Pierrot Le Fou (15.)
Directed by Jean-Luc Godard.
Starring Jean-Paul Belmondo, Anna Karina, Dirk Sanders, Raymond Devos, Graziella Galvani. 110 mins.
After kicking off with a Truffaut re-release (400 Blows) the final two weeks of the BFI’s trawl through the films of the Nouvelle Vague wind up with a Godard re-release. Don’t panic, it’s a nice Godard, a mostly fun Godard.
“All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun.” Jean-Luc always knew how to talk a good movie and Pierrot le fou is great for as long as it sticks to that formula. Belmondo and Karina take off from Paris with a bag full of stolen money and head for the south coast for some sun, sea and situationism. Godard packs it full of japes, jibes and moments of invention; wacky and zany are definitely bordered upon. A dinner party scene where people speak in advertising slogans is a bit of a tired idea now but this must have been the first time, or one of the first times, it had been done. It does though get bogged down in its middle third when they forget to wave the gun around.
There's a tremendous sense of freedom to it. 99.99% of cinema is devoted to narrative realism and Godard comes along and just throws it all out. Characterisations don't need to be consistent; plots can be taken or left; characters can start singing; a moment of utter heartbreak can be followed by a portside madman delivering a comic routine that sounds like a classic Les Dawson monologue. It has such a vibrancy that the slightest thing becomes fascinating.
Still, this is Godard – he may be the life and the soul, but he's never going to throw you a party. The film is described as a celebration of impetuous crazy love but Belmondo and Karina's relationship is just a device, there's no affection there. Though Godard appears to be blowing open the whole box, releasing cinema from the chains that held it, it's all done with a sullen air of why bother.
He was a one-man revolution who didn't really want anyone else to join in. While watching it, I found maybe tuning into a phantom film of my own imagining. A shot for shot remake directed by Luc Besson and starring Jason Statham (the Belmondo of our times, surely?) and whatever young Russian model turned actress Besson was interested in at the time. It seems to me that such a piece would be, instructive.
Directed by Jean-Luc Godard.
Starring Jean-Paul Belmondo, Anna Karina, Dirk Sanders, Raymond Devos, Graziella Galvani. 110 mins.
After kicking off with a Truffaut re-release (400 Blows) the final two weeks of the BFI’s trawl through the films of the Nouvelle Vague wind up with a Godard re-release. Don’t panic, it’s a nice Godard, a mostly fun Godard.
“All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun.” Jean-Luc always knew how to talk a good movie and Pierrot le fou is great for as long as it sticks to that formula. Belmondo and Karina take off from Paris with a bag full of stolen money and head for the south coast for some sun, sea and situationism. Godard packs it full of japes, jibes and moments of invention; wacky and zany are definitely bordered upon. A dinner party scene where people speak in advertising slogans is a bit of a tired idea now but this must have been the first time, or one of the first times, it had been done. It does though get bogged down in its middle third when they forget to wave the gun around.
There's a tremendous sense of freedom to it. 99.99% of cinema is devoted to narrative realism and Godard comes along and just throws it all out. Characterisations don't need to be consistent; plots can be taken or left; characters can start singing; a moment of utter heartbreak can be followed by a portside madman delivering a comic routine that sounds like a classic Les Dawson monologue. It has such a vibrancy that the slightest thing becomes fascinating.
Still, this is Godard – he may be the life and the soul, but he's never going to throw you a party. The film is described as a celebration of impetuous crazy love but Belmondo and Karina's relationship is just a device, there's no affection there. Though Godard appears to be blowing open the whole box, releasing cinema from the chains that held it, it's all done with a sullen air of why bother.
He was a one-man revolution who didn't really want anyone else to join in. While watching it, I found maybe tuning into a phantom film of my own imagining. A shot for shot remake directed by Luc Besson and starring Jason Statham (the Belmondo of our times, surely?) and whatever young Russian model turned actress Besson was interested in at the time. It seems to me that such a piece would be, instructive.
