It shouldn’t work under any circumstances, this richly layered pastry of music, design, and heartache, and yet, for millions, it does. Why? The simple answer is that Demy, while courting and skirting self-indulgence at every turn, knew exactly how to pull it off. Perhaps the most apt word for the whole experience, in its music, color, and drama, is “saturation.” Everything is piled on like there’s no tomorrow, yet the excesses, when taken all together, balance each other out. From jazzy, hopeful beginning to icily sad finish, Umbrellas sustains its spell without seeming mechanical or overcalculated or, worse, insincere. For this, much credit must go to the prolific and gifted Legrand. He may be most recognized for the melodic gift so apparent in the big ballad known in the United States as “I Will Wait for You,” but his skill also extends to making something musically interesting out of even the simplest conversations between a girl and her mother, or a guy and his pals.
The cast, too, helps things along, with Deneuve and Castelnuovo looking both convincing and impossibly beautiful while mouthing all those musical lines. This was the role that made Deneuve a star, and not merely on account of her appearance. As for the auteur himself, Demy clearly revels in this self-contained world he’s created, even in the face of such unwelcome intrusions as life, pregnancy, and the Algerian war. Those who succumb to his vision will swoon at the romance and may, by the end of it, accede to his intention and have a good cry. The experience is far more an immersion than a wallow, and small wonder that some enterprising later musicals bear the Demy stamp in one way or another. La La Land is especially noteworthy in this regard, not least because director Damien Chazelle has cited Umbrellas as his favorite film.
Obviously, this special and specialized film is not for all audiences, nor even for all musical aficionados. Its hypnotic allure has always made it a film apart, and those who adore it would not have things any other way.
Nino Castelnuovo and Catherine Deneuve
Catherine Deneuve and Nino Castelnuovo
Director Jacques Demy and Catherine Deneuve on the set
The hardest part for the actors came in coordinating their performances to a soundtrack that had already predetermined their delivery and much of their movement. Demy and Legrand decided that it would help them to actually sing along with the recording during filming, to deepen their connection to the music and produce convincing throat movements. Do it loud, Legrand advised them, and scream if necessary. They followed his directions dutifully, and the composer’s opinion of how they sounded while doing so was quite to the point: “It was awful.”
As if there wasn’t enough sensory overload from the soundtrack, Demy also wanted a similar effect from the visuals. To that end, he worked with production designer Bernard Evein in much the same way that he did with Legrand, coordinating the colors as much as the musical lines. As any viewer of Umbrellas will attest, there are few movies where wallpaper plays a more prominent role, especially when its color or even its pattern matches a performer’s costume. Demy’s desire was to create, as he termed it “a singing Matisse,” and it must be admitted that, in a very 1960s Pop Art sort of way, this is exactly what he did.
Although much of the music in Umbrellas would be categorized as sung speech instead of stand-alone songs, two moments of the score were successfully excerpted. Both were outfitted with English lyrics by Norman Gimbel, and “I Will Wait for You” was Oscar-nominated as Best Song. The second, bouncier Legrand tune had originally been written for Demy’s Lola and found international popularity as “Watch What Happens.” It was largely because of this pair, and Umbrellas, that Legrand became one of the busiest and most identifiable film composers of all time.
Catherine Deneuve and Anne Vernon