Informers Inform, Burglars Burgle, Murderers Murder, Lovers Love: Breathless (1960)

I am once again in the throes of a blogathon, this time hosted by the excellent blogs Once upon a screen... and Classic Movie Hub Blog.  The topic: "Dynamic Duos in Classic Film."  I was a bit late to the sign-up for this blogathon, so missed the chance to jump on some of the real classic duos, both in terms of romance and comedy, which is fine, because I have read the work of many of the bloggers involved and I am certain that they will more than do justice to the topics.  As such, I decided a bit of creativity could not hurt in the endeavor and I began to think of a dynamic duo within the context of classic film, pre-1970, that managed to hearken back to an earlier period, while still remaining within the confines of "classic."  I realize that this may have seemed like an absurd endeavor, but considering that the collective of the sixties were a watershed moment in history, it by extension assumes that the same rings true for movies as well.  With that in mind, I realized that I had the perfect offering for this blogathon with what may well be the most important work to come out of the 1960's in Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless.  The now well-established classic was by many accounts, the premier film in the French New Wave movement and invariably changed the language one uses to describe cinema.  This masterwork in European filmmaking, is a rare treasure that offers many varied and legitimate critical levels, while also proving and fresh and unique viewing experience.  Trust me, I have seen the film countless times and it only proves more engaging, the more my cinematic language and consumption matures.  In fact, the current Criterion bluray available only helps to add layers to the film's conceptual framework.  I say all this to set up how it is very much a work that exists within the important film's involving dynamic duos.  Part romantic comedy, part crime thriller there is, excluding Tarantino, perhaps not a more cinematically referential work than Godard's 1960 breakout hit and one of its many points of reference come in the duos of classic noir thrillers, wherein Godard borrows the dynamism of the genre and its gendered duos, using its tropes to push his hip, wild and fast-paced narrative, while also completely calling attention to the frailty of the structure of such an assumedly dynamic pairing.  If some of the other works mentioned during this blogathon embrace the lasting nature of the romantic dynamic duo, it is fair to say that Breathless makes viewers aware of both the performance involved in such duality, while also suggesting that at some point the differences in the duo will result in a collision of fatal proportions.

While the film is about a romantic coupling to a degree, it does begin focusing primarily on the film's "protagonist" Michel (Jean-Paul Belmondo) a part-time thief and full-time woman admirer, who is constantly on a quest to make money, while spouting his own frustrations and problems with the opposite sex.  Indeed, Michel makes it quite clear that women, in his eyes, are incapable of functioning on any legitimate societal level, taking particular disdain in their always being broke and their being terrible drivers, never mind that he himself is constantly without money and certainly is not the most sane or logical of automobile operators.  When an auto theft goes awry and Michel murders a cop to save his own life, he moves into a constant state of paranoia and flight from authorities, which seems to be fine, until he runs into Patricia (Jean Seberg) an American living in Paris while working as a correspondent/salesperson for the European branch of The New York Herald-Tribune.  While the narrative does not outright express it as fact, it is assumed that Patricia and Michel have had some intimate past together, indeed, Michel admits to returning to visit her, almost entirely on a desire to have sex.  Patricia who is initially dismissive of Michel due to his one-track mind and his flippant attitude towards her and most women, nonetheless, agrees to spend time with him, when he seeks shelter from the authorities in her apartment.  At this point the two spend an entire afternoon, evening and morning discussing the ethics of love, lust and humanity, while engaging in intercourse.  In the process, the two become more romantically entwined than before, admitting their deep affection for one another and while they would enjoy the possibility of staying in the moment, Patricia must return to work, while Michel must accrue the necessary funds to flee from his imminent arrest.  It is while Patricia is at work that French police approach her with information regarding Michel, threatening her livelihood and visa status should she not help their investigation.  At first, Patricia is committed to her affections for Michel and stays by his side, yet when it becomes clear that he is still occupied with his criminal life, Patricia breaks down and reports his location to the police, an act she clearly regrets immediately.  Irony arises when the two are driving and the police finally catch up with Michel, only moments after he obtains the money he as been seeking since the onset of the film.  Realizing the futility of the entire endeavor he flees down the street, only to be gunned down by officers.  Patricia distraught runs to Michel's aide and stares at him as he slowly fades into death.  Michel simply dismisses her and her foolishness, claiming that her betrayal makes him want to puke, although a language barrier causes Patricia, in the closing moments of the film, to wonder exactly what "puke" means.

It is precisely this closing moment of Patricia being "lost in translation" as it were, that speaks to the particular dynamism of the duo of Michel and Patricia.  Language being the first obvious difference between the two, lays out a duality of difference that is often challenged, ignored and undermined in the hopes that the two can create some degree of a lasting and meaningful romance together.  Many of the classic Hollywood comedic duos play upon this difference, while, ultimately, noting that the pair can overcome adversity and find a powerful force in love, and Breathless, certainly borrows from that tradition.  However, Godard has over the years been very expressive of the major influence the genre of film noir had on his works, particularly this and Alphaville.  In as much, Michel and Patricia are as much a hapless hero and femme fatale, as they are a romantic comedic pairing.  However, even this is revisionist to a heavy degree, because Michel, while misogynist and a criminal, does not exude the same hardboiled chiseled nature of his idol Humphrey Bogart, in fact, when his absurdly effeminate mugshot appears in the papers, one cannot help but laugh at how non-threatening he looks, despite having committed a murder earlier in the film.  He is not the traditional masculine figure of the genre, just as Patricia is not truly a femme fatale.  Sure it is her betrayal that causes his downfall, but there is not the sense of remorselessness that comes with a Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity.  The duo is not a pair of drifting individuals who come together for a fleeting moment, but instead to opposing forces, that find themselves so magnetically drawn to each other that their cohesion factors heavily into the film.  The hotel room scene, where they consummate their love for one another, lasts roughly thirty plus minutes, nearly constituting half of the film, which is deservedly so, because what happens prior is their movement at a high speed towards one another, while the post-apartment moments represent the aftermath of their collision, which has a very fatal result for Michel.  The ignorance of Patricia at the films closing could be read as demeaning to her character, but I think it simply speaks to a larger issue of duality in love, where ideologies never truly mesh and because of such inherent miscommunication one partner is always far less aware of the damage done to the other, so while it is literal in the film, it plays into a much larger metaphorical statement.  In the end, Godard is clearly claiming that love can arise between even the most unusual of duos, and while it can certainly burst through barriers of language, ideology and personal desire, doing so also runs the risk of one or both of the people involved being trampled in the process, or in the case of this film being shot in the streets of Paris.

Key Scene:  While it is quite an extended bit to consider a scene, I do thing the entirety of the dialogue and interactions occurring within the apartment, might be the single greatest moment in modern cinema.

Criterion Bluray.  Buy it...for your health.

You Are Now A Woman And An Attractive One: Les Bonnes Femmes (1960)

I will fully admit that when I began this planned month of women related films, I did not expect to find myself focusing on anything centered directly within The French New Wave, considering its problematic relationship with women, however, at the same time, I had yet to really engage with the veritable third man of the movement, Claude Chabrol, aside from his various stints as cinematographer for other directors.  I am certainly glad, however, that I decided to pick this film to view, because not only does it possess all of the cinematic elegance and hip charm of a piece of cinema from the era, it also happens to do an excellent job of considering issues of feminine and masculine divides within the Parisian youthful society of the early sixties, not to mention fully reminding viewers of how troublesome male privilege was in their ability to move both vertically and horizontally within an assumedly expanding and progressing social landscape.  It is a film that is seemingly episodic, yet focusing on one character specifically it allows for a narrative to center on the evolving issues for a woman navigating the world in which she is incessantly and problematically objectified, even by those she assumes to be actively aiding her freedom.  I was initially dismissive of a handful of the visual metaphors incorporated within the films as I thought them to be a bit on the nose, yet when I reminded myself that the moments were mostly shot in a improvisation and on the set manner, not to mention the fact that it was created some fifty years ago, made me appreciate their seeming obviousness as absolutely brilliant.  Often with some of the earlier films in the New Wave, one finds a pause for concern when at least one of the elements is lacking, in most cases it was the presence of amateur actors, attempting to deliver deeply introspective and profoundly philosophical statements.  In the case of Les Bonnes Femmes everything merges together brilliantly and the film is impossible to turn away from, proving to be sexy, evocative and evidence of everything one should love and embrace about one of cinema's most important historical movements.

Les Bonnes Femmes, as a title suffers from a problematic series of translations, some suggesting it to be Good Time Girls, while others simply consider it to be Good Girls, neither appropriately grasping the film, which does, at the very least focus on girls who work in a shop, more importantly considering their experiences as they move through the culture of 1960's Paris.  One girl, in particular, Jane (Bernadette LaFont) finds herself particularly tied to the culture, considering that every man she encounters seem completely infatuated with her, whether it be two awkward, yet persistent, old men, or a shop owner whose economic position of power affords him a belief that he can make uncomfortable sexual advances on his employees, particularly Jane, who he believes to be exceptionally good looking.  Jane seems rather capable of navigating between these varied, yet troublesome individuals, however, when she realizes that she is being stalked by a mustached man her senses on the situations changes considerably, moving from shock at its occurrence to a curiosity and eventual desire for his presence.  After several less than stellar engagements with her friends, ending with a mildly violent altercation with some men she met earlier at an indoor pool, Jane's mustached pursuer finally makes his presence known, much to Jane's elation.  The two end up getting food together the following day and Jane completely falls for the charms of the man, particularly his minor magic tricks.  The man is reluctant to confess similar feeling towards Jane and eventually persuades her to take a hike with him on a rural area outside of Paris, during this trip he chokes her to death and leaves in a hurry.  The closing scenes move to what appears to be Jane at a dance hall as she stars vacantly into the glimmering lights of a disco ball, perhaps never experiencing any of the turmoil mentioned in the sentences above, but just imagining it all occurring.

Regardless of whether or not the film was an internalized experience is irrelevant to how I see the film critically, especially since Chabrol seems particularly concerned with depicting the very real oppressions faced by women, particularly young women of this era in France.  Firstly, Les Bonnes Femmes makes it very clear that the masculine problematically objectifies the feminine and is allowed to do so within the public setting, based solely on the assumption that these women chose to expose themselves to such situations, very little is made about the degrading and disrespectful elements to such actions narratively, but, undoubtedly, intentional on the part of Chabrol, who even shows that these women can not avoid being chastised within their work settings, a fact, that is extended even when considering that their jobs are predicated on their attractiveness.  A dismissive viewer might imagine that the events depicted are intended to be a bit of fun and games, however, the unbearably long scene of Jane being pushed underwater by two aging men, reminds viewers that these earnest games can become violently real and turn dark in only seconds, especially since it is made rather clear that were Jane to be dunked underwater one or two more times, without being saved by her admirer, would have likely resulted in her death.  Of course, very little needs to be said about the death of Jane, its violent masculine act is critically somewhat straightforward, only made problematic by the following suggestion that it may have been a dream sequence.  However, the notion that Jane is so disillusioned and troubled by her present situation that she seeks to find a means to end herself in the imaginative speaks to issues that were and would continue to be problems for women in the sixties an onward.

Key Scene:  For being  a shot on location element, the zoo scene is rather exceptional.

This is a Watch Instantly option, but after watching it I think the crispness of a DVD, may well be the better alternative.

Damngoddit: Zazie Dans Le Metro (1960)

If one were to look at the collective works of Louis Malle it would be quite impossible to pinpoint a specific genre or thematic element between his works.  Sure some of the films deal with the issues of childhood loss of innocence, while others are clear studies of the dissipation of a flailing relationship.  However, each films within the directors oeuvre is so unique and fully realized that it is impossible to say with any certainty the directors ultimate concern as a filmmaker.  This is perhaps no more true than with his 1960 offering Zazie Dans Le Metro, which is about….well I am not exactly sure, but I know it involves an androgynous girl and her somewhat dandy of an Uncle’s traipse through Paris.  With that being said it is one of the most genius things I have seen on film in quite sometime and possibly my favorite viewing experience of the year, next only to my recent watching of Secret Sunshine.  Zazie Dans Le Metro is the textbook definition of a zany film and is clearly something that affected the work of directors like Terry Gilliam and Steven Soderbergh with its experimental composition and dialogical diversions.  Malle’s vision leaks off of the screen in Technicolor and is just as eye-popping as any 3D movie to date.  Quite simply, the movie is something to be viewed for explanations are only so helpful.

Zazie Dans Le Metro focuses on the experiences of Zazie (Catherine Demongeot) a wiley young girl who is unwillingly placed in the care of her “hesserosesual” Uncle Gabriel (Philippe Noiret) for a few days in Paris.  Desiring only to visit the city metro, Zazie is flabbergasted to discover that the railways have been shut down due to a strike amongst union members.  Enraged, Zazie acts out against the adults around her often calling them names and cursing in their presence, in some instances the adults ignore the young girl while in other moments they go out of their way to chastise her for breaking from social norms.  Disillusioned by the experience, Zazie is further baffled upon realizing that she is being pawned off on her Uncle Gabriel, simply because her mother desires to spend a torrid day with her lover, whom Zazie runs into multiple times throughout the film.  As such, Zazie begins to evade the watchful eye of her Uncle and wanders around Parisian locales that include stores, cafes and one of the most beautifully shot sequences of the Eiffel Tower in the history of cinema, hands down.  By the end of the film, Zazie has encountered a multitude of French citizens, each representing a problematic existence within the bustling metropolis that is Paris, and, instead of growing greatly from the experience, Zazie simply leaves still desiring to visit the metro.  

Malle’s film is about as satirical as a film can get, considering that the film uses irony, ridicule and about every other form of the comedic style to gets is point across.  No character within Zazie Dans Le Metro is treated in an optimistic manner, including the title character who is clearly a self-concerned brat that seeks her own needs above others throughout the film.  This is understandable though considering that Zazie’s mother too seeks her own carnal desires above the safety of her mother, something that is reinforced by their continual encounters with one another throughout the film, many of which find Zazie in dangerous situations whilst her mother ignores her for the sweet nothings of her rather sleazy lover.  Even Uncle Gabriel is chastised, considering that he is intended to be a gay character, Malle’s adapation plays up on all the stereotypes of homosexuals at the time only to have his actions overlooked by everyone in the narrative.  The film also steals from Tati with a heavy dose of slapstick to help make the characters that much more absurd to the viewer.  The greatest feat, however, is the cinematography which is incredibly varied and mesmerizing, because, despite being exceptionally well done, it manages to cast the characters in a ridiculous existence by causing the world around them to figuratively consume them.  This overpowering only adds to the satirical nature of the brilliant film.  Finally, like the best satire, Zazie Dans Le Metro has viewers laughing hysterically from beginning to end, despite making rather dark and disparaging comments about French society as it moved into the sixties.

Zazie Dans Le Metro is easily one of the best releases from Criterion in 2011 and is certainly worth picking up on bluray.

For That, I Need A Clean Shirt: The 400 Blows (1959)

Truffaut and Godard stand as the two geniuses of The French New Wave, something I am sure I mentioned during my old review of Jules and Jim.  I am constantly reminded upon viewing either of their earlier works about how brilliant both filmmakers were during their youth.  Their style and narrative format have become resonant in the world of cinema since their introduction and both deserve equal praise.  However, the more work I see from the two directors, the more I realize that the two work in completely different spectrum of filmmaking.  Godard was clearly concerned with expanding the conventions of cinema from a visual standpoint, while Truffaut found more in rethinking narrative normalcy.  Both excelled in their respective pursuits, we see this with Breathless and we certainly see this with The 400 Blows.  Truffaut's film on a very basic level is about a kid rebelling against his parents; however, it is something much larger than that and what unfolds is a piece of film that is profound, earnest and individually its own.  Alongside introducing the world to the cinematic figure that is Antoine Doinel, Truffaut's film reminds viewers that in order to love a movie the characters and their experiences need not be dramatic but instead beautifully simple.

As noted above, The 400 Blows focuses on the experiences of a young boy named Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Leaud) as he wanders aimlessly between home and school in an unspecified section of Paris.  Clearly, indifferent to authority figures, Doinel defies his schoolteachers and mother on countless occasions, brushing of their physical attacks and acidic remarks with little care or concern.  In fact, Doinel is lacks such a concern for socially accepted behavior that he foolishly agrees to skip school, catching his mother having an affair with another man in the process.  It is at this point that the young boy's life begins to deteriorate.  Doinel becomes a point of vilification to some of the students who see him as a bully, while he becomes the prime suspect for all wrongdoing both at home and at school.  Doinel's behavior and lack of respect become so egregious that he is kicked out of school and subsequently avoids returning home.  Saddened by the loss of her son, Doinel's mother agrees to be kinder to him upon his return home.  This promise only lasts temporarily when Doinel returns to his bad behavior quite quickly, causing his mother and stepfather to become so aggravated with the boy that they ship him off to a reformatory.  Once again, Doinel's wily ways result in him being punished regularly and quite violently by the headmasters.  During a game of soccer, Doinel, pushed to the edge, pretends to retrieve a ball only to begin running for escape from the reformatory.  After successfully evading those chasing him, Doinel is shown running along the ocean and as he reaches the coast, he stops to look into the camera.  This occurrence breaks the fourth wall, thus reminding viewers that the young boy's story is now theirs as well.

Perhaps the division between Godard and Truffaut is not entirely one of visual over narrative concerns.  I would also argue that their basic assumptions of what it means to portray reality on film are decidedly opposing.  For Godard reality is a series of fabricated moments in which individuals engage in their own self-interests and often interact with one another in very hostile, if not violent, ways.  While the world of Truffaut is certainly hostile, particularly in a work like Shoot The Piano Player, it can be argued that at least one character within each of his films desires to affect change.  It is clear that Doinel's rebellion is problematic; however, what he is rebelling against is certainly justifiable.  In the world of The 400 Blows children are to be obedient and unquestioning in their actions while adults possess free reign over everything.  However, Doinel understand the absurdity of such logic, which is finally solidified when he catches his mother in an act of infidelity, the consequences of which is an explosive realization that adult sensibilities are a lie.  Ultimately, Doinel's tale is one of a child becoming disillusioned at far too young of an age to affect change positively.  Although I have yet to see Truffaut's other films involving Doinel, I can imagine his character struggles with ethics throughout them, and who can blame him considering the lack of proper teaching directed at him.  It could be said that Truffaut's film criticizes French, particularly Parisian, society for their misguided attempts at social values and its over arching affects on youth.  Fortunately, Truffaut would go on to deal with this issue much more thoughtfully in Small Change, a film which reminds viewers that children are to be dealt with sternly and reminded of the tragic world they exist in, yet it is also important to foster their creativity and allow them to maintain a decent amount of imagination.

The 400 Blows is easily one of the most important films ever made.  It is referenced alongside films like Citizen Kane and Seven Samurai, and deservedly so.  Owning a copy should be obvious, particularly considering the recent Bluray upgrade from Criterion.

Forming Love from Le Havre to Paris: L'Atalante (1934)

Arguably, L'Atalante is a film you hear about when people talk about pivotal works of cinema.  It is often mentioned alongside Citizen Kane, The Seventh Seal and Seven Samurai as the masterpieces of cinema.  However, unlike, the previously mentioned films, L'Atalante has been difficult to come by and often a film a person could only see at film school or an art house theater in urban areas.   Fortunately, Criterion, in a labor of love, has brought us the complete works of Jean Vigo, which includes his seminal work L'Atalante.  Upon watching the film, I feared from the get go that it would let me down as it is an incredibly loved movie and I was concerned the hype would be too much to justify the film.  Aside from some absolutely spectacular cinematography, this appeared to be the case.  Then as if by some force of magic, the movie instantly became perfect in a harmonious way.  The characters struggles, the allure of Paris and the simplicity of a voyage narrative all came together and I was hooked.  I am hear to testify the the perfection of L'Atalante and serve as yet another advocate to its place in film history.

L'Atalante is a surprisingly simple movie in regards to plot.  The film follows the captain of the ship L'Atalante Jean (Jean Daste) as he introduces his newly wedded wife Juliette (Dita Parlo) to ship live.  This lifestyle includes close contact with the veteran seamen and cat lover Jules (Michel Simon) and a wide-eyed young boy named Camelot (Gilles Margeritis).  Together the group is voyaging from Le Havre to Paris on some undefined business.  All seems content in the world of L'Atalante, particularly the relationship between Jean and Juliette, until Jean discovers Juliette having a rather informal and close conversation with Jules in his quarters.  This discovery leads Jean into a frenzied fit of jealousy as he distances himself from Juliette and assumes her to be cuckolding him at every opportunity she gets.  This tension reaches its highest point when Juliette and Jean visit a music club when Juliette is incessantly hit on by a street peddler.  Infuriated Juliette and Jean part ways, leaving Juliette broke and lost to roam the streets of Paris.  Distraught and disorganized she unsuccessfully attempts to find work.  Jean attends to things on the ship unsuccessfully, constantly longing for Juliette and seeing visions of her as he sinks down in the water of the river.  Jules realizes the dilemma occurring and attempts to soothe Jean's longing by playing music, however, this only exacerbates his desire for Juliette.  Finally, in an act of loyalty and friendship to Jean, Jules searches and finds Juliette in a music store and brings her back to Jean.  The film ends simply and poetically with the couple reunited.


The plot is short and the film is relatively realistic.  This makes sense given that L'Atalante is on the back end of the poetic realism movement in France; however, the film is anything but a exercise in poetic realism.  In fact, I could find little to do in regards to social criticism, minus passing class commentary.  Instead, the film felt like a transitory film between poetic realism and French New Wave cinema.  This may seem irrelevant, but in cases of transitory filmmaking, it is often lackluster or sloppily done.  L'Atalante executes its transactions perfectly and beautifully.  Examples of this occur throughout the film in pieces, whether it be the lengthy shot of Juliette walking across the ship dock or random jump cuts to kittens climbing about a phonograph.  To a casual viewer these moments will seem out of place, and justifiably so, because they are unconventional to the traditional narrative structure of the film.  To a cinephile, it makes one quickly realize the films influence of Truffaut and Godard, both who claim inspiration from the film.  However, this hybrid of poetic realism and New Wave hits its biggest stride when Jean is swimming through the river and longing for Juliette.  The film continually cuts to images of Juliette smiling as her visage fades in and out of the water in an oneiric illusion.  This dream sequence of sorts is neither the actuality of poetic realism nor the brash irrationality of New Wave.  It is, as stated before, a combination of the both, something that had never happened before in film and rarely has occurred since.  To me this transitory filming style  makes L'Atalante so brilliant, and if it is not this, then the story is so true and realized that it is still a brilliant landmark in movies.

This is certainly one of the highlights of Criterion's 2011 releases.  There is absolutely no reason why you should not own a copy of this on bluray.  It is the French equivalent of Citizen Kane and a corner stone in the history of film.

It's Not Psychology, It's Metaphysics: Jules and Jim (1962)

Every romantic comedy involving an awkward and convoluted triangle love affair has Francois Truffaut to thank, his 1962 masterpiece Jules and Jim.  Truffaut's film, very much lodged in the ideals of The French New Wave, portrays two stalwart friends and a sexually free woman engaging in an intimate relationship in every sense of the word.  The stylistic nature of New Wave filmmaking allows Truffaut to portray the frantic nature of love between multiple people by undercutting dialogue, jumping to reactions early and even inserting long inexplicable shots of the natural world around the characters, all adding a genuine feeling of spontaneity to experiencing love.  Truffaut, as he does with many of his films, captures the essence of human nature, often focusing on the tragedies of existence, but always reminding viewers that even the most dire of situations can procure moments of happiness.  Jules And Jim is an unconventional look at the trials and tribulations that is at all times honest, absurd and heartfelt.  It should be no surprise that the film is tied very closely to Truffaut's own life experiences, a practice reflected in many of his works, most notably The 400 Blows.

The title characters Jules (Oskar Werner) and Jim (Henri Serre) are the ideal male pal combination.  Jules an Austrian novelist and critic and Jim a French poet find themselves enamored with each others intellect and love for the written word.  Throughout the early portions of the film they find themselves perusing the nooks and crannies of Paris, often translating the seminal literary works of each ones respective countries and relating it to their own seemingly mundane lives.  It is assumed that their rather repetitive existence promises to remain untouched, however, when both of them meet the quirky, yet attractive Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) infatuation occurs instantly, for both Jules and Jim find themselves attempting to win over the heart...and body of Catherine.  After a variety of humorous competitions, mostly of a verbal nature, it is Jules who wins Catherine over and takes her to live on the Parisian countryside.  Jim accepts his loss and succumbs to loneliness.  Both accept their situations and even fight a in a war that pits them against one another and all seems fine, however, a few months after the war Jules invites Jim to visit him at his country home.  While doing so, Catherine, whether inadvertent or not, seduces Jim and the two begin to confess their previous feelings.  After a series of miscommunications and letters, Jim discovers that he is to be the father of Catherine's child.  However, Catherine loses the child, but not her affection for Jim.  In a rather awkward moment, Jules catches Catherine and Jim in a moment of intimacy, but chooses to pretend it never occurred and instead passively asks for Jim to remove himself from their home.  Realizing that she is madly in love with Jim, Catherine drives herself and Jim off a bridge into water to assure that they can be together in death.  The film then cuts to Jules, narrating the funeral of both Catherine and Jim explaining that Catherine's casket was relatively small, while Jim's was quite large, reflecting his rather grandiose nature.  This final commentary by Jules says it all, the relationship that proved most important was the one between two friends, who know each others most intimate secrets and that Catherine, for all intents and purposes, ruined their bond both figuratively by becoming a romantic interference and literally by killing Jim, thus separating him from Jules indefinitely.

As I noted this film is a very intimate work on the part of Francois Truffaut, particularly because this film is quite reflective of his close, though brief, relationship with Jean-Luc Godard.  Godard and Truffaut share the spotlight in The French New Wave and film critics continue to debate which individual can claim rulership as the film movement's leader.  The duo built their close relationship while working as film critics for the Cahiers Du Cinema and began making short films as side projects; often incorporating each others help as it proved necessary.  The ultimate result was the creation of two distinctly different directors that just happened to use a lot of the same methods.  In fact, the two worked so closely that many actors appeared in both directors' films and both directors borrowed the others unused footage.  Their friendship proved most productive with the release of Breathless, a film written by Francois Truffaut and directed by Jean-Luc Godard.  Both Godard and Truffaut received international acclaim for this film, as did Truffaut for the previously mentioned film The 400 Blows.  It seemed as tough Truffaut and Godard were destined to be best friends for life and continue to work in collaboration well past the fall of The French New Wave.  This change, however, with the rise in workers revolutions in France during the early 1960's.  Godard and Truffaut found themselves promoting differing political ideologies during the revolts high points.  Their relative views became so severe that the duo broke off their friendship and ceased contact up to the point of Truffaut's death in 1984.  In my opinion this film reflects this occurrence in Truffaut's life, even if it predates the actual fallout between the two directors.  Jules is intended to represent Godard, particularly given the directors Swiss origins and Jim is undoubtedly Truffaut a fact that is only made more probable by Godard previously making a film titled Charlotte Et Son Jules.  Jules and Jim end their relationship and fail to rekindle it before Jim's death and the same thing occurred between Godard and Truffaut.  I know this all implies that Truffaut is a psyching, but I am not saying it is meant to reflect it perfectly; instead it just shows how much a director like Truffaut pulled from personal experience for his films.  Perhaps this helps to explain the intimate and very honest nature of the late director's work.

This is one of the staples of art house cinema and one of Truffaut's finest outings.  I highly recommend checking the film out and getting the Criterion release, because the supplements are phenomenal.