MissSimonetta Children of Paradise (1945) is a masterpiece. There is no denying that. There is no discussion: this film is one of the finest examples of cinema as a storytelling form.Much has already been made of the film's troubled production and the WWII allegory, so I won't go into that here. I just want to discuss how it works as a movie. It is that rare film which is theatrical without feeling phony or "stagey" as some would call it. The characters are able to feel both larger than life and thoroughly, painfully real. Every actor is great and there is not a bad performance in the bunch. Though Carne is dealing with the colorful world of 19th century theater, the black and white film is perfect in projecting a dreamlike ambiance and a bittersweet sense of romance.Though the love square plot might make you believe this is some trite melodrama, let me assure you it absolutely is not that at all. This is a movie which examines lost chances, lost loves. It mourns the passage of time, especially when someone settles for less than what they truly want. The heart of Children of Paradise possesses a piercing, aching melancholy, one you will not be able to shake for hours on end after you watch it.

SnoopyStyle It's the 1820s in the theater district of Paris or the Boulevard du Crime. Claire 'Garance' Reine (Arletty) is an aluring woman in the show. Four men all fall for her. Baptiste Debureau (Jean-Louis Barrault) is a mime. Frédérick Lemaître (Pierre Brasseur) is a serious actor. Pierre François Lacenaire (Marcel Herrand) is a thief. Count Édouard de Montray (Louis Salou) is an aristocrat. Garance is accused of stealing a watch from a man which was taken by Lacenaire and witness Baptiste saves her. Nathalie, who is also a mime, loves Baptiste.When I read the accolades that this is "the greatest French film of all time", my expectations were heightened. Maybe there are things lost in the translation. It's basically a romance melodrama. I know that this was made during the Nazi occupation. I can certainly see the emotional connection that entails especially for the French. I understand perfectly how difficult this must have been to put such a large production on the screen. As a movie, this is merely a well-made melodrama and not much more. I really like the extended scene of the play. It's a good movie but it's a little disappointing.

jamesmartin1995 There is no doubt that French cinema includes many of the world's finest, most influential and iconic films. From fantasy to neo-realism, historical epic to kitchen sink drama, and with arguably the most important cinematic New Wave to add to its canon, French masterpieces can be found in almost every genre imaginable; indeed, in many cases, they have helped to distinguish between them.'Les Enfants du Paradis' is considered the finest product of the partnership between director Marcel Carné and writer Jacques Prévert. At over three hours, and split into two parts, the film follows a handful of colourful characters through the 1820s and 30s in that fascinating, mystical city: Paris. The focus is on the Parisian theatre – a place of hypocrisy, deception, exaggerated emotion, corrosive artificiality, cheap tricks and crude laughs. With an astonishing attention to detail, and displaying a perfect mastery of his medium, Carné exposes with scorching wit the superficiality of society and the damaging effect it has had on his characters. There is a fine line between fantasy and reality, and the characters, sometimes without even knowing it, deceive themselves and the others around them. In a film with so many grand themes, its tragedy lies in its profound exploration of love, and what happens when genuine emotion attempts to shine through in a world of romantic, sentimental lies, cruel falsehoods, deluded pride and vicious crime.Much of the brilliance of this film I cannot divulge in my review. I admit, that aside from its considerable critical acclaim, I knew nothing about it when I bought my ticket. That is the way it should be seen: let its delicious melodrama, breathtaking sets, classy cinematography, dry comedy and poignant tragedy wash over you. Long it may be, but the time flies by; very rarely have I been taken on as deep and enjoyable a ride as this one – and how refreshing that is, considering that those two adjectives seldom gel when talking about cinema. Even more impressive is that with so many characters, story lines and themes at play, the movie never once feels rushed or convoluted: its pacing is pitch perfect, and its artistic vision - impeccable; the denouement is abrupt and delivers a memorable emotional punch to the gut.This is a timeless film for all tastes: those who like a great plot, a compelling love story, lavish costumes, profound thematic material, passion and grand emotion, an insight into a different culture or a different time and place – this has everything, encompassing all of life – from the most pitifully poor to the most disgustingly rich. I personally cannot wait to see it again, and the newly restored version released recently by the BFI is definitely the way to go if you have the intention of watching it – the print, much like the film, is a joy to behold, almost doing full justice to the amazing cinematography (courtesy of Marc Fossard and Roger Hubert) and the delightful technical and stylistic flourishes found within it.I am not exaggerating when I say that this may well be one of the finest films ever made. It could be studied and analysed until the cows come home, but as is often the case for many truly great films, there is nothing quite like seeing it for the first time and just enjoying it for what it is, not feeling the need to try and analyse because you have complete confidence in the filmmaker and are utterly captivated by the story he is telling you. It was made over sixty years ago now, but it could have been released yesterday for the first time. It feels as fresh and exciting as ever - and that, for me, is the sign of a film to cherish!

ElMaruecan82 Love is made of cruel irony, but as sweet as a pearl of honey … feelings never imitate, never deviate, though the shortest way between two hearts is never straight. Love can take many disguises, always commands and never compromises. Love is the true master of our ill-fated lives, and when it perishes through jealousy survives, for the flame of hate in an indecent symmetry, is only the rotten fruit falling from love's tree ~~~~~~~~~~ Love is a theater when only hearts can talk, love is a tightrope on which only souls can walk ... when guided by their feelings' purity, or a friendly smile haunting for eternity. Born from a surprising encounter, an innocent flower or an eternal thunder, love is the ultimate soul-player, its sources are infinite and damages definite, it erases in one instant all the life's meanings, and paints the truest words with the most painful feelings. What a glorious portrait that love is, floating in the air like an innocent breeze ... but roaring like the most ferocious storm, when it takes its deepest, sincerest form ~~~~~~ There was once a pretty flower, smelling like the most hypnotic power, her name was Garance, a lady whose first glance, melted your heart or tore it apart. There was Frederick Le Maitre aka the Master Fredrick, the greatest actor who knew every trick, as an actor, he was not just the one but the only one, but as an actor, he was also both anyone and everyone. His life was a never-ending play, a game he'd got to win anyway, except for Garance, beautiful Garance, who belonged to anyone and everyone, and "when a woman belongs to no one, jealousy belongs to everyone". Now to Lacenaire, incarnation of fear, anger and frustration in his heart he nourishes, and everything he touches he inevitably tarnishes, more than anyone, the society he loathes, and he turns the words like he slits the throats, with an immaculate ruthlessness and a flawless precision, he's only distracted by one blinding vision, the only light of beauty in the ugliness of France, the one and only, the beautiful Garance. But only one word with Garance could rhyme, it was the silence, the silence of the mime. It was Baptiste who was given the rose, the true meaning of love, he finally knows, he can't get Garance off his mind, a treasure he'll never, never, ever find. But love is made of cruel irony, the most priceless treasures can be bought with money, bought when she needed one person to count … on, and she found De Montray, the Count, who rhymed Garance with the word 'Providence' through one of these cruel ironies of fate, but Garance knew the way was never straight ~~~~~~ And here begins the glorious tragedy, of the purest soul of silent comedy, and Garance, romantic, joyful and street-wise, in the French masterpiece "Children of Paradise" ~~~~~~ They belong to the lowest class of French society, they are as young as the new romantic century, for their bodies' comfort hardly matters, they sat on the highest spot of popular theaters, whose unlikely name was "Paradise", the place from which the greatest laughs rise, costing less than a worthless dime, even covering the 'noise' of the pantomime. Always sincere and never silly, these are the hearts pounding of Vox Populi, real people who don't need words so the passion can touch their sensitive chords ... that's entertainment in its pure simplicity, that's entertainment in its simple purity. Theatre is love, it's the velvet glove, on the hand of life, that can carry a knife ~~~~~~~~ One could kill you in your deepest core, love was a play with no encore, and everyday was an eternal premiere, maybe written by the villainous Lacenaire. Or life was an eternal self-parody, where you could make a star out of anybody ... or it might be a tragic pantomime, a bleeding heart for an timeless time ... or did it need all the excess, when love was simply a need to possess, a need to be, to win, to conquer, to find the eternal question's eternal answer, an answer that desperately shut its name ... love is anything and never the same, one victory for a thousand defeats, one little smile emerging from the streets. Baptiste won that smile, in the theater of reality, and relived its loss as an eternal tragedy, stage was the theater of a never ending mourning, a cruel and painfully silent feeling … and even a beautiful family, or the true love of poor Nathalie couldn't erase one simple night's remembrance, the one that rhymed with the beautiful Garance ~~~~~~ Spectacular, stellar, than life bigger and love stronger, epic, frenetic, noisy and rowdy, witty and wise … this is the inner beauty of "Children of Paradise", prodigious, glorious, sumptuous, miraculous, this is a miracle like only Cinema could have provided, an epic tale in two parts divided : "Boulevard of Crime" where the flower meets the Mime, and "The Man in White" or the finale of the fight. One of the most endearing cinematic romances, served by a colorful gallery of magnificent performances, on every level it reaches perfection, delightful experience of a poetry in motion, Garance, Frederick, Baptiste or Lacenaire, with immortal lines from Jacques Prevert, open your hearts' doors … like "Paris is small for those who share ... so great a passion as ours." It's Marcel Carne's epic of passion, call it "Gone with the Wind", the French Version, that speaks to the heart and defies the reason, in every world's part and in any season ~~~~~~ The Greatest Film ever made in France … the most universally emotional romance … the love story of Baptiste and Garance … that I salute with a respectful reverence. And now that I used up all my prose … the big curtain I can finally close ~~~~