Reżyseria:
Christophe GansZdjęcia:
Christophe BeaucarneMuzyka:
Pierre AdenotObsada:
Vincent Cassel, Léa Seydoux, André Dussollier, Eduardo Noriega, Myriam Charleins, Audrey Lamy, Sara Giraudeau, Jonathan Demurger, Nicolas Gob (więcej)Opisy(1)
1810. After the wreck of his ships, a financially-ruined merchant exiles himself in the countryside with his six children. Among them is Beauty, his youngest daughter, a joyful girl full of grace. One day, during an arduous journey, the merchant stumbles across the magical domain of the Beast, who sentences him to death for stealing a rose. Feeling responsible for the terrible fate which has befallen her family, Beauty decides to sacrifice herself and take her father's place. At the Beast's castle, it is not death that awaits Beauty, but a strange life in which fantastical moments mingle with gaiety and melancholy. Every night, at dinner, Beauty and the Beast sit down together. (oficjalny tekst dystrybutora)
(więcej)Recenzje (2)
I truly don’t understand why France films so many remakes that have nothing to offer except for the actors. Purely because they attempt to film these classic themes in absolutely classic ways that someone’s already tried before and succeeded (since they were the first one to do it). Just off the top of my head, I can think of Fanfan la Tulipe or Angélique. This Beauty and the Beast hints at wanting to be different, but in the end, its fairytale-ness and its fantasy-ness don’t offer anything else other than a classic fairytale with a classic premise and a classic flow of storytelling. But Léa Seydoux has at least proved herself.
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Gans understands me. That his version of the classic fairy tale would be a ticket to the deepest hell for most lovers of understated minimalism was clear from the first blow of the clapperboard, which itself had to be set so cleverly set that the clapper didn't blow away the hundreds of rose petals on the powdered artificial snow. And truly, it dangerously often leaps several kilometers across the boundaries of ultimate kitsch to somewhere in the vicinity of Thomas Kinkade. But given the fact that we have an alibi from the start that this is going to be a storybook illustration, and we'll learn at the end that it was probably the imagination of a simple country woman who likes her bearded husband and a garden full of roses, I can actually sit back and enjoy every hideously over-stylized shot, looking exactly as I imagined fairy-tale realms as a little tyke. Which perhaps makes me a closeted gay, because that rubber tree for artificial flowers was for this film a bridge too far.
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