Film: Two In The Wave Release date: 11th April 2011 Certificate: 12 Running time: 91 mins Director: Emmanuel Laurent Starring: Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard Genre: Documentary Studio: New Wave Format: DVD Country: France
The pioneering figures of French New Wave cinema, Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut are nothing short of legends in the world of film. Their idealistic, youthful cinema inspired generations of filmmakers, both in Europe and Hollywood. Now, director Emmanuel Laurent, once the editor of Cahiers du Cinema, brings together film archives and documents to reveal the turbulent relationship between the two men.
Grainy archive footage shows Truffaut’s seminal film, The 400 Blows, triumphing at the Cannes Film Festival. A present-day, nameless girl studies newspaper cuttings. Narrator Antoine de Baecque (also the writer) introduces, in a roundabout way, New Wave cinema and its protagonists, Truffaut and Godard. Told almost exclusively through the use of archive footage, both of the men and of their films, the documentary charts their family backgrounds, their work as critics for the Cahiers du Cinema and the relationship forged between them.
Interview clips reveal a typically French, philosophical approach to filmmaking – Godard explains how cinema blurs the lines between art and reality – and excerpts from their films, particularly The 400 Blows and Godard’s Breathless, show how their philosophy developed in their work. At this point, the two were great friends and worked closely together, often with the young actor Jean-Pierre Leaud as their muse, but de Baecque hints at the differences between them. While Godard sees cinema in a social sense, reconciling it with reality and all that goes with it, Truffaut is intent on producing a poetic narrative, a great piece of cinema, a work of art. More footage then introduces the riots which paralysed France in May 1968 and which reached to the heart of cinema, and reveals the events which led to that dramatic rupture in the New Wave movement...
The documentary aims to show the personal story behind one of the most interesting and exciting periods of French cinema. It is clear that Laurent and de Baecque (a film historian) know their subject intimately and have done their research. The sheer wealth of archive footage and the way it is woven together demonstrates this. However, the story is told so dispassionately that the viewer never feels like they get any real insight into Truffaut and Godard.
One of the problems is that the New Wave has been so well-documented, with so many books and films about it, that in order to add anything new to the subject, a documentary would have to be innovative and extraordinary. This is neither. The delivery is in a very straightforward, history-channel manner and it continues in that vein for the entire ninety minutes. This style might work in some contexts, but here, given the fact that it is discussing two non-conformist, pioneering, creative individuals, it is unintentionally ironic.
The inescapable fact is that this is a French film about French film, so has a slightly desperate air of nostalgia about it, rather than looking to be creative. Not all retrospectives feel like this, but here, although the story is about Truffaut and Godard, there is a real sense that it is looking wistfully back at the glory days of French cinema. To understand Godard’s philosophy or Truffaut’s narrative, how they worked together and what could have caused them to fall out, it would be far more powerful to watch one of their films. Their own work gives a far greater insight into them than this collection of archive footage does.
One completely baffling element of the film is the mute girl that the film cuts to every so often, with an arty close-up of her face, then of her hands turning over pages of newspaper cuttings about Truffaut and Godard. She then goes for a wander around Paris, pausing outside a cinema we later see in the archive footage. At first, her presence in the film looks like it’s taking us in a different direction, but actually she has no real purpose at all. Perhaps she is supposed to connect the viewer with the archives, therefore making them more immediate, as if her interest in the story will rub off on us. In fact, these scenes merely provoke puzzlement as to their inclusion, leaving the viewer more removed than ever.
The documentary gets some things right. The interview clips, particularly of Godard, are interesting and hook the viewer in momentarily. Equally, for viewers looking for an introduction to New Wave Cinema, the social background and its key figures, there is a lot of clearly presented, accurate information here. It just does not go that step further and add anything new or any perceptive ideas, and it lacks the lustre to make it really incisive and enjoyable. There are books which bring this movement and its personalities to life with more passion and zeal. Films about film are difficult to pull off and sadly this one does not manage it particularly well.
New Wave aficionados and die-hard fans of Truffaut and Godard will find delight in the wealth of archive footage, but as a film and a contribution to French cinema, Two In The Wave leaves a lot to be desired. KS
Two In The Wave is the story of a friendship and of a break-up. Jean-Luc Godard was born in 1930; Francois Truffaut two years later. Love of movies brings them together. They write in the same magazines, Cahiers du Cinema and Arts.
When the younger of the two becomes a filmmaker with Les 400 coups (The 400 Blows), which triumphs in Cannes in 1959, he helps his older friend shift to directing, offering him a screenplay which already has a title, A bout de souffle (Breathless). Through the 1960s, the two loyally support each other.
History and politics separate them in 1968, and afterwards - when Godard plunges into radical politics but Truffaut continues his career as before. Between the two of them, the actor Jean-Pierre Léaud is torn like a child caught between two separated and warring parents. Their friendship and their break-up embody the story of French cinema.
Exploring the letters, personal archives and films of the two New Wave directors, Two In The Wave takes us back to a prodigious decade that transformed the world of cinema.
Film: Two In The Wave Release date: 11th April 2011 Certificate: TBC Running time: 91 mins Director: Emmanuel Laurent Starring: Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard Genre: Documentary Studio: New Wave Format: DVD Country: France
Film: Two In The Wave Release date: 11th February 2011 Certificate: TBC Running time: 91 mins Director: Emmanuel Laurent Starring: Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard Genre: Documentary Studio: New Wave Format: Cinema Country: France
Two In The Wave documents the relationship between arguably the two most influential artists of the French New Wave movement, François Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard. The film principally focuses on the ideals celebrated by both, uniting them in friendship, and the point at which this friendship dissolves instigating the end of the Nouvelle Vague era. However, instead of a story of collaboration and teamwork, Emmanuel Laurent presents us with a film about two quite different forces running parallel for a while, until they inevitably go their separate ways. Cannes Film Festival, 1959, sees the success of a film called 400 Blows, the first of François Truffaut’s and France’s New Wave feature films. Despite a complete rejection of the old and respected cinematic ways, 400 Blows is received with enthusiastic salutations; the coming of a new, more real filming style is drawn in to the bosom of the French film world, changing cinema forever.
The documentary’s opening scenes show footage taken at the time of the festival, and from here, with our touring guide, Antoine de Baecque as narrator, we are taken on a general chronological journey of the beginnings of the New Wave period to the end of it.
Through interviews, film clips and newspaper snippets, we track the progression of Truffaut and Godard from boys enamoured with the big screen, sampling films in their hundreds, and starting film clubs and societies along the way. Their rapture in cinema leads them to jobs writing for film magazine Cahiers du Cinema, under Editor-in-Chief and mentor André Bazin, and from there, they formed alliances and gained respect, leading to everlasting careers in filmmaking.
Influenced and utilised by both artists, actor Jean-Pierre Leaud, star of 400 Blows (and Truffaut’s on-screen autobiographical representation), becomes torn between the two; and eventually, “his voyage with two fathers of the New Wave…ends on a sad note.”
The artists finally go their own separate ways after the May 1968 student and worker strikes in France, and depart on hostile terms. Via aggressive correspondence, Godard scolds Truffaut for his “lack of critique,” while he, on the other hand, becomes more and more politically motivated in the making of his films. The two never meet again...
By and large, the artists talk of the same ideals and principles behind New Wave cinema, however, although they may have come to the same conclusion, we are shown how their motivations were quite different, and how that caused a divide between them.
Godard came from a good, wealthy family, and we see him in photographs on the shores of Lake Leman in Switzerland where he grew up. Truffaut, however, had a lonely and unhappy youth, and having been through prison twice, was “saved by cinema” as a form of education. For Godard, it was more a “school of life,” of what could come from it and the reaction it could achieve. By comparing their backgrounds, Laurent affords the viewer to better understand what inevitably drove the two apart by what was rooted in their psyche; for one, cinema was above all a pure aesthetic medium – a way of life - and for the other, it was a platform for socio-political representation.
Laurent supplies us with old interview footage of Truffaut and Godard, of which we receive images of two very different people. Godard, a year older than Truffaut, spoke with a closed mouth, wore dark glasses, and had a grave countenance. Truffaut painted quite a different picture. A friendlier expression hosted a sense of enthusiasm and warmth. We see in selected clips he often fiddles with something in his hands whilst answering a question – a slight nervousness implying innocence. He has an altogether more welcoming character.
Consciously or not, these chosen clips suggest Laurent, certainly, has a more hospitable view of Truffaut, and this is also seen amongst other material included in the documentary. When Truffaut succeeds at Cannes with 400 Blows, Laurent includes a remark from Godard; “Truffaut’s a b**tard. No thought for me!” And it is Truffaut who has the last word of the two in the film. In Two in the Wave, a more sympathetic view of Truffaut is begot, and fans of Godard may find slight contention here.
The documentary itself is evidently made for those familiar with New Wave cinema; if you haven’t seen a film with ‘l’essence de Nouvelle Vague’, this film doesn’t provide a text book study. However, those familiar with the genre might appreciate Laurent’s subtle salutes of homage in the use of French actress Isild Le Besco. As she silently studies erstwhile newspapers and magazines, long, clean close ups of her face occupy the screen; and as she visits former New Wave points of interest, a hand-held camera accompanies her on the streets of Paris.
The chosen footage in the film leaves no gaps for concern. It helps that there are a lot of interviews with the two main men; first hand footage of the subjects allows for a better understanding of who they were, and the viewer doesn’t feel they are being dictated an essay. What may have been beneficial in making the documentary more complete would have been the inclusion of films pre-New Wave, or even some influential Italian Neorealist material, for example. There is also limited information on other New Wave artists and their work - it is obvious Laurent doesn’t want to detract too much from the relationship he sees as key in the dynamics of French New Wave cinema.
The story of Truffaut and Godard is respectfully told in this interesting and informative documentary, however, there is a pro-Truffaut feeling. Laurent allows us an insight in to the motivations that first sparked and then felled a friendship, giving energy to one of the most influential movements in film history. MI
Two In The Wave is the story of a friendship and of a break-up. Jean-Luc Godard was born in 1930; Francois Truffaut two years later. Love of movies brings them together. They write in the same magazines, Cahiers du Cinema and Arts.
When the younger of the two becomes a filmmaker with Les 400 coups (The 400 Blows), which triumphs in Cannes in 1959, he helps his older friend shift to directing, offering him a screenplay which already has a title, A bout de souffle (Breathless). Through the 1960s, the two loyally support each other.
History and politics separate them in 1968, and afterwards - when Godard plunges into radical politics but Truffaut continues his career as before. Between the two of them, the actor Jean-Pierre Léaud is torn like a child caught between two separated and warring parents. Their friendship and their break-up embody the story of French cinema.
Exploring the letters, personal archives and films of the two New Wave directors, Two In The Wave takes us back to a prodigious decade that transformed the world of cinema.
Film: Two In The Wave Release date: 11th February 2011 Certificate: TBC Running time: 91 mins Director: Emmanuel Laurent Starring: Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard Genre: Documentary Studio: New Wave Format: Cinema Country: France
Film: À Bout De Souffle Release date: 13th September 2010 Certificate: PG Running time: 87 mins Director: Jean-Luc Godard Starring: Jean-Paul Belmondo, Jean Seberg, Daniel Boulanger, Jean-Pierre Melville, Henri-Jacques Huet Genre: Crime/Drama/Romance/Thriller Studio: Optimum Format: Blu-ray Country: France
A Bout De Souffle has influenced countless modern filmmakers, such as Quentin Tarantino, whose pop-culture literate style owes a lot to Godard. Michel’s plight is always on our mind – the film is peppered with reminders of how the police are closing in on him – but mainly we’re just hanging out with this young hip couple as they discuss contemporary music, films and novels, and smoke an incessant number of cigarettes.
Small-time hood and car thief, Michel Poiccard (Belmondo) kills a policeman with a pistol he found in his stolen car. Returning to Paris, he goes to see an American girl called Patricia (Seberg), with whom he had a fling with in Nice.
Michel needs to leave the country, and is trying to track down some colleagues who owe him money. In the meantime, he and Patricia hang out, as he tries to convince her to leave with him, while Inspector Vital closes in…
Jean-Luc Godard’s first feature was quite shocking for its time, not for its content but the way in which it was filmed and edited. Using lightweight equipment meant that Godard could set up a shot in a moment, filming on the busy streets of Paris in ways that had been impossible before. Many of the external shots of A Bout De Souffle seem to have been shot ‘guerrilla’ style, with members of the public passing by, oblivious. There’s a classic, blink-and-you’ll miss it shot of a girl with a similar haircut to Jean Seberg’s walking close to her, giving her hairstyle a critical look before walking on. This style of filmmaking works against the film at times though – some of the scenes shot at night utilise natural back-ground light and its nigh-on impossible to make out any detail. The dialogue was recorded in sync, too, and there are times where conversations are drowned out by traffic and sirens.
The most controversial element of the film is the editing. Godard had originally shot the film in a more traditional manner, with the requisite establishing shots and reverse angles, but the first cut running time came in well over two hours in length, needing to be closer to the ninety minute mark. As he wanted to achieve this without losing any scenes, Godard trimmed the scenes down, discarding establishing and reverse shots. This gives the film it’s strange, jump-cut look.
The jump-cut editing has a tendency to wrong-foot the film’s audience, giving the impression of an amateur filmmaker who has more or less cut-and-pasted scenes together, mismatching shots in the process. However, the camera-work is exemplary, never losing focus on the film’s protagonists. There is what looks like a crane-shot as Michel first catches up with Josephine, and they walk together down the Champs Elysee. Another wonderful shot is the finale, as the camera follows behind Michel as he runs down a busy street. Apparently, this was created by Godard pushing the cameraman in a wheelchair.
The story itself is paper-thin: Michel needs to call in some debts so he can flee the country, and spends the running time tracking down his erstwhile friends, and trying to convince Josephine to come with him. The problem is that Michel is a casually violent, sociopathic man-child. He’s a little older than Josephine, but a lot more immature. He gets away with it by being incredibly handsome, and has any number of women fawning over him. He’s obsessed by American-made cars - and makes a point of stealing them at any opportunity. Josephine, meanwhile, an American about to study at the Sorbonne, isn’t exactly wise beyond her years. Her attempt to rationalise a major decision she takes towards the end of the film is full of awkward adolescent musings.
Actress Jean Seberg was already a well-known star, having previously starred in Saint Joan, while Belmondo was a relatively unknown actor – at least until the film was released. The man just effuses Gallic Cool. Seberg is very easy on the eye, and gives her character a confident sexuality - someone who isn’t afraid neither to discuss sex nor to deal maturely with her lover’s more overt sexual advances.
Famously, Godard started production without a finished script (the original story was worked out by himself and Francois Truffaut), and was writing dialogue in the morning for scenes he was shooting that afternoon. This may have lent the characters their contradictory nature.
Studio Canal’s Blu-ray release contains a restored version of the film, colour-correcting some scenes and restoring shots which had previously been edited due to damaged stock. This edition contains a number of extras, including a great introduction by Colin Maccabe, who goes into some of the background to the making of the film. There are two documentaries, one interviewing American artists who came into contact with Goddard and how he influenced them, the other set in the hotel room rented by Michel in the film.
The subtitles for A Bout De Souffle need mentioning, especially in regard of the film’s final lines of dialogue. It seems that every new release of the film contains a different translation for this sequence, and Studio Canal’s version is no different. In each case, Inspector Vital takes Michel’s last words and twists them into an insult towards Josephine. Here, Michel utters, “I am such a creep,” and when Josephine asks what he said, the inspector replies, “He said, you are such a creep.”
Jean-Luc Godard’s first feature was a daring experiment in defying the conventions of cinema, almost by default rather than design. It established him as a darling of the French New Wave, and made a star of Jean-Paul Belmondo. Goddard focuses on the seemingly trivial rather than the conventional drama of a criminal evading the police, which becomes mere background noise in the face of the sheer sex appeal of the two leads. MOW
Film: Breathless Release date: 13th September 2010 Certificate: PG Running time: 87 mins Director: Jean-Luc Godard Starring: Jean-Paul Belmondo, Jean Seberg, Daniel Boulanger, Jean-Pierre Melville, Henri-Jacques Huet Genre: Crime/Drama/Romance/Thriller Studio: Optimum Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country: France
There is an anecdote about Jean-Luc Godard approaching the director Jean-Pierre Melville, dismayed by the way his debut film was going and describing the finished rushes as lousy. Melville agreed that, yes, Godard’s film was lousy, but told him not to change a thing and it would create a revolution. That film was 1960's À Bout De Souffle, and Melville’s judgement has proven as astute as it was prescient.
Jean-Paul Belmondo’s petty criminal Michel steals a car in Marseille and heads for Paris, gunning down a pursuing policeman on the way. Once in the capital he meets with up with an old flame, Jean Seberg’s American student Patricia.
As Michel’s holes up in Patricia’s apartment, he shows as much interest in seducing the American as he does in calling in a loan to fund an escape to Italy. As Patricia tries to figure out if she is truly in love with Michel, a number of revelations come to light, showing how little either really know about the other, and how limited their future together is.
With the authorities closing in, Patricia will ultimately betray Michel, leading to a final shoot out in the street…
À Bout De Souffle occupies a canonical position in cinema history. It has left an indelible mark on cinema, and has had a great influence over the way films have looked ever since. Through its utilising of natural sound and lighting, extensive on-location shooting, hand-held cameras, long tracking shots, and a total disregard for the still-sacred 180° line, it created nothing less than a new language of cinema. Perhaps its most significant contribution was the jump-cut, initially a means of achieving a suitable running-time for distribution, its influence has now spread far beyond the confines of cinema (it’s almost impossible to imagine MTV existing in its present form without Godard’s film, for example).
The film still retains an aesthetic vitality a movie celebrating its half century really has no rightful claim to. What the new Blu-ray version in particular does is reiterate just what a good looking film it was all along. Some of its images have attained iconic status (such as our introduction to Patricia selling the New York Herald Tribune along the Champs-Élysées), but there are equally evocative images that might have passed you by before (the swirling patterns of cigarette smoke reflected in Patricia’s dressing mirror, sunlight falling through an open window). Raoul Coutard’s cinematography remains capable of transforming the mundane into something quite beautiful.
So much of the praise heaped on À Bout De Souffle actually refers to factors outside the film (its influence on subsequent cinema, the enjoyment of discussing it afterwards, its myriad references to other film and media) that it overlooks how curiously soulless and uninvolving on an emotional level it can be at times. Though we spend the entire film waiting for Michel to get caught, Godard is not interested in generating suspense. Nor is he interested in forcing us to like his characters. Despite Michel's and Patricia's obvious charms, they're both somewhat despicable. Michel is the easier to get a handle on. His gangster persona is a performance that functions to conceal the frightened little boy underneath, out of his depth and growing increasingly desperate. Patricia is harder to read. She shows the same emotional detachment to the fact she may be carrying Michel’s child as she does to startling revelations about Michel (that he is a murderer, that he is married, that he has more than one name). Even her betrayal of Michel has less to do with morality than a test she sets for herself to determine if she loves him or not. She may not be a killer, but she is perhaps even more monstrous, because she’s less deluded than Michel.
So there is a depth to the characters beneath their seemingly shallow exteriors, but it’s a peculiar depth – one to do with surfaces; one concealing Michel’s desperation, the other concealing an essential emptiness, a void at the heart of Patricia. One of the film’s greatest achievements is the way Godard brings Paris alive in a way that had never been done before (and arguably hasn’t since). It’s just a pity there isn’t the same attention to the human aspect. There’s a knowing, intellectual element to the film that its numerous stylistic innovations and undeniable immediacy cannot wholly overcome.
À Bout De Souffle is more a work of ideas than a work of art. The influence of existentialism can be detected, and it seems to obliquely foreshadow Baudrillard’s theory of simulacra as well the deconstructionism of Derrida; but it’s all cloaked in a typically post-modern self-awareness and reflexivity that masks, or even conceals a lack of any unified meaning. Early on Michel declares, “If you don’t like the sea, if you don’t like the mountains, if you don’t like the city, then get stuffed.” It’s essentially a meaningless statement, indicative of a film less concerned with critiquing anything specific than with expressing ideas. Of course, a cinema of ideas is something we should be grateful for at all times, but the problem is that there are so many ideas here that À Bout De Souffle resembles an essay on cinema rather than a cinematic experience.
Everything in this film relates to movies. It’s dedicated to Monogram Pictures, the American studio that specialised in B-movies. Michel and Patricia go to the cinema to see Westbound, a 1957 B-western directed by Budd Boetticher. Also showing at the cinema are Alain Resnais’ 1959 film Hiroshima, Mon Amour (a major catalyst for the nouvelle vague movement). Director Jean-Pierre Melville (often called the father of the French new wave) appears as a writer being interviewed, and a sly reference is made to the eponymous hero of his 1957 movie Bob Le Flambeur. Even the references to art and literature come back to movies. When Patricia quotes from William Faulkner and hangs a poster of a Renoir-painting, it is Faulkner the screenwriter and Renoir’s son, the great Jean Renoir, Godard is evoking. Other references are more obscure, and will likely pass by all but the most obsessive of modern-day cinephiles.
If there is an ultimate meaning to À Bout De Souffle, it lies in Godard’s love of movies. It’s really a love letter to cinema as a whole, even the old forms of moviemaking that the film posits itself to replace. When Michel stands outside the cinema looking at a poster of Humphrey Bogart and runs his finger across his lip in imitation, Godard pays homage to the cinema of the past, and, in the same moment, offers us a new type of (anti)hero, and a new cinematic language. The literal translation of À Bout De Souffle is not ‘Breathless’ but ‘Out Of Breath’ - from a last gasp cinema was given a new beginning.
That À Bout De Souffle deserves its place in cinema history is beyond question. It’s a film that only reveals much of its charm after several viewings, and if this review seems to argue against its greatness, it is only because it often leaves you wondering how something so bad can be so good. Fifty years on from its original release, À Bout De Souffle continues to beguile and infuriate in equal measures. GJK
Film: Breathless Release date: 25th June 2010 Certificate: PG Running time: 86 mins Director: Jean-Luc Godard Starring: Jean-Paul Belmondo, Jean Seberg, Daniel Boulanger, Jean-Pierre Melville, Henri-Jacques Huet Genre: Crime/Drama/Romance/Thriller Studio: Optimum Format: Cinema Country: France
The opening line of dialogue in Breathless is "After all, I'm an arsehole,” the first of one of many admissions by Jean-Paul Belmondo's Michel that he isn't the perfect guy to be in a relationship with. It's not the only confession on show; Jean-Luc Godard may have gotten more overtly political with age but his debut is well and truly throwing down the gauntlet.
After stealing a car, Michel proceeds to speed wildly through the French countryside, culminating in a police chase which he settles by shooting and killing a uniformed officer. He reacts to this with not an inkling of consideration or regret (Godard's cinematic style is often too brisk to allow for that anyway), and moves onto yet more shady dealings in the heart of Paris's criminal underworld. You get the impression that he isn't exactly dealing with the crème de la crème of the city's amoral hierarchy, as their exchange is a tad amateurish and very nearly foiled. Nevertheless, he hopes to obtain a wad of money from the venture, and runaway to Italy with an American woman he met in Nice three weeks previously.
Jean Seberg, as the American 20-year-old Patricia, knows that Michel is no good, despite all of her entertaining to the contrary, testing his commitment to her by questioning his feelings, even though she knows that the preferred response isn't coming. At one point, she even steps onto a balcony Juliet-style to illicit romantic affection from her would-be Romeo, only to be admonished and told to come down. For all of their flirting, it becomes painfully obvious that Michel and Patricia are completely unsuited to each other. As well as being recklessly uncommitted to any one girl or goal, Michel is hopelessly unable to gauge anyone else's feelings or opinions, content to measure their tryst through physical, sexual intimacy…
With Breathless, Godard intended to create a more crime-based noir setup, with the forefront of the story coming from Michel's misadventures as a tearaway villain, rather than his connection to Patricia. The film's sudden shift from the opening act of hooliganism to a more intuitive, romantic drama feels so sincere and immersive to be even slightly orchestrated, and their relationship is interrogated to the extent that it becomes lucidly sadistic to watch.
Godard's entry into the era of the French New Wave is undoubtedly antagonistic and provocative, mirroring the discord of filmmakers towards mainstream cinema at this time. Michel speaks directly at the camera, a vessel for the authorial intention of Godard, as he spouts the lines, "If you don't like the countryside, if you don't like the mountains, if you don't like the city - get stuffed.” Godard's style of direction and its disregard for cinematic protocol defines Breathless to a point, but doesn't deter from what is a scintillating, profound study of a man and woman drawn together through primal necessity. As Bertolucci later did with Last Tango In Paris, Godard instigates a situation where we aren't necessarily involved with either proponent of the romance, but captivated by their desire to live in the moment, regardless of their future life and loves.
Perhaps there's something about Breathless that appeals to romantic sensibilities, the feeling that when you're young you aren't bound to commitment, even though you secretly crave it, and that, when tested, loyalty counts for very little. One can mistake love for sex, physical attraction, the need to rebel, but when push comes to shove, we know what we don't want.
Michel, as a dreamer, has a very narrow concept of success and failure, and doesn't recognise that Patricia is keen enough on him to try and construct a more positive image of the guy as a loveable rogue. Patricia is most identifiable from an audience standpoint in her introspective infuriation with Michel, and thankfully Godard never pertains to iconize Michel as a martyr of anarchism, and if anything portrays France as a haven for exploitation and deceit.
The French New Wave is often characterised by the sharp cuts and jazzy accompaniment that peppers Breathless and its superficial glamorisation of Paris and its citizens. The film bears many similarities to ‘30s crime dramas like John Cromwell's Algiers and Howard Hawks' blistering, original Scarface, in that it discourages empathy for its leading man, charting his downfall through a sprawling, neo-noir setup. Godard can get away with re-interpreting ‘30s gangster pictures and ‘40s noir cinema as a desperate, tragic waste because Michel is such a profligate, disconcerting presence, so unconcerned with getting caught in the first place. Unlike Hawks' film, Breathless isn't consciously delivering an impression of Michel so much as allowing Belmondo the freedom to be indefensibly fearless (the worst kind of courage?), and is a much more impacting feat because of this. That's perhaps why Patricia's pressured role as an informant to the police doesn't have the melodramatic caveat of a Raymond Chandler novel, and why the lack of real devotion towards any character or story strand works so well.
This Paris, like ‘30s Algiers, is a ruse for grubbier disgrace. The wrenching sadness about Breathless is in its confirmation of life as unfulfilled, and Michel's late proclaim that he's "had enough" sums up the film's dogged independence as an entity eager to shun rules as much as Michel himself. A rapid, slightly abrupt finale reads as if Godard had just put the phone down on a call that was somehow getting out of hand.
Even though Breathless won't always amount to everyone's idea of polish, the result is so much meatier than the sum of its parts. CR
Film: Le Mepris Release date: 5th April 2010 Certificate: 15 Running time: 99 mins Director: Jean-Luc Godard Starring: Brigitte Bardot, Jack Palance, Michel Piccoli, Fritz Lang Genre: Drama Studio: Optimum Format: DVD Country: France/Italy
Le Mepris is one of those films that divides critics and cineastes strongly. Some unreservedly hail it as a modern masterpiece of European cinema, while others find it a cold, detached film whose visual style doesn't compensate for its general sense of ennui.
1963, the south of Italy. Novelist Paul Javal (Michel Piccoli) is hired by the unsentimental American film producer Jerry Prokasch (Jack Palance) to rewrite a script for a film version of Homer's 'The Odyssey'. Paul takes the assignment for two reasons - the $10,000 being offered for the rewrite work, with which payment Paul intends to purchase in full the airy flat he rents to please his beautiful wife Camille (Brigitte Bardot) - and because he admires and is flattered to have the chance to work with the film's famous director, Fritz Lang (playing himself).
But from the moment he signs up for the work, he begins to lose the respect of his wife Camille. The reasons for Camille's sudden and escalating contempt for Paul are left somewhat mysterious, though she does tell him she preferred him when he was writing novels, and she also seems to resent the casualness with which he allowed the aggressive Prokasch (Palance at his wolfish best) to whisk her away from him early on in the film.
Camille accompanies Paul to the isle of Capri, where Lang is in the process of filming his version of The Odyssey, while Paul tries in a desultory kind of way to work out a fresh angle to the script, and Camille spends a fair bit of time sunbathing nude. When her contempt for Paul reaches an irreversible zenith, she leaves Capri as the mistress of Prokasch.
After a surprise twist, we are left with a final image of the actor playing Odysseus in Lang's film, looking out across the Tyrrhenian Sea heroically, perhaps intended as an ironic contrast to Paul, the classic modern man of indecision and self-doubt…
The film critic David Thomson included it in his book 'Have You Seen...?' (2008) as one of the thousand movies he felt his readers should see, but at the same time he also remarks that this is where he feels the director Jean-Luc Godard (Breathless, Alphaville) starts to show his own developing contempt for movies and their part in the capitalist system that would lead to him abandoning filmmaking at the end of the ‘60s for more than a decade (and return mostly only to deconstruct and critique the process).
Perhaps so, but Le Mepris packs an emotional punch very much because of the film's cool, detached approach to the story. The opening scene of Camille and Paul lying naked in bed and speaking intimately to one another may, as Thomson claims, have been a cynical concession to producers keen to have the commercial appeal of nude scenes with Bardot, but it still has a genuine eroticism (in a poetic sense, rather than as an upgraded name for sexploitation) found in only a handful of great films.
The viewer will be disappointed if they come to the film looking for a strong plot or logical character development, but if they look at it more as a kind of poem on modern love masquerading as a film, there is a great deal to enjoy here. JC
Film: Slow Motion Release date: 23rd January 2006 Certificate: 18 Running time: 84 mins Director: Jean-Luc Goddard Starring: Isabelle Huppert, Jacques Dutronc, Nathalie Baye, Roland Amstutz, Cécile Tanner Genre: Drama Studio: Artificial Eye Format: DVD Country: France
Slow Motion, by Jean-Luc Goddard, saw the French auteur return to his day job after a hiatus of several years. It is a sparse and reflective work concerned with three people as they reach a crossroads in their lives - a bare-boned narrative on which a stylistically intriguing film is hung.
The story, what there is of it, is a simple one. Denise, played by Nathalie Baye, is trying to leave the trappings of city life behind her as she trades her car for a bicycle and moves to the country. Preventing her from that closure is a former boyfriend Paul, Jacques Dutronc. He is a cigar smoking television producer who has a daughter, Cecile, from a previous, turbulent, relationship and a myriad of emotional problems. Finally, Isabelle, played by a glacial Isabelle Huppert, is a young prostitute who is trying to stay afloat in a world dominated by aggressive pimps and demanding clients.
The narrative develops little beyond that - or rather it does not dwell or over-dramatise key plot points. That is not the film’s primary concern. Paul ends up meeting and paying to sleeping with Isabelle, unbeknownst to Denise, although the event holds no ramifications for the rest of the story. Isabelle’s younger sister pays to visit the city with the intention of raising her boyfriend’s bail money by going on the game and Paul’s relationship with his daughter deteriorates throughout, culminating in her complete disinterest when he is knocked down on a busy street. Goddard seems almost contemptuous of the details, but in this film, they really never seem to be the point…
Whilst the storytelling is functional, stylistically it shines. From the beautiful rural vignettes that frame Denise and her bicycle, to a world of perfect spaces - colour-coded hotel rooms and marbled lobbies, inhabited by Isabelle and Paul. Expertly composed, often static, shots that hold their gaze on the subject mercilessly. Goddard lets beauty wilt and shine accordingly. The titular slow motion is used often - not in a smooth, ballet-like movement but in jarring, staccato bursts. It produces an alienating effect; it severs the audience’s emotional ties in what could be considered the film’s heaviest-hitting scenes. It is as if Goddard is at pains to remind you that he is control of what you see, and how you perceive it. A director who is not afraid of letting the wires show.
In the sound design, it is where he really flaunts convention, deconstructing established ideas of film scoring, replacing one with a fragmented synthesizer refrain that enters and exits scenes, running from one to the next, interrupting dialogue with a complete disregard cinematic traditions. In the film’s punch line, this piece is reprised by a full orchestra, playing on screen, in an alleyway. A comment on the obligations of a filmmaker to commit musical clout to a major moment? A surreal jibe at the artifice of soundtracks? Regardless, it serves to jolt you from the action, and it is here where the film’s major failings lie. A lack of emotional investment resulting from a lack of emotional engagement.
In typical Goddard fashion, although it could be argued it is a noticeable feature of New Wave French cinema, the principal characters are hyper-eloquent, monologue-prone, mouth-pieces through which the writer/director can philosophise. In Slow Motion, this often makes for exquisite, illuminating dialogue on the nature of transience and change, but it also renders the characters as somewhat one-dimensional. Jacques Dutronc is convincing enough as what could be considered the film’s antagonist, at once reptilian and charming. Nathalie Baye plays it straighter, although has less presence on-screen. No one character is particularly likeable, or well-rounded, and their motivation is vague at best. When Isabelle is bought into a series of strange and demeaning, although not violent or graphic, sexual acts they provide the film’s biggest laughs. Although there is sense of jeopardy in these movements, you are never moved to genuine concern or attachment. There is something stilted and staged to these scenes that carries more thematic than emotional weight.
Slow Motion is a clever film, full of writing both rich and labyrinthine. It plays a game between its characters who hear the splintered refrains of a soundtrack and comment on it. The slow, meticulous editing is refreshed with smart cutaways and the bold use of freeze frames. It is, at times, a very funny film that on occasion is not above laughing at itself.
For all Goddard’s assured artistic flair, the film stumbles in several key areas. The dialogue sometimes gets dragged down in its own lofty aspirations. Conversely it sometimes across as squeamishly misjudged when trying to be provocative. The performances are never completely successful and the strength of character writing isn’t strong enough to make up the ground.
A beautiful, brisk, film (a brief 84 minutes) that certainly invites a number of viewings and interpretations. It is just a shame that such a carefully constructed film struggles to make you care about it.
