Nouvelle Vague

     Ok, this is going to be a relatively shorter post. Read Truffaut's A Certain Tendency, saw a a Aurenche and Bost film and still thought it was great (Forbidden Games). With that, time to dive into the New Wave:

                                        

And we begin with Breathless. After hearing from people online about how much they didn't enjoy this one, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. Obviously groundbreaking in composition, narrative, structure; almost every way you can think of. None of the establishing shot, cut to close up shot language that traditional hollywood era films use, instead we get loose handheld cinematography and natural lighting. Doesn't have any of the narrative urgency or causal structure of a classical film; the point really isn't the plot but in capturing an attitude, an attitude that reminds me of Antonioni's conception of London in Blow Up in its sheer detachment and "cool". The characters are utterly self absorbed and defiant of authority, but this also serves as a commentary of sorts on the Hollywood gangster and noir films that Godard so admired. 

   It's an almost exhilarating experience right from the start really, watching the film break unspoken rules so casually, right from when Michel, the character played by Belmondo speaks directly to the camera, to long dialogue scenes discussing art, poetry and existentialism and finally the enigmatic ending scene. It's so relaxed, so flippant, yet toward the end, strangely reflective, and Godard simply let's it all play out with an unjudgemental eye.

  To a certain extent, every generation of critics feel that they could make a better movie that most filmmakers of their day. The critics of the Cahiers du Cinema actually went ahead and proved it, ensuring that their names would remain immortal long after they passed.

Notice that despite the title, Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) is the most important character

      Most people prefer Truffaut over Godard, yet this one fell relatively flat for me. The virtues of the film are obvious enough; Raoul Coutard is a genius, with the camera straining toward handheld freedom yet effortlessly composing some of the most memorable shots I've ever seen, the shot of the three leaning out of different windows, the train scene, freeze frames and perhaps most impressively, he is able to transition from the loose, joyous open air shooting to more methodical, contemplative shots later on without us even noticing. Adding to the energy at the start of the film, is the editing, of which the pacing is absolutely breathtaking, making you feel like the film is already impatient to move before the scene is even over. Archaic editing transitions like irises and wipes remind us of silent comedies.

   However, Truffaut wants us to be invested in the lives of these 3 characters and honestly I just can't. I've read people claiming that its some tragic tale of lost innocence, bookmarked by the Great War. As much as they try to recapture their joyous youth of those days back in Paris, they are now saddled with the responsibilities of adulthood. However, what I see is just 3 spoiled and shallow people probably living off family money. The Great War left many families broken and destitute, yet for one of the characters the most memorable part of it was a sappy romance story he heard while serving; in the meantime he had moved to yet another villa while playing at being novelist. His friend comes to visit them in Germany to write about the Post War state of life in Germany, but as expected it goes nowhere. Its hard to imagine these characters ever seriously grappling with a subject like that. 

  From this perspective, it seems like there is no point to the film other than seeing a bunch of man and women-children give in to their impulses for what feels like eternity. Maybe there is something I don't understand, maybe its because I'm too young that I don't exactly "get" the power dynamics and sexual politics of the film, but then again, I don't feel like I particularly want to.

    

       Finally, we have Young Girls of Rochefort, quite likely my favourite of the three. First thing you notice is how vibrant the colours in this film are, especially after the previous 2 black and white films. It's has pastel-y, storybook feel with all the bright primary coloured buildings shot in gorgeous technicolour. Wherever you turn, there are people dancing, and the tracking sequences make sure to show all of that choreography of. I remember vividly a short scene where Delphine moves in and out of the background choreography spontaneously, and it filled me an indescribable joy. And Gene Kelly dancing like that at 54?! Seriously, I want to visit this place some day, which is ironic given that most of the characters are trying to escape it

     Anyway, its basically about missed connections and longing, but its dealt in a strangely fascinating manner. The film at heart remains a musical, one imitating those in Hollywood, so it's tone remains bright and cheerful, but it is punctuated at times by dark moments, like the ax murder case that hints at some of the consequences of thwarted desire gone awry. The case is treated quite flippantly by the characters, which actually breaks the immersion more than the actual dance and song numbers. It makes the film seem like a sort of alternate reality, as if these characters are incapable of ever imagining themselves in that situation even if they are presently on that road. The way the missed connections are treated, particularly in a scene close to the end, is very low key, which is quite surprising. That split second when Maxence misses Delphine in the cafe because she goes to the washroom might be one of the saddest moments I've witnessed on film, and there is no dramatic buildup, no manipulative music to tell us what to feel. It simply manifests, and goes away as soon as it arrives. The ending dance  scenes, which is supposed to be the catharsis, are also tonally quite melancholic and while we see Maxence eventually catch up with the carnival troupe, we don't actually see our long awaited meetup with Delphine. Jonathan Rosenbaum writes that "the movie overall leaves one in a unique manic-depressive state, a kind of poetic fugue in which boundless despair and exuberant optimism coexist." That is absolutely spot on.