As the temperatures spike into the 90s, nobody on two or four feet wants to move a muscle. Instead I go to the movies with a great friend I met nearly 30 years ago, when I first moved to Saratoga and shared her horse for awhile. We opt for a frothy and charming little French confection about a wise and stoic donkey who helps to ground a quirky, lovelorn young woman.
My Donkey, My Lover, and I is the English title, but the original Antoinette dans les Cevennes is far better, because Antoinette rents Patrick the donkey from a trail-hiking outfitter in the Cevennes mountains. She’s a schoolteacher who’s having an affair with the father of one of her pupils; when her lover has to leave town because his wife has booked them on a mountain donkey-pack tour, Antoinette rashly decides to crash their family vacation. Of course she has no experience with equids, and of course Patrick refuses to budge for much of the early part of the trek. She pulls, she pushes. She begs, she curses. But soon she learns about him and talks to him — he’s a good listener — so they come to an understanding and develop a sweet companionship. The scenery is absolutely gorgeous, Patrick and another donkey named Lapin (or Rabbit) are excellent performers, and the human characters are delightful.
It’s no more than one inch deep, but it’s a blissful 90-minute escape from the blistering suns of August. And it’s donkeys on the big screen, so . . . opposable thumbs up.
No comments:
Post a Comment