I saw Porte des Lilas, called The Gates of Paris in English, back in 1957 - fresh out of high school fascinated with foreign films, especially of the French and Italians. Maybe because I was an awkward and romantic teenager myself, I must have related to the awkward and romantic Juju, the oafish man in love with the beautiful girl, frustrated by her mis-directed love for the deceitful but charismatic hoodlum. Clair was a wonderful filmmaker, and I have always remembered this film vividly. It was Paris and romance and danger to me.
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