Historically the commercial capital of Canada, Montreal was surpassed in population and in economic strength by Toronto in the 1970s.[26] It remains an important centre of commerce, aerospace, transport, finance, pharmaceuticals, technology, design, education, art, culture, tourism, food, fashion, gaming, film, and world affairs. Montreal has the second-highest number of consulates in North America,[27] serves as the location of the headquarters of the International Civil Aviation Organization, and was named a UNESCO City of Design in 2006.[28][29] In 2017, Montreal was ranked the 12th most liveable city in the world by the Economist Intelligence Unit in its annual Global Liveability Ranking,[30] and the best city in the world to be a university student in the QS World University Rankings.[31]
Industries include aerospace, electronic goods, pharmaceuticals, printed goods, software engineering, telecommunications, textile and apparel manufacturing, tobacco, petrochemicals, and transportation. The service sector is also strong and includes civil, mechanical and process engineering, finance, higher education, and research and development. In 2002, Montreal was the fourth-largest centre in North America in terms of aerospace jobs.[136] The Port of Montreal is one of the largest inland ports in the world handling 26 million tonnes of cargo annually.[137] As one of the most important ports in Canada, it remains a transshipment point for grain, sugar, petroleum products, machinery, and consumer goods. For this reason, Montreal is the railway hub of Canada and has always been an extremely important rail city; it is home to the headquarters of the Canadian National Railway,[138] and was home to the headquarters of the Canadian Pacific Railway until 1995.[139] 

The overall crime rate in Montreal has declined, with a few notable exceptions, with murders at the lowest rate since 1972 (23 murders in 2016).[202] Sex crimes have increased 14.5 percent between 2015 and 2016 and fraud cases have increased by 13 percent over the same period.[202] The major criminal organizations active in Montreal are the Rizzuto crime family, Hells Angels and West End Gang.
In November 1959, Van Dyke made his Broadway debut in The Girls Against the Boys. He then played the lead role of Albert Peterson in Bye Bye Birdie, which ran from April 14, 1960, to October 7, 1961. In a May 2011 interview with Rachael Ray, Van Dyke said that when he auditioned for a smaller part in the show he had no experience as a dancer, and that after he sang his audition song he did an impromptu soft-shoe out of sheer nervousness. Gower Champion, the show's director and choreographer, was watching, and promptly went up on stage to inform Van Dyke he had the lead. An astonished Van Dyke protested that he could not dance, to which Champion replied: "We'll teach you". That musical won four Tony awards including Van Dyke's Best Featured Actor Tony, in 1961.[16] In 1980, Van Dyke appeared as the title role in the first Broadway revival of The Music Man.[17]
We had a little ranch way out in the middle of nowhere. My wife didn't like showbusiness - as most spouses don't: they get shunted aside. But it was too soon for me. I could not afford either emotionally or financially to quit and retire. Not in my forties. We finally parted company because of that. And now another forty years have gone by and I've been very busy. I still am.
On 27 July 1890, aged 37, Van Gogh shot himself in the chest with a 7mm Lefaucheux à broche revolver.[187][188] There were no witnesses and he died 30 hours after the incident.[161] The shooting may have taken place in the wheat field in which he had been painting, or a local barn.[189] The bullet was deflected by a rib and passed through his chest without doing apparent damage to internal organs – probably stopped by his spine. He was able to walk back to the Auberge Ravoux, where he was attended to by two doctors, but without a surgeon present the bullet could not be removed. The doctors tended to him as best they could, then left him alone in his room, smoking his pipe. The following morning Theo rushed to his brother's side, finding him in good spirits. But within hours Vincent began to fail, suffering from an untreated infection resulting from the wound. He died in the early hours of 29 July. According to Theo, Vincent's last words were: "The sadness will last forever".[190][191][192][193]
Vincent van Gogh, in full Vincent Willem van Gogh, (born March 30, 1853, Zundert, Netherlands—died July 29, 1890, Auvers-sur-Oise, near Paris, France), Dutch painter, generally considered the greatest after Rembrandt van Rijn, and one of the greatest of the Post-Impressionists. The striking colour, emphatic brushwork, and contoured forms of his work powerfully influenced the current of Expressionism in modern art. Van Gogh’s art became astoundingly popular after his death, especially in the late 20th century, when his work sold for record-breaking sums at auctions around the world and was featured in blockbuster touring exhibitions. In part because of his extensive published letters, van Gogh has also been mythologized in the popular imagination as the quintessential tortured artist.
Vincent van Gogh wrote over 800 letters in his lifetime to family and friends the majority of which were to his beloved brother Theo Van Gogh. The letters provide insight to the life of the artist as well as his work. They allow us to know more about his life, how he thought and how he worked than nearly any other artist. In the Letters section, you can learn more about the significance of Vincent van Gogh's letters and find a link to a resource containing Van Gogh's translated letters.
Montreal is at the centre of the Montreal Metropolitan Community, and is bordered by the city of Laval to the north; Longueuil, Saint-Lambert, Brossard, and other municipalities to the south; Repentigny to the east and the West Island municipalities to the west. The anglophone enclaves of Westmount, Montreal West, Hampstead, Côte Saint-Luc, the Town of Mount Royal and the francophone enclave Montreal East are all surrounded by Montreal.[76]
During World War II, Mayor Camillien Houde protested against conscription and urged Montrealers to disobey the federal government's registry of all men and women.[64] The Government, part of the Allied forces, was furious over Houde's stand and held him at a prison camp until 1944.[65] That year the government decided to institute conscription to expand the armed forces and fight the Nazis. (See Conscription Crisis of 1944.)[64]
Van Gogh's fame reached its first peak in Austria and Germany before World War I,[281] helped by the publication of his letters in three volumes in 1914.[282] His letters are expressive and literate, and have been described as among the foremost 19th-century writings of their kind.[9] These began a compelling mythology of Van Gogh as an intense and dedicated painter who suffered for his art and died young.[283] In 1934, the novelist Irving Stone wrote a biographical novel of Van Gogh's life titled Lust for Life, based on Van Gogh's letters to Theo. This novel and the 1956 film further enhanced his fame, especially in the United States where Stone surmised only a few hundred people had heard of van Gogh prior to his surprise best-selling book.[284][285]
The Montreal Oil Refining Centre is the largest refining centre in Canada, with companies like Petro-Canada, Ultramar, Gulf Oil, Petromont, Ashland Canada, Parachem Petrochemical, Coastal Petrochemical, Interquisa (Cepsa) Petrochemical, Nova Chemicals, and more. Shell decided to close the refining centre in 2010, throwing hundreds out of work and causing an increased dependence on foreign refineries for eastern Canada.
People in the UK love to rib me about my accent, I will never live it down. They ask what part of England I was meant to be from and I say it was a little shire in the north where most of the people were from Ohio. I was working with an entire English cast and nobody said a word, not Julie, not anybody said I needed to work on it so I thought I was alright.

The Montreal Oil Refining Centre is the largest refining centre in Canada, with companies like Petro-Canada, Ultramar, Gulf Oil, Petromont, Ashland Canada, Parachem Petrochemical, Coastal Petrochemical, Interquisa (Cepsa) Petrochemical, Nova Chemicals, and more. Shell decided to close the refining centre in 2010, throwing hundreds out of work and causing an increased dependence on foreign refineries for eastern Canada.
Fifteen canvases depict cypresses, a tree he became fascinated with in Arles.[247] He brought life to the trees, which were traditionally seen as emblematic of death.[215] The series of cypresses he began in Arles featured the trees in the distance, as windbreaks in fields; when he was at Saint-Rémy he brought them to the foreground.[248] Vincent wrote to Theo in May 1889: "Cypresses still preoccupy me, I should like to do something with them like my canvases of sunflowers"; he went on to say, "They are beautiful in line and proportion like an Egyptian obelisk."[249]
Montreal has a storied baseball history. The city was the home of the minor-league Montreal Royals of the International League until 1960. In 1946 Jackie Robinson broke the baseball colour barrier with the Royals in an emotionally difficult year; Robinson was forever grateful for the local fans' fervent support.[189] Major League Baseball came to town in the form of the Montreal Expos in 1969. They played their games at Jarry Park until moving into Olympic Stadium in 1977. After 36 years in Montreal, the team relocated to Washington, D.C. in 2005 and re-branded themselves as the Washington Nationals.[190] Discussions about MLB returning to Montreal remain active.[191]
Now, I'm not saying that European artists are kind of crazy, but Hitler was known to paint from time to time, and while that isn't to say that Vincent van Gogh was as crazy as Hitler, it is to say that he has mutilated himself for some girl he had a crush on, and that's all that needs to be said. Well, I don't know about any other kind of European artist, but the French appear to be insane when it comes to the art filmmaking, what with all of their weird and melodramatic experiments with storytelling, which is why this film's writer and director, Maurice Pialat, is trying something different by keeping things realist and, by extension, kind of dull. No, people, this film isn't really all that bland, or at least it isn't up until an admittedly kind of dull final act, and not just because you can't help but wonder just how slow the final product would have been if it was yet another overly arty French filmmaking mess, but the fact of the matter is that real life isn't too terribly exciting, even when the real life you're meditating upon is that of a somewhat disturbed... Dutch painter of the 19th century. Well, shoot, now that I think about it, this film's subject matter doesn't even sound all that exciting on paper, so I reckon that's why Pialat got Jacques Dutronc, a French pop-rock star, to play van Gogh, as he hoped that Dutronc would get people to think of delightful French diddies to keep them from getting too bored, which would be great and all if it wasn't for the fact that I kept expecting van Gogh to bust out an acoustic guitar and start singing "Et Moi, Et Moi, Et Moi". I wonder whose facial expression is the most hilarious: that of the few people who think that I'm serious about expecting a van Gogh musical number, or that of the countless people who have absolutely no idea who in the world I'm talking about. So yeah, Dutronc was essentially the French Bob Dylan, and then he moved into being the French Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd, then your regular old traditional French pop-rock star, then a French crooner, then, I don't know, the prime minister of France or something, and now, well, I don't know what he's up to. Quite frankly, I don't carry, just as long as he's still a good actor, because he sure could carry a film as sure as he can carry a note, and yet, with that said, it's not like this film can fully paint over its problems. Don't let this film's fairly broad title fool you, as this film chronicles, not the full life and times of the late, great Vincent van Go, but the painter's notorious last 67 days, during which an enging story is found, though, in this film, not quite as fleshed out as it probably should be, for although we're all hopefully aware of Vincent van Gogh, and although I'm not asking that this film crowbar more material into its already overlong two-and-a-half-hour runtime to give more flesh-out to our characters, the film feels underdeveloped. Sure, eventual exposition does a decent job of getting you used to the happenings and humans who drive this drama, while Maurice Pialat's realist atmosphere further bonds you with the film's humanity, but more immediate flesh-out stands to be more abundant, because as things stand, development shortcomings in this film do damage to engagement value, which further suffers at the hands of the very realist approach that helps in compensating for exposition issues. There's only so much dramatic kick to this dramatization of a dramatic period (Drama, drama, drama and more drama), as Pialat wishes to not water down subjet matter of this type with histrionics and articifial emotional resonance, and more often than not this dramatic formula works, but it's not without its problems, including an atmosphere that isn't as dry as I feared, - thanks to reasonably spirited writing and acting keeping entertainment value up, at least to a certain extent - but not exactly frantic, being just restrained enough to, after a while, lose you, at least momentarily. If this film's atmospheric slow spells do nothing else, they call more to attention the film's biggest issue: padding, because at 158 minutes of only one segment out of a story that is undoubtedly rich with dramatic potential, this film outstays its welcome a bit, reinforcing realism with the occasional needless moment of nothingness, if not more than a few moments in which material gets to be a bit too fatty around the edges, typically of a somewhat familiar nature. It's not monotonous, but this film's excessive formula gets to be repetitious, leaving the film to wander along, seemingly in circles, with enough intrigue to keep you compelled through and through, though not with enough dynamic kick to keep you really locked in. This film is a very human one, and I commend it for having such humanity, and spicing it all up with an active attention to genuineness over melodrama, but much too often, this film's realist meandering goes a bit too far, slowing down the momentum of the film, both in atmospheric pacing and plot structure, but still not taking as much time as it probably should to really flesh things out, and that does a number on the final product. Of course, when it's all said and done, the film's issues, while undeniable, aren't quite as considerable as they could have been, so it's not like you should go into this film expecting the usual underwhelming misfire you can find on a list of Cannes Film Festival highlights, but rather, a genuinely rewarding film, with effectiveness than can be found even within the smallest of aspects. Actively resistent against overly cinematic sensibilities, this film very rarely plays up musiciality, which, upon actually coming up, outside of a nice little jingle at the credits, is found, not in post-production, but in first-party audio, something that is, as you can imagine, rarely accompanied by the piano and occasional band that drive what musical aspects there are in this film, so it's not like this film is driven by its soundtrack, but when music is, in fact, played up, it makes its limited time with us count by livening up atmosphere, though not so much so that Pialat contradicts his noable realist intentions. These musical moments, as well as all too limited occasions in which cinematographers Gilles Henry and Emmanuel Machuel find an attractive visual to play up, are rather rarely explored in this opus whose artistic value is most driven by storytelling artistry, but they are here, punching up the engagement value behind a story that is strong enough to carry itself on its own, as reflected by the fact that it, well, mostly has to carry itself on its own. There's not a whole lot of build-up to this particularly intriguing final chapter to an intriguing life, yet that doesn't stop the chapter in question for running a touch too long, but no matter how underdeveloped or overlong this film's story is, it is intriguing on paper, alone, with plenty of dramatic potential that isn't too extensively played up, but played up just enough within Maurice Pialat's clever script for you to gain an adequate understanding of this film's characterization and progression. Pialat's writing isn't outstanding, but it is commendable in its wit and realism, which helps in bringing the intriguing behind this film's worthy subject matter to life, and is itself brought to life by inspiration with Pialat's direction, whose restraint all too often does damage to pacing and atmospheric bite, but all but works wonders when heavier material falls into play and is not overplayed, but rather presented with enough inimtate genuineness for you to bond with the film's happenings and dramatic aspects, no matter how realistically restrained they are. No, people, the film won't exactly be jamming on your heartstrings, as this is not that kind of film that would play up cinematic dramatic touches, going driven by a very realist genuineness that could have been executed all wrong and left you utterly distanced from the final product, but is ultimately backed by enough inspiration for you to be sold on this world. What further sells you on the humanity behind this very human drama is, of course, the acting, which is strong in most everyone, but arguably at its strongest within leading man Jacques Dutronc, who, even then, isn't given a whole lot to work with, thanks to this film's being relatively held back in its portrayal of Vincent van Gogh's infamous mental and emotional health issues, but convinces consistently as the legendary artist, and when material is, in fact, called in, Dutronc plays with effective emotional range to further convince you of the layers and depths behind this brilliant and unstable soul. The film isn't thoroughly enthralling, nor is it even as powerful as it probably would have been if it was tighter, more fleshed out and - dare I say it? - more celebratory of dramatic aspects, rather than entirely realist, but where this effort could have fallen flat as underwhelming and too carried away with its uniqueness, like so many other meditative dramas you find at Cannes, inspiration behind restrained artistry proves to be compelling enough to make this film a reward one. When the final stroke comes, you're left with a portrait of Vincent van Gogh that stands to take more time with immediate development, and less time meditating on excess material that is made all the worse by a somewhat dryly slow atmospheric pacing, and sparks the repetition that could have driven the final product into underwhelmingness, but is ultimately battled back enough to keep you compelled, because whether it be spawned from such ever so rare atmospheric compliments as lovely music, or spawned from inspired writing, direction and writing that bring an intriguingly worthy story to life, there is enough kick to engagement value to make Maurice Pialat's "Van Gogh" a surprisingly consistently engaging realist drama that may have its natural shortcomings, but ultimately stands as worth watching. 3/5 - Good
Poverty may have pushed Sien back into prostitution; the home became less happy and Van Gogh may have felt family life was irreconcilable with his artistic development. Sien gave her daughter to her mother, and baby Willem to her brother.[79] Willem remembered visiting Rotterdam when he was about 12, when an uncle tried to persuade Sien to marry to legitimise the child.[80] He believed Van Gogh was his father, but the timing of his birth makes this unlikely.[81] Sien drowned herself in the River Scheldt in 1904.[82]
Van Gogh returned home a fortnight later and resumed painting, producing a mirror-image Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear and Pipe, several still lifes, and La Berceuse (Woman Rocking a Cradle; Augustine-Alix Pellicot Roulin, 1851–1930). Several weeks later, he again showed symptoms of mental disturbance severe enough to cause him to be sent back to the hospital. At the end of April 1889, fearful of losing his renewed capacity for work, which he regarded as a guarantee of his sanity, he asked to be temporarily shut up in the asylum at Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in order to be under medical supervision.
He wrote that they represented his "sadness and extreme loneliness", and that the "canvases will tell you what I cannot say in words, that is, how healthy and invigorating I find the countryside".[184] Wheatfield with Crows, although not his last oil work, is from July 1890 and Hulsker discusses it as being associated with "melancholy and extreme loneliness".[185] Hulsker identifies seven oil paintings from Auvers that follow the completion of Wheatfield with Crows.[186]
Vincent van Gogh is arguably one of the most famous and influential post-impressionist painters in the history of western art. Van Gogh is most noted for his work that evokes beauty, emotion and color bringing his personal expression to life through his art. With over 2,100 pieces of artwork produced from his decade long career, Vans worked closely with the Van Gogh Museum team to select four main bodies of work that speaks to the creative ethos of Vans’ design as well as personal moments from the artist familial history. Skull, Almond Blossom, Sunflowers and Van Gogh’s self-portrait are celebrated through an extensive Vans collection, showcasing some of Van Gogh’s most revered artwork in a new way.  
In 1887, Vincent experimented with the pointillist technique espoused by Seurat, who used it in such works as A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. In one of his many self-portraits: Self Portrait with Grey Felt Hat, Vincent utilizes tiny points of light-reflecting color to reveal a sharp-featured man with the world-weary expression of someone who has seen more than his share of hardship.
Montreal is at the centre of the Montreal Metropolitan Community, and is bordered by the city of Laval to the north; Longueuil, Saint-Lambert, Brossard, and other municipalities to the south; Repentigny to the east and the West Island municipalities to the west. The anglophone enclaves of Westmount, Montreal West, Hampstead, Côte Saint-Luc, the Town of Mount Royal and the francophone enclave Montreal East are all surrounded by Montreal.[76]
Van Dyke left high school in 1944, his senior year, intending to join the United States Army Air Forces for pilot training during World War II. Denied enlistment several times for being underweight, he was eventually accepted for service as a radio announcer before transferring to the Special Services and entertaining troops in the continental United States.[11] He received his high school diploma in 2004 at the age of 78.[12]
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