 | I can't make an Objectivist case for this movie as dramatic art, but the experience of putting one's emotions through a workout from the safety of a theater seat can be worth seeking out for its own sake. If that's what Aristotle and subsequent centuries of literati mean by "pity and terror" or "catharsis," then this movie taught me more than Aeschylus did.
The events are almost always grim, the few exceptions being setups for something worse to come (such as the romance with Marcel Cerdan). The movie is one of those spectacles we simultaneously can't bear to watch and can't turn away from. The reasons to see it are the central performance and the sound track, Edith Piaf's own recordings digitally cleaned up.
To cite the classic Randian dictum, I might not want to meet Piaf in real life, but I sure wish I could have seen her perform.
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