The notion of a haunted house is almost quaint to those who live in big cities, where there is barely room — literally and spiritually — for their own lives, much less the legacy of those that came before. Apartments especially turn over every couple of years instead of once a generation. The inflections of essentially temporary living are beyond what we can be conscious of, and meaningful consideration of the narrative history of one’s present, private habitat is among the many things omitted for space. Eleanor Roosevelt’s Union Square crash pad got a plaque, it’s true, but Bobby Fischer grew up in a building down the Brooklyn block from where I’m sitting now, and you’d never know it to pass by.
New York City’s over-tilled real estate acreage is a giant tenement museum compared to the stories locked inside the brick and mortar bones of Paris. One of those stories is the subject of Sarah’s Key, a disjointed unfurling of the history housed in a Marais apartment whose inhabitants — a family of four — were destroyed by their sudden evacuation on a July day in 1942. Young Sarah (Mélusine Mayance) and her parents were three of the 13,000 Jews rounded up over two days and confined to a sports arena known as the Vélodrome d’Hiver. (Another film on this subject, The Round-Up, starring Mélanie Laurent, is due out later this year.) Before being dragged from their home by the French police — the collusion of the police with the Nazi occupiers and the malignant indifference of their fellow…
Brittany Snow Brittny Gastineau Brody Dalle Brooke Burke Brooke Burns Busy Philipps Cameron Diaz
No comments:
Post a Comment