The JO Opening Ceremony

A roller coaster of all that is rich in the French culture

I almost regretted driving out of Paris at 5 a.m. the morning of the Opening Ceremony for the 2024 Olympics, to begin a trip planned a long while ago.  Reason had told me not to stay in the city, but I was like the kid looking backwards as we left, catching my last glimpses of a city dressed up for a huge party

Thus, when the bell rang to open the ceremony, I joined millions in front of a tv screen, accompanied by a small group of French friends.  And what transpired for the nearly four hours after that was a roller coaster depicting French culture at its best, an epic work by the now-famous artistic director, Thomas Jolly, who promised to create a “work of diversity and inclusion”, and not just “one France but many, celebrating the entire world united.”  To achieve his goal he worked with a novelist and a Medieval historian, singers, actors, producers, and choreographers, each the best of her/his class. I felt immense pride and emotion as I watched; what surprised me was that my often-cynical friends did as well.  No jokes, no derision, just unabashed awe.

Like a meal in a three-star restaurant here, the ceremony continued to outdo itself.  There is no other country I know, no other culture I’m familiar with, that combines such elegance, artistic value, daring, intellectual reference, challenge, shock-value, and silliness with such skill. And there was the significant nod to the highly-held and often fragile values upon which the Republic was built: Liberté, Egalite, Fraternité. But with something more. For these values were forever expanded to include “Sororité,” as we watched grandes, golden dames of French history rise from the Seine.

Some participants are like old friends: Jamel Debouz who brings forth laughter just by appearing, Zinedene Zidane racing through the streets and into the metro (for his first time, he said) in his suit and sneakers, Celine Dionne who has become an iconic symbol of talent and courage. Children are worshiped in France, and there they were taking over the flame; the spector from Arsène Lupin led us on a high-wire tour of the city; dancers waved about on toothpick-thin sticks; artisans repairing Notre Dame turned into graceful gymnasts; the gorgeous Lorraine ballet splashed through its stunningly conceived spectacle, and everyone seemed oblivious to the torrential rain (which the French press blamed on former president François Holland who was in attendance, because ceremonies during his reign were always rained out).

If you live in Paris, sightings of the majestic Republican Guard are regular events of pomp and circumstance as they ride, in full regalia, through the city streets.  Plumed helmets gleam, no hair is misplaced, no mane unbrushed.  One of my favorite scenes from the ceremony was the improbable pairing of  gold-clad Aya Nakamura, the Malian/French pop star and her dancers, with the Republican Guard band,  many of whom departed from their strict protocol to boogie along with the music.

I mostly don’t read commentaries of events like this, but I couldn’t help read the headline in the center left Le Monde today: “A country divided is now reunited, ” and even Jean-Luc Melenchon, from the extreme left, whose character defines contention over a yes or a no, gave his imprimatur to the event, as did the right-leaning publication Le Point, who celebrated it, and called it an “Event within an Event.” 

Much ink has been spilled about the event, not all of it positive but that, too, is French.  Taboos are brought into the open here, to be accepted or rejected, argued over but not hidden.  Leave each to her or his own judgement for I would say a good time was had by many, and I rest in my conviction that the French culture is far and beyond one of the richest in the world.