Plenty has been written about Jean Renoir, by himself and others. Nevertheless a new book on the filmmaker is always received with interest. After all, Renoir was not only a true artist himself but also the son of one; he made some universally beloved movies; he had cinematic careers in both the old world and the new, in Paris and in Hollywood; he became in his later years a popular Los Angelino whose house was a gathering place for Gallic Hollywood, as well as a site of pilgrimage for young cineasts from all over; he had a long life, and was eager and able to talk about it; he remained youthful in spirit to the end, even in spite of declining health. He was a genius and a nice man—a rare enough combination.

Human, all too human, is the aroma emanating from his persona and his oeuvre.

Renoir’s fame rests on relatively few films, of which only two...

 

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