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Sons and L'Enfant

Now that both my sons are back at university for another eight months I can recapture some of that Proustian concept of "lost time" . . . the time to reflect and to assess and to avoid what Proust defined as "the self-satisfaction felt by 'busy' men -- however idiotic their business -- at 'not having time' to do what you are doing".

Of course, there is nothing idiotic about raising children -- one of the toughest jobs of all when done well, and I think I do it well -- but also nothing wrong with wanting the time to think out loud on 'paper' (or maybe it is 'screen'?) about the not so trivial other things that are part of an intelligently lived life.

So . . . I was unimpressed with the French/Belgian film -- L'Enfant -- which won the Cannes Festival Palme d'Or in 2005, then played theToronto International Film Festival last year (which runs from September 7-16 this year). Usually I am a sucker for the intense humanism of many French/Belgian films (especially if they are set in Paris, which I love). But this one is simply too obvious, too enamored of the lingering close-up, too far from the tough reality of the street life it intends to show.

Justifying Journalism

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