I had an allergic reaction to French New Wave Cinema (FNWC) the first time I
considered it as a college freshman. I didn’t have the depth or vocabulary at
the time to reflect on it very much.
And that’s the heart of the matter. Much of FNWC was designed to communicate ambivalence, indifference, alienation, isolation and almost-Seinfeldian nothingness without the humor. In that sense, it undoubtedly made a meaningful cultural and political mark. However, that does not mean it produced thoughtful films that stand the test of time.
Sure, maybe I don't get it. Almost certainly, I'm also overreacting to the ignorance, indolence, sociopathy and malignant narcissism on display in the United States during this global crisis. I suppose that film as with any art form is context dependent.
It's on to Italian Post-War Cinema, which I prefer.
After
client work, book writing, hiking and finding a few ways to help during this
pandemic, I’m pursuing a long list of interests. It was in that context that I
decided to give FNWC another shot.
I
still don’t like it very much, though there are aspects to appreciate. That assessment
comes after viewing in recent weeks Godard’s “Breathless” (1960) and “Pierrot
le Fou” (1965), Truffaut’s “The 400 Blows” (1959) and “Jules et Jim” (1962) and
Resnais’ “Hiroshima, mon amour” (1959).
The
FNWC movement emerged from the pages of Cahiers du Cinema where both Godard and
Truffaut worked as critics. Interestingly, Truffaut was banned from Cannes for
daring to write in Cahiers about the uninspired, unimaginative mediocrity of
existing French cinema. How ironic it was that Truffaut then won the 1959
Cannes “Best Director” award for “The 400 Blows,” helping to launch the French New Wave
genre.
Let’s
get to the good stuff. Yes, one can readily see FNWC’s deep influence on the filmmaking
craft. These directors certainly thumbed their collective noses at traditions,
but out of that emerged new and daring approaches to shooting and cutting film.
This
can be seen in the use of jump-cuts and other abrupt and fragmented editing
techniques that creatively distanced viewers from the films. So too with the use
of long tracking shots and attempts at deep-field focus. There is also no
shortage of Hitchcock-like high- and low-angle perspectives as well as
compelling uses of light and shadow. The shaky, gritty home-movie camera work
presages “Blair Witch Project” (1999) shooting styles by four decades, too. The long tracking shot of Catherine, Jules and Jim running across the
train-yard bridge in "Jules et Jim" is downright vertigo inducing albeit excellent. Some
of these experimentative and Cinéma vérité approaches clearly found their way
into - and improved - mainstream filmmaking in France, Hollywood and all over
the world.
Now
to the negatives. I remember decades ago thinking that
these filmmakers were simply laughing at us. The joke was on the audience,
which is how I felt about Fellini’s work until I stopped watching it in the
1970s. That’s not changed. When you dare to think that something like this is not necessarily high art,
there are always critics who will make you think you’re missing the point. Of course, part
of the “charm” of the FNWC art-house gestalt is that there is no point. “Breathless” should have been
called “Pointless.”
FNWC
directors and writers were rejectionists. Yes, their subversiveness certainly
moved filmmaking technique ahead, for which we are thankful. Their anger and
alienation, with its Alan Ginsburg-like “Howl” at the status quo, however,
produced stories and characters suffocating on their existential angst,
nihilism and wanton idleness.
FNWC
characters are often painfully, desperately selfish and self-indulgent and
designed to alienate viewers, which they do very well. If you enjoy the
superficial narcissism of White House pandemic press briefings these days,
you’ll love some of FNWC’s leading characters. No need to look for either
heroes and role models here or evil characters that are nonetheless compelling if not redeemable. Quite
simply, these are people with whom you do not want to spend much time in person
or on screen, be it Jean-Paul Belmondo’s Michel in “Breathless” and Ferdinand
in “Pierrot le Fou” or Jeanne Moreau’s Catherine in “Jules et Jim” and
Emmanuelle Rivas’ Elle in “Hiroshima, mon amour.” Yes, there are exceptions such as Jean-Pierre Léaud's Antoine in "The 400 Blows."
And that’s the heart of the matter. Much of FNWC was designed to communicate ambivalence, indifference, alienation, isolation and almost-Seinfeldian nothingness without the humor. In that sense, it undoubtedly made a meaningful cultural and political mark. However, that does not mean it produced thoughtful films that stand the test of time.
Sure, maybe I don't get it. Almost certainly, I'm also overreacting to the ignorance, indolence, sociopathy and malignant narcissism on display in the United States during this global crisis. I suppose that film as with any art form is context dependent.
It's on to Italian Post-War Cinema, which I prefer.
Image courtesy of Selig Film News.