Catherine Deneuve (Delphine) and Françoise Dorléac (Solange) are luminous and complementary. Deneuve’s restrained melancholy contrasts with Dorléac’s brighter vivacity, giving the film a central emotional axis. Their chemistry—both sisterly and distinct—grounds the film’s more fanciful elements. Supporting turns (Jacques Perrin, George Chakiris, and Michel Piccoli among them) add charm and poignancy, while Gene Kelly’s role as a worldly American choreographer provides a playful bridge to classic Hollywood musicals.
For decades, The Young Girls of Rochefort circulated in muddy, faded prints that did justice neither to the cinematography nor to Michel Legrand’s legendary score. The Criterion 1967 release changed the game.
Released on Blu-ray and DVD, the Criterion edition features a 4K digital restoration (supervised by cinematographer Jean Rabier before his passing). The difference is staggering. Rabier shot the film in Eastmancolor, a stock notoriously difficult to preserve. On older transfers, the pastels of Rochefort’s town square looked sickly. On the Criterion transfer, however, the oranges are electric, the turquoises are deep, and the primary reds of the twins’ wardrobe pop with three-dimensional depth.
Key features of the Criterion release include: The Young Girls of Rochefort -1967- Criterion -...
Unlike Umbrellas, where every line of dialogue is sung, Rochefort features a mix of spoken dialogue and musical numbers. The legendary composer Michel Legrand provides the score, which is jazzy, infectious, and unforgettable. Tracks like "You Must Believe in Spring" and the spirited main theme are staples of the French pop canon.
Visually, Demy and cinematographer Ghislain Cloquet transformed Rochefort. Much like the painted streets of Cherbourg, the production design is highly stylized. Shop fronts, buses, and walls were painted in bold primary colors to match the costumes, creating a hyper-real, storybook world. The Criterion restoration captures these pastel blues, pinks, and yellows with breathtaking vibrancy.
Criterion’s two-disc edition offers deep dives for cinephiles: The included booklet features an essay by critic
The included booklet features an essay by critic Jonathan Rosenbaum, who argues that Rochefort is Demy’s most deeply American film—not despite its Frenchness, but because it borrows the Hollywood musical’s utopian promise and subverts it with existential absence.
In the pantheon of movie musicals, there are the stone-cold classics of the Golden Age (Singin’ in the Rain), the gritty rock operas of the 1970s (Tommy), and then—suspended in a bubble of pure, phosphorescent joy—there is Jacques Demy’s The Young Girls of Rochefort (Les Demoiselles de Rochefort).
Released in 1967, this film is the sunlit counterweight to Demy’s own heartbreaking The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964). While Umbrellas used sung-through dialogue to explore the tragedy of lost love, Rochefort explodes onto the screen with the vibrancy of a freshly opened box of crayons. For decades, accessing this masterpiece in its full, intended glory was a challenge. That changed definitively with the release of The Young Girls of Rochefort -1967- Criterion edition. accessing this masterpiece in its full
The Criterion Collection, known for its laser-focused restoration and scholarly extras, has not merely released a film; they have resurrected a world. Here is why the 1967 Criterion release is the gold standard and why The Young Girls of Rochefort remains a vital, necessary work of art.
The Young Girls of Rochefort persists because it is joyful without being shallow; stylized without being abstract. It synthesizes French New Wave sensibilities—playful self-awareness, location shooting, youthful focus—with the spectacle and craftsmanship of classic musicals. Its influence is visible in later filmmakers who combine music, color, and romance with an auteur’s visual precision.
First-time viewers are often thrown by the film’s subplot: a murder mystery involving a traveling salesman and an art dealer. Why, in a candy-colored musical, does Demy include a severed head in a suitcase?
The Criterion edition’s liner notes (a sumptuous booklet featuring essays by critic Imogen Sara Smith) argue that the darkness is the point. The Young Girls of Rochefort is not naivety; it is willful optimism. The twins ignore the police, ignore the sordid reality of the missing man, because to acknowledge it would shatter the dream. Demy is showing that joy is a political act. In a world of murder and loneliness (represented by the cynical cafe owner), the choice to dance is heroic.
Jacques Demy’s The Young Girls of Rochefort (Les Demoiselles de Rochefort) is a sunlit, Technicolor hymn to youth, longing, and the buoyant possibilities of love. At once playful and wistful, the film is a masterclass in how musical films can marry visual design, choreography, and melody to create an emotional world that feels both stylized and deeply humane.