All the Oscar talk about this year's Best Foreign Film, Amour, has me thinking about the many French films I watched during my yearlong experiment of importing certain French parenting lessons to use on my two daughters.
Larry was intellectual, literary, and one of the most brainy artists of his generation, but there was always the feeling in the art world that the more intellectual the artist, the less talented the painter.
Sometimes accompanied by Sarde, sometimes without him, generally after a simple, spontaneous phone call to make sure I was there, available "for a coffee," Jean-Luc Godard stopped by my place on the Boulevard Saint-Germain.
The Motion Picture Academy does an injustice, not only to the recipients but to their fans, by continuing its new policy of presenting honorary Oscars at a special function in November instead of the ceremony next February.
Whether or not you personally love their work, it is difficult to dismiss the impact of the French New Wave. To reinforce this strongly held position, here is a pungent mix of Truffaut, Godard and Rohmer.