This blog... I have ideas for this blog, but no time, no time...
When I heard that Sylvain Chomet's treatment of Jacques Tati's script for the Illusionist was set in Edinburgh I kind of assumed there'd be lots of fun in recognizing places in the drawings. Still, I thought it was pretty great when I noticed that the pawn shop, where the old ventriloquist pawns his dummy, is based on the real pawn shop where my dad once bought me a trumpet (which I then utterly failed to learn to play).
The film is beautiful (except for some of the CG stuff), but beware of taking your kids. The small boy next to me was bored out of his mind.
Yet again there is nothing under the following link. Blasted code.
3 comments:
Said trumpet is under my bed. Sorry! An Ealing tea break will solve that. But only once I've escaped from the Gare De Nore, c. 1931.
Or Gare du Nord..
Loved the illusionist too, a real treat for the eyes. But oh so sad, I did shed a tear at one point..
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