Foreign Film February: Pierrot le Fou (1965)

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I am an emotional cinephile, not an intellectual one. What I mean by that is that when I watch a film, I respond to it with my gut, with my heart, not my mind. My favorite films are ones that move me in some way. As is probably painfully obvious from my reviews, I don’t spend a lot of time analyzing a film for its deeper meanings or its themes. I don’t necessarily spend hours digging into the filmmaker’s personal beliefs, what they’ve said in interviews, or the political climate the film was made in.

Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t use my intellect when watching a film. I am often stimulated by the filmmaking techniques, the director’s sense of style, and how they tell their story. I love reading intellectual critiques of films; I’m just not all that capable of writing one. I’ll let you decide if that is a good or a bad thing.

What this means is that sometimes I come across a film and have no idea how to talk about it. Jean-Luc Godard’s Pierrot le Fou is a meta-movie, a crime thriller, a relationship drama, and so much more.

The plot is fairly simple. Ferdinand Griffon (Jean-Paul Belmondo) is sick of his average, boring life. His wife drags him to a party where the men talk like commercials selling cars and the women sound like an ad for skin cream. He leaves early and discovers the babysitter, Marianne Renoir (Anna Karina), sound asleep. He agrees to take her home, and they reminisce about how they used to be lovers.

Those reminisces turn into something more, and they run away, turn to crime, and have a bit of a Bonnie and Clyde situation. It turns out she’s got a history; her brother has been a criminal for quite some time, and…well, now that I think about it, that simple plot gets a little complicated.

The thing is, Godard is taking a fairly standard crime plot, and he’s having all kinds of fun with it. The title of the film literally translates to “Pierrot, the Fool.” Marianne constantly calls Ferdinand “Pierrot,” to which he always replies, “My name is Ferdinand.” The name Pierrot refers to the sad clown of Commedia dell’arte.

The film makes various references to French literature (most of which went over my head, but my wife filled me in), and movies. At that party early in the film, the great American director Samuel Fuller shows up and discusses film by saying “Film is like a battleground. There’s love, hate, action, violence, death… in one word: emotion.” Well known French actor Jean-Pierre Leaud shows up as an extra at one point. You can barely see him at the bottom of the frame while our heroes are at a movie.

The score often cuts out for a second only to come back as if Godard is trying to remind us we are watching a film and that real life doesn’t come with a soundtrack. At least a couple of times, characters look straight at the camera and speak to the audience. Marianne catches Ferdinand doing it and asks, “Who are you talking to?” To which he replies, “The audience.”

This is where I come back to the part where I’m not intellectual enough to talk about this film. There is so much going on in every second of this film that I’ve barely covered it. I can’t cover it, because I know I missed most of it. I’m just not qualified to give this a true review.

That isn’t to say I didn’t like the film. On the contrary, I loved it. I’ve seen enough films to understand that Godard is being playful, that he’s calling attention to the fact he’s making a film while also making a thoroughly enjoyable story.

I don’t think you have to be a total film nerd or an intellectual to enjoy this film. I think it can be enjoyed at face value while providing many layers for smart people to sift through. Highly recommended.

Awesome ’80s in April: Breathless (1983)

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I have a lousy memory. I can’t remember the details of things. I deal in impressions and feelings. This is especially true with movies, music, and books – all art really. There are songs I’ve heard a million times, that I’ve sung along to since I was a little boy, but if you were to ask me right now – if you were to put a gun to my head and force me to recite a lyric or tell you what the song was about you’d have a lot of cleaning up to do and be no less the wiser.

There are movies I’ve seen multiple times, that I absolutely love, but that I could not describe the plot to you any more than I can speak French to my wife. There are lots of other films that I know I’ve seen, that I remember enjoying, but the details of what and why are completely lost to me. I can remember it being joyous, or devastating. Sometimes I’ll remember images or specific scenes. I might quote a line of dialogue, but the details just disappear.

I’ve seen Jean Luc Godard’s Breathless at least twice. it is a great movie. An important one. I know it was an early entry into the French New Wave and endlessly influential. I can see Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg in that little bedroom and walking down that Parisian street. That imagery is iconic. I know they have great chemistry. But I really don’t remember what happens.

All of which is to say I came to Jim McBrides’ remake of Breathless with Richard Gere and Valérie Kaprisky with a relatively clean slate. Since I can’t remember the details of the Godard film, I wasn’t constantly comparing the two.

The setting was moved to Los Angeles (versus Paris in the original) and the character’s nationalities were reversed (the man is American here, the woman French). I think the basic plot points – the story if you will – are more or less the same but I really couldn’t tell you what details were changed. Honestly, I watched this film about a week ago and I had to read the Wikipedia summary to remember much of what happened in this one.

Jesse Lujack (Richard Gere) is a Jerry Lee Lewis-loving drifter. He steals fast cars and likes to ride. He reads Silver Surfer comic books. He steals a Porche in Las Vegas and drives to Los Angeles in hopes of finding Monica Poiccard (Valérie Kaprisky) an architecture student he had a torrid affair with one weekend while she was visiting Vegas.

On his way, he zips around a traffic blockade, and accidentally (more or less) shoots a cop when he makes chase. On the run from the law he still comes to UCLA, finds Monica, and tries to convince her to come to Mexico with him.

At first, she rebuffs his advances. That weekend was fun but she has work to do. But he’s so charming, so much fun, she eventually gives in. Much of the movie is spent watching them wander around LA, goofing around. He tries to get some money owed to him, and she spends some time with her professor whom she’s also having an affair with.

I don’t remember a lot about the Godard film, but I do remember it is infused with this sense of carefree joy. Godard felt that the French films of his time lacked a certain something that could be found in the cheap American gangster films of the 1930s and 1940s. He made his own version of those films, with modern cuts, music, and filmmaking. His film went on to influence countless American movies.

McBride’s film gained modest critical praise and made a little money, but slipped into obscurity pretty quickly. Godard’s film feels very 1960s even though it mimics film noirs from two decades prior. In the same way, McBride’s film feels very 1980s and has the sheen of neo-noir on it.

I’ve been watching a lot of Richard Gere films from this period and geez that guy was a star. It simply exudes charm and sexiness even when he’s playing a creep like he is here. There is a long scene early in the film where he’s just driving down the road, talking to himself and singing along to Jerry Lee on the radio. I could watch him doing that forever. It’s no wonder Monica drops everything to run away with him.

I can’t begin to argue which film is “better” as if that designation would mean anything anyways. Both films are wonderful, even if I won’t remember any of the details in a couple of weeks.

Band of Outsiders (1964)

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Jean Luc Godard was one of the pioneers of the French New Wave. His films have been hailed as some of the greatest movies of all time, but he also has a reputation for being difficult, for making challenging, even obtuse films. So, I’m always surprised when I watch one of his movies and find them to be utterly delightful. Band of Outsiders is one of my favorites of his films (at least from what I’ve seen) and Criterion released an excellent Blu-ray of it awhile back. I wrote a review and you can read it here.