One of the giddiest flicks to emerge from the French New Wave, this 1962 wonder by Agnès Varda is also the era’s most affectionate ode to urban life. Here, the streets of Paris teem with happy accidents, unexpected wonders and other events and images that yield ephemeral insights (highlighted by the Bloor’s presentation of Cleo from 5 to 7 in a freshly restored 35mm print).

Roughly covering the late-afternoon time span described in the title, Varda’s film follows closely at the heels of Cleo (Corinne Marchand), a pop singer and oh-so-stylish habitué of various Latin Quarter hotspots. Though she initially seems vain and neurotic, she’s gradually revealed to be a more sensitive sort of soul. Pending news of a medical exam casts a pall over the movie’s many lighthearted divertissements, including an impromptu musical session and a faux silent comedy short with Jean-Luc Godard doing his best impression of Harold Lloyd.

Though the film loses some of its fizz during Cleo’s last-act encounter with a soldier on leave from Algeria, Varda’s second feature remains easy to savour. It may also be cinema’s most incandescent expression of “Paris, je t’aime.”