Forbidden Games sounds like a 90s erotic thriller
(And in fact there is a 90s erotic thriller of the same name)
But this beautiful film from Réne Clément is a profound mixture of sweetness, kindness, heartbreak and humour.
Paulette (Brigitte Fossey) an orphaned refugee from Paris in the midst of World War II is adopted by the Dolle family, where slightly older Michel (Georges Poujolly) taking her under his wing, a defacto sibling bond developing between the pair. Michel helps Paulette focuses her sadness into an obsession with crosses and a somewhat misguided understanding of faith.
A tale of War, displacement and grief viewed through the eyes of a child, where all the complex feels are encapsulated within the cross that sits atop your grave, be it the grave of a dog and earthworm or…people.
The Dolle family are so matter of fact in their adopting of young Paulette, and yet their class (or classless more like) war with their neighbours turns the act of grief into a competition, albeit a hilarious one, a practice equally as wrong-footed as Paulette’s own crucifixial obsession.
Somewhere in a mill barn, some 74 years later, you know that Owl is still watching over that necklace ❤️
Forbidden Games sounds like a 90s erotic thriller
(And in fact there is a 90s erotic thriller of the same name)
But this beautiful film from Réne Clément is a profound mixture of sweetness, kindness, heartbreak and humour.
Paulette (Brigitte Fossey) an orphaned refugee from Paris in the midst of World War II is adopted by the Dolle family, where slightly older Michel (Georges Poujolly) taking her under his wing, a defacto sibling bond developing between the pair. Michel helps Paulette focuses her sadness into an obsession with crosses and a somewhat misguided understanding of faith.
A tale of War, displacement and grief viewed through the eyes of a child, where all the complex feels are encapsulated within the cross that sits atop your grave, be it the grave of a dog and earthworm or…people.
The Dolle family are so matter of fact in their adopting of young Paulette, and yet their class (or classless more like) war with their neighbours turns the act of grief into a competition, albeit a hilarious one, a practice equally as wrong-footed as Paulette’s own crucifixial obsession.
Somewhere in a mill barn, some 74 years later, you know that Owl is still watching over that necklace ❤️
