I’m heartbroken. Not because of the story of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, but everything else. I love musicals and thought its concept of every spoken line being sung was brilliant. I saw the bright, blooming colors and that this was a French movie and assumed that Jacques Demy foresaw my birth and created this movie just for me. Upon starting it, reality hit. It seems that the music was written before the dialogue, and every line sounds forced into the score with the same vocal melody and endless use of falsetto. Recommended—unexcitedly.