In 1914, with men gone to war, Marcel Proust hired Céleste Albaret as his attendant. More than eight years later, she was at his side when he died. During this entire time, she only entered...
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In 1914, with men gone to war, Marcel Proust hired Céleste Albaret as his attendant. More than eight years later, she was at his side when he died. During this entire time, she only entered his room when he rang for her, sleeping from 9 AM to 3 PM to wait during the night while he wrote. Marcel uses her as more than a servant: she is his muse, telling stories of her childhood to stir his remembrance of things past; she's in cahoots with him as he manipulates those he wants to draw on for his writing; she listens appalled to his descriptions of the underside of Paris. Hers is a life of love and sweet devotion as he races time to finish his work before death.Written by
It is hard to imagine a movie more devoid of energy than this one. Partly it is due to the subject matter--Marcel Proust's later life as an invalid. However, a slow paced movie idea to begin with was straddled with slow pacing and nearly no emotion whatsoever. How this could result in a movie that would appeal to anyone is beyond me.
So why 3 points and not less? Well, the acting is fine and the makeup people did a great job of making the actor that played Proust look like death warmed over--that's for sure. But, given that nearly all the movie takes place in his apartment, it is easy to see why the movie just didn't captivate me at all. With some infusion of energy OR some insights into Proust or his housekeeper, this could have been a much better picture.
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