The Formidable French | # 1

The start of second year has come, and I'm overly excited to be taking a module in French cinema. I've always loved film (can you tell?) and wanted to take a deeper look into it, so this module seems perfect to me. We're only a few weeks into the course, but so far I've learnt that French stars from the 20th Century were beyond beautiful, so I'm going to do a mini-series to introduce to you the best of the bunch. 
Chronological order probably suits best; in order of beauty would be too tough a decision. So first to the mark is Jean Gabin, the original rough-around-the-edges hunk.
Born in 1904, he rose to fame in French cinemas as the gentleman to end them all, starring in classics like Pépé le Moko, La grande illusion, Le Quai des brumes, La bête humaine, and Le jour se lève. Looking at his portrait, it's no surprise that he and Marlene Dietrich shared a torrid romance for a few years, before it came to an end following the failure of a film they were starring in together. He's come to be considered a father-figure of French acting, and was even made a member of the Légion d'honneur.
As Gabin aged, he let go of the classic genre and turned his hand to policiers (what you and I know as cop films), playing on his new, fatherly reputation amongst French cinema-goers. Definitely prefer the young, dapper version of him.
No one's really sure what it is about Gabin that makes him so heralded, but whatever it is, it definitely worked in his favour.

La Ville Lumière | Summer Part 2

So what was the rest of my summer, if work was Part one? Well, the biggest impact on my summer was my birthday present, the fulfillment of a dream (of mine, and of many); Paris! City of love, fashion capital of the world, home of artists and poets and writers and everything else it's famous for, Paris was a dream. My sister and I made an ad-hoc decision to jump on the Eurostar, skip under the Channel and spend a weekend there. We went full tourist, and managed most of the major sights in two short days. Vertigo held me back from climbing La Tour Eiffel, but all in good time. 

Naturally, I fell deeply, desperately, and quite disgustingly in love. A true cliché, Montmarte is the most beautiful quartier of any city I have (and probably will) visit. That said, I'd like to point out that the Eiffel Tower is a glorified piece of metal. It's a wonderful landmark, but it is what it is; a tall, rusty iron triangle. Iconic, yes. Incredible, undoubtedly. Beautiful? Hmm. 
A holiday it might have been, but it wasn't without its benefits. I now have a solid (some might say stubborn) desire to spend the six francophone months of my year abroad at the Sorbonne. It seems that every member of staff at the University of Manchester is determined to put me off, but it's not going to happen. Whats more, Paris gave me back my painter's hand. How could it not? As soon as I got back I cracked out the watercolours.

As is everyone who sets foot in the city of dreamers, I was captivated by the architecture. I set to work on a Parisian window I'd snapped over there. You can see the result on my instagram. I fell back into painting mode and reached to my travels in Berlin for inspirtation.

JUST A WEEKJust a week after returning from Paris, I was off again. Where? Back to the good old rainy city; Manchester. It was that time again: University called, and after a long summer of failures, successes, and repetition, I answered willingly. I moved into my new house [unfortunately not without problems] and threw myself into life as a second year. I've spent the last 12 weeks diving into French Cinema, translating what seems like every literary text in the French speaking world, and haphazardly trying to set my year abroad in stone. It's been a mad one, but God it's been good.

        

  Fallowfield is beautiful as ever [read: Fallowfield doesn't look like a sh*thole when you look at it in the right light], Uni is hectic, Paris is wonderful, and I'm back.