Sharon Bowman
Sharon Bowman
Every summer from mid-July to early August there is an outdoor cinema festival at the Parc de la Villette in the northeast corner of Paris. As night falls at 10.30pm or so in these long days of the year (recall: New York is on the same latitude as Naples; we're northerly hereabouts), the film starts late, leaving a broad expanse of time to go tipple elsewhere or, which is more gratifying, directly in the park.
Aside from a couple of shameful tourist spacesI'll name names: the Champs-Elyses and the Champ de Mars (that flat mown park in front of the Eiffel Tower)where boozing has been proscribed, everywhere else in this fine town, one may bring one's bottle(s) and corkscrew, stemware, whatever else seems apposite, and tuck in.
Picnics abound.
And, oh my brothers, a few days ago they showed (in the original with discreet French subtitles) "A Clockwork Orange."
It had been warm that day, nearly 80F after a week of chilly chills, overcast and mediocrity. It was still fine out as night fell, but it was also nice to have a woolen blanket (rentable from the park) and to sit on a canvas lawn chair and watch this still startling, still hilarious film under dark and beautiful yet calm skies, with a wind that kicked up.
My friend Meg brought the last of her stash of 2007 Chidaine, bought in a frenzy of appreciative relief in, I dunno, March or so, at a wine festival. C'mon, Chidaine, it's like, crazy good, dudes.
There is so much to say for the experience. The small round yellow zucchinis she had prepared, stuffed with ground veal and pork, basil and spelt. The dark yet clement sky. The savory Montlouis. The lovely silence amid many. All were quiet. I hate to say it, but films are better when lots of people are watching them. I always go alone, but here we were all alone, and all enrapt.
Thursday is "Juno." Pairing thoughts?
Aside from a couple of shameful tourist spacesI'll name names: the Champs-Elyses and the Champ de Mars (that flat mown park in front of the Eiffel Tower)where boozing has been proscribed, everywhere else in this fine town, one may bring one's bottle(s) and corkscrew, stemware, whatever else seems apposite, and tuck in.
Picnics abound.
And, oh my brothers, a few days ago they showed (in the original with discreet French subtitles) "A Clockwork Orange."
It had been warm that day, nearly 80F after a week of chilly chills, overcast and mediocrity. It was still fine out as night fell, but it was also nice to have a woolen blanket (rentable from the park) and to sit on a canvas lawn chair and watch this still startling, still hilarious film under dark and beautiful yet calm skies, with a wind that kicked up.
My friend Meg brought the last of her stash of 2007 Chidaine, bought in a frenzy of appreciative relief in, I dunno, March or so, at a wine festival. C'mon, Chidaine, it's like, crazy good, dudes.
There is so much to say for the experience. The small round yellow zucchinis she had prepared, stuffed with ground veal and pork, basil and spelt. The dark yet clement sky. The savory Montlouis. The lovely silence amid many. All were quiet. I hate to say it, but films are better when lots of people are watching them. I always go alone, but here we were all alone, and all enrapt.
Thursday is "Juno." Pairing thoughts?
