A Post a Day in May 2019 #14: Allo? Bonjour!

-

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.

I’m feeling a little lost, a little sad, these days without my friends from the ASK talent agency in Paris to keep me company. I’ve become invested in their professional work and their personal relationships, and I miss them. 

Yes, it’s ‘only’ a show on Netflix, but what a show. Call My Agent is three seasons of smart dialogue, laugh-out-loud moments of human foibles, and the gorgeousness of daily life in Paris. Oh my goodness, the style, the architecture, the language, the drinking — if it’s not ‘un petit cafe’ it’s ‘une coupe de champagne’ (the agency is well stocked). I’ve enjoyed the story lines, which always feature big-name French actors who play themselves in the world of film and which weave in the evolving relationships among the agency partners, their assistants, their clients, and their families. 

There is drama and tension. There is comedy and poignancy. And there is such fine acting as only, it seems, European productions can achieve. I relied on the subtitles, but, over time, my ear grew ever more used to the fast-paced speech and by the end I used them only to verify my understanding rather than to know what was being said. See? It’s self-improving, too! 

Treat yourself to a little sojourn in The City of Lights. Go on: Call My Agent. 

Thanks for reading. 

- - - - 
Writers want to be read; at least, this writer wants to be read, so comments, rebuttals and feedback are all welcome. Subscribe to the blog to receive the posts direct into your email inbox. 


Comments

  1. MargueriteMay 14, 2019 at 11:24 AM

    I get it. I feel a sadness/loss when I have finished the last episode of my flavour-of-the-day Netflix series.
    Ozark, Rake and Money for Nothing have left me wanting more...………...

    ReplyDelete
  2. PamelakatMay 14, 2019 at 11:12 PM

    Will add this one to The List . . .

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Comments are moderated. Please be respectful.

Popular posts from this blog

Listening for the piano / Thinking about grief

-
Image
Grief is not a land in which I have travelled much, though I routinely explore it via others’ experience. I am drawn to do this as a student is drawn to the masters: To observe, to sit with, to wonder if those others’ experiences might help prepare me for my own when I find myself in that place. Will it? Sara Paretsky, author of the V.I. Warshawski mystery series, says that the grief over her long-time husband’s death hit her like a grand piano falling out of the sky onto her head. There is no pre-mourning, she says. Nonetheless, I persist in my studies: Memoirs of loss. Stories of grief. Tales of survival. I sit with those experiences. The words, the feelings, the anguish wash over me. And I ask myself: Will the sun rise tomorrow? Will I see it when it does?  Should I worry about this? Should I just expect, presume that what has always been will always be? Absurd. It will not always be. The loves of my life are all older, are all old. 95, my mother. Almost 80, my p...
Read more

Anniversary post: This year marks 31 together

-
Image
Amanda and Val: many years ago and today.  Man, look how young we were. Sheesh. Thirty-one years and counting certainly shows. But who in their right mind would care about wrinkles or grey hair when it is a good and generous love that has propelled us through the years together.  Every good story is told through both summary and scenes. Val & Amanda’s story: The summary A generous love that has withstood the challenges of two bouts of cancer and multiple joint replacements, of job changes and career disappointments, of cats found and cats lost, of parents living and parents dying. Two women, together, building a good life. Amanda: Three scenes April 1997: Val and I are driving from Winnipeg  down through the Dakotas and Wyoming and Utah to Arizona, camping in a tent along the way and marvelling at what we can do together, still, after Val’s cancer diagnosis earlier that year. At a roadside cafe somewhere in Utah, a woman asks me if we are sisters. Without skipping a b...
Read more

If pride comes before a fall, what comes after disappointment?

-
Image
Disappointment is not something any of us aim for, I’m sure. The very last thing I ever want to be told by someone is that they are disappointed in me. But this week, I have been very disappointed in others. Life goes on, but that niggling thread of “if only” and “why could it not have been different” lingers in the corners of my mind. Last week’s lightening-quick sale of our cottage ended in disappointment all round when the deal fell through at the final hurdle. The details are not what matter here; what matters is that age-old life lesson about counting your chickens before they’re hatched and sharing good news before it is fully rooted and secured. But who among us has not jumped the gun? Presumed that all would go as promised, as planned? Believed in the goodness of people and trusted that the story would unfold as it had begun — smoothly, seamlessly, successfully? Ah, well. Sometimes it just doesn’t. So we find ourselves at a new beginning, with a different round of showings and...
Read more