trailer citing Chazelle’s praise, this opened me up to a genre I didn’t know I had interest in.

The French New Wave musical is the name of that genre. After taking a few film classes in college and watching some truly boring trash from that same wave, I was skeptical here. And even though I have a strong appreciation for both West Side Story films, The Wizard of Oz, Tenacious D, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I have also seen a lot of stinker musicals and consider myself trepidatious when it comes to seeking out new song and dance pictures. But I gave Umbrellas a chance, and found myself fully safe from any rainy bullshit that I find musicals and French New Wave movies sometimes contain. This one is magnificent.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg tackles a classic love story with all the splendor, detail, and energy of classic Hollywood productions, but does so with a subversive candor that won me over all the way from its electric opening to its deadly, operatic finale. The plot starts off unremarkably, with a mechanic and an umbrella store heiress falling in love too young to know any better. They engage in a lot of PDA and sing their feelings loud and proud through the streets.

The mechanic is a 20-year-old named Guy, played by Nino Castelnuovo. The umbrella girl is a 17-year-old named Genevieve and is played by a breathtaking Catherine Deneuve, who was 21 at the time of filming and already at peak magnetism (more on that to come). The movie sets the stakes right out of the gate, with both actors professing their love for each other in every way possible. It’s all somehow organic and stately, despite every single line (in the whole movie!) being sung. Yes, that’s right. Every single line in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is sung! And against all odds, it’s not annoying!

Genevieve quickly catches flak from her mother for being too young to be thinking of love and marriage. And sure enough, the mother is correct. Guy is soonafter drafted for military service and will have to leave for two years. The couple is of course devastated, their plans dashed and their dreams obliterated with but one letter in the mail.

Yet despite the towering disaster driving this plot early and often, the not-so-secret weapon of Umbrellas is its production design. The songs, and more vitally, the colors and architecture of the costumes and locale, are some of the best that a musical has ever offered. Sumptuous swaths of blue, pink, green, and purple sweep across the screen and pair with gut-punch melodrama mechanics surprisingly well, making for a decidedly bittersweet viewing experience.

The situation gets rougher. Genevieve gets pregnant right before Guy leaves. Guy doesn’t write her in the first few months as much as he should (seriously, this is the most beautiful girl on the planet, you can write a few more letters, Guy, you dumbass). Genevieve and her mother face financial difficulty with their umbrella store. And then Genevieve’s mom suggests the toughest of solutions to all of these problems. Genevieve could marry a suitor that they meet, a hotshot jewelry salesman who travels Europe making big money. She could secure her future, her mother’s future, and her unborn child’s future all with one fell swoop. And this suitor is a genuinely solid dude, to boot!

Singing their way through this brutal choice with artificial rain, artificial sets, and artificial decor around the horn, Genevieve and her mother navigate these hardships to the best of their ability with anything but artifice. It all takes on a gritty realism in a way that so many musicals fail to grab hold of. It’s a brilliant wrong-footing that feels so right by the time the clock runs out and we reach an endpoint. I don’t want to spoil anything for those who haven’t seen it, but all I will say is Guy returns from his military service to a brand new Cherbourg in more ways than one.

Relationships crumble and blossom among the movie’s cast of characters, and every actor feels right at home not only in their character development, but in doing so while singing, and while looking absolutely stunning. It’s a movie packed with beautiful vistas, voices, and people—Umbrellas really understands that if you’re going to ask your audience to try something new (a movie where every line is sung), you should meet the audience halfway by casting super hot people. It doesn’t matter that it was the ‘60s, director Jacques Demy found timelessly attractive actors. With his surest of hands dictating the instantly iconic environment around them, Umbrellas is an all-timer in terms of the best-looking movies ever made. And the finale will floor you. Check this one out, it’s likely what convinced the rainbow-loving aliens in Close Encounters to come check out Earth.

9.5/10