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27.3.04

Monsieur Ibrahim et les Fleurs du Coran, cont.
Contributed by Charles T. Downey at 9:47 AM | Link to this article
Fortunately, Omar Sharif did not die of shame, allowing him to read Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt's adaptation of his own play, Monsieur Ibrahim et les Fleurs du Coran (Mr. Ibrahim and the Flowers of the Koran). The main attraction of the movie is its setting in the Rue Bleue area of Paris in the 1960s, where a Jewish teenager named Moïse, nicknamed Momo (played by newcomer Pierre Boulanger), living under the oppressive control of his depressed father, finds a breath of fresh air in Monsieur Ibrahim, the Turkish grocer who owns the shop across the street. Momo's other release is found in visits to the local prostitutes (who are as permanent in their location on the street as the buildings), the first of which is the focus of the opening sequence, showing the 13-year-old cracking open his piggy bank, changing the coins for notes at Monsieur Ibrahim's grocery, and rehearsing his opening lines in the mirror.

Momo's father has a collection of valuable books, which he insists be kept in darkness, and obsessively controls the household money. As he begins to steal from Monsieur Ibrahim's grocery, to cut corners on his food budget, the old man takes the boy under his wing, turning a blind eye to his shoplifting and even advising him to give his father cat food and call it pâté. (Momo's father loses his job and abandons his son, leaving only a note and a pile of money: he is subsequently found, after having committed suicide under a train in Marseilles.) All of this should be very depressing, but we follow Momo's voyage into Monsieur Ibrahim's view of the world. In a hilarious sequence lampooning the French bureaucracy (a series of sour-faced fonctionnaires say "Non," one after another), Monsieur Ibrahim is finally able to adopt Momo legally.

The area of Paris around the Rue Bleue, at the boundaries of the 9th, 10th, and 2nd arrondissements, is near some of the dicier parts of the city, the Grands Boulevards, the Gare du Nord, and the Gare de l'Est. One of the most touching sequences in the movie is when Monsieur Ibrahim and Momo take a walk through Paris together: they stroll along the quais of the Seine and have a drink at a café. For Momo, "living in Paris" would be like a dream, he says; what he means is that the distance between this "real Paris" (where wealthy people live and tourists wander) and the Rue Bleue is too great. Fulfilling a long-held dream, Monsieur Ibrahim buys a red convertible sportscar, and they set off for his village back in Turkey. This road-trip sequence is beautiful and rich in evocative power, especially as the characters cross the Dardanelles on a ferry, listening to the call of the muezzin from the minarets of Istanbul, and as they drive east through Turkey, visiting Orthodox, Catholic, and Muslim shrines and seeing a Dervish ceremony.

The movie's main attraction for me, of course, was the chance to look at a recreation of 1960s Paris, accomplished mostly through the careful placement of old cars and a soundtrack of that era's pop music in France. Listening to the radio is Momo's great solace and, simultaneously, a way to annoy his father. All in all, Monsieur Ibrahim is a fun and poignant tribute to that hopeful and turbulent time.

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