Muriel [ou Le temps d'un retour] (1963)

Having always intended to, but never actually doing so, it was my new years resolution of sorts to take an in-depth look at the work of Alain Resnais. Having taken a brief look at what most consider to be his masterpiece just last month (Hiroshima Mon Amour - here), it was with this new release from Eureka subsidy The Masters of Cinema label that I had a chance to have a look at one of his lesser known pieces. While Muriel, ou le temps d'un retour never fully reaches the levels of quality that its predecessors do, its still a very powerful look at a different side of a genuine auteur.

The film opens with an incredibly fast section of rapid cuts, accompanied by a strange soundtrack, provided by Georges Delarue, perhaps as much a part of the Nouvelle Vague as any filmmaker. This rapid editing proves incredibly cinematic, and as an encapsulated piece of film perhaps works better than anything seen in Hiroshima Mon Amour, at least stylistically, alas its just a shame that this level of visual level of interest isn't maintained throughout. Muriel reminds heavily of Michelangelo Antonioni's Red Desert.

What is immediately apparent with Muriel is the manner with which Resnais approaches time and memory. Whilst he doesn't respect time in the traditional manner, the way in which he does so could be said to be an appropriate one considering the direction the story takes. Whilst its a story deeply concerned with the prospect of time, it doesn't approach it in the usual or expected manner, that is to say that many a film dealing with this sort of subject would usually do so in the manner of using flashbacks. Instead we get a 'jumping' time scale, that flitters across time in a seemingly random manner, with no set rules outlining the length of time between scenes, or the length of a scene. Its rather confusing, or at least confused in the respect that its projecting the key themes of the story onto the screen. Its largely effective, but I would imagine the effect would work much better upon second viewing. To enforce the concept of the importance of time, clocks are seen in pretty much every scene. To add to this, whenever a clock isn't obviously nearby, a character is likely to ask another one if they know what time it is. The use of repitition is apparent on other occasions too, most notably in the way in which Helene is seemingly constantly asking to borrow money. Another example would be the way in which each of the characters declares their intentions to leave the contextual environment of the relevant conversation.

One of the other themes is that of deceit. From the outset, due to the privy, objective view that we are given to each of the characters we know that at least several untruths are being appropriated. Characters are contradictory throughout, lying on several different levels. At the same time the film remains purposefully ambiguous and confusing, but in an assured enough manner to remain authoritative as apposed to ridiculous.

This all ties into the core concept of memory in a powerful way, with it perhaps reaching a pique with Bernard's film about Muriel, revealing her true identity (that has been the subject of numerous untruths itself). The use of voice over, combined with archive footage reminded heavily of the opening sequence of Hiroshima Mon Amour, with the later burning of the slide being a fairly blatant comment on the role of memory with Muriel, ou le temps d'un retour.

love on the run (1979)

The final movement in Francois Truffaut's Antoine Doinel cycle, Love on the Run is perhaps the most poignant and apt final part to a film series imaginable.

The film opens with a strange montage over the credits, accompanied by the famous title theme by Alain Souchon. i haven’t mentioned how great the soundtracks to the Doinel films have been, but throughout the series, each one has managed to be distinctive yet thematically apt and recognisable.

The use of flashbacks is immediately apparent. I found it strangely coincidental how the first of flashbacks is concerned with the cellar scenes, after mentioning them in my review of bed and board a few weeks ago. The addition of these flashbacks in particular adds immensely to the emotional kick of the divorce scenes, and I felt myself in a similar position to how I did when viewing the later scenes of bed and board. With that in mind, the replaying of the cab sequence reinforces just how powerful a scene it actually is, and I would like to further my original thoughts on just how prevocational that particular moment comes across. Love on the Run is a tribute to the character of Doinel, and actively celebrates the series unashamedly. Some would probably deem such an endeavor to be incredibly self-indulgent, but I would deem it appropriate in this case. Not only is it a celebration but its also examines the concurrent themes and devices. For example, the family politics that make up Antoine’s past and instruct his relationships is confronted head on by Antoine, whom openly admits that he “falls for the family, and not just the girl”. Its interesting to see the suspicions that I had confirmed by Truffaut, and adds to the satisfying nature of the final part of the cycle.

In order to achieve the “closed” nature of the film, Truffaut compares several of the events within the rest of the series with those in Love on the Run. For example, the use of the phone call as a dramatic device is used to comment on the way in which Antoine’s attitude towards relationships has developed. If one was to compare the phone call that brings to a close the narrative of Bed and Board with that of the one at the start of Love on the Run (whereby Antoine calls Sabine, his new girlfriend) they would see just how much his priorities have shifted, which in terms of Antoine’s past ties into ideas outlined way back in The 400 Blows (the way in which he treats his own child etc). On that note its interesting how Antoine has incorporated the events of his youth (which we, the viewer, have already seen in The 400 Blows and Antoine and Colette) into the novel that he has written, therefore giving Truffaut an interesting and relevant way in which to use the flashbacks. With that in mind, I like the way in which he has slightly adapted the events to fit the novel, no doubt for dramatic drive, and the way in which he has changed the name of he character based on himself to Alphonse, the name of his son. These points, added to the comment in the train carriage about how the novel is only slightly autobiographical, may be in response to Truffaut's claims for how autobiographical the films are with regards to his own life. It’s a solid use of post-modernism, refreshing in its approach.

Love on the Run ties up a lot of loose ends. We finally get to see Antoine from another point of view, which I would imagine to be the ultimate point of this film; we get to see the events concerned with the story but from the point of view of those involved, not just Antoine, which is a first for the entire cycle. It helps with the closure of the series, and seems to work a charm. One of the more unexpected issues confronted, is the appearance of Antoine’s mothers lover, a man only seen very briefly in The 400 Blows. I say unexpected simply because it is an issue that hasn’t been adequately discussed throughout the later films, but it was a welcome surprise when the man makes an appearance. The subsequent visit to Antoine’s mothers grave ties up their relationship nicely and makes an appropriate bookend to the series.

There is a great moment wherein Colette and Christine meet, which works well at book ending the relationship aspect to his life. Alongside his mother it is these two characters that have shaped his life more than any other, and the way in which their meeting ties in with that of Antoine and his mothers fate works in a very satisfying manner, while at the same time leading onto the final state of his relationship with Sabine, being that his relationship with Sabine is basically a combination of all of the previous ones. In addition to this, despite the apparent happy ending we know Antoine only too well to suspect that this relationship will probably end up the same way as the previous two.

The closing credits, incorporating the scene from The 400 blows of Antoine on the fairground ride morphing with the shot of the kiss seems like the perfect way to end the Antoine Doinel cycle. One of the key ideas that Love on the Run presents is of love being projected in its purest form; as hope incarnate, which coincidently enough is part of the credos of this website, and, in my eyes, one of the key and wholly universal cinematic themes.

bed and board (1970)

the fourth part in francois truffaut's antoine doinel cycle, bed and board explores the married life existance of antoine and christine, his sweetheart from stolen kisses. the concept of antoine doinel being a part of a marriage is an interesting one alone, and even the way in which the marriage is announced to the viewer is as inventive and quirky as one has come to expect from the series. as the camera focuses on various areas of her body, christine is seen walking down a street, stopping off at several vendors along the way. when referred to as 'mademoiselle' (miss) by the various people she encounters she corrects them with "non. madam!'' ("no. mrs!"). this somewhat slow reveal is the perfect way to start a film of two very distinct halves.

for some reason the first half of bed and board feels much different to the second. not really in terms of tone or anything, but moreso in quality. the first half, in which we see antoine ply his wares as a flower-dyer, and go through the motions of young married life is very entertaining, yet the second half (post-antoine's affair) seems lacking somewhat.

once again 'the family' is a major theme within the antoine doinel cycle. antoine's relationship with his own parents is once again avoided, but the onus is placed on that of antoine's relationship with his own son. the scenes of a proud antoine posing for photographs with his new born son is genuinely affecting, and wonderful to boot. his proclamations of his sons future greatness contradict greatly with the yore's of antoine's own relationship with his parents. in related territory we see antoine's relationship with christine's parents is as strong as ever. he latches on to them in a similiar way to how he did with colette's parents in antoine and colette. also, an indication to the doomed nature of antoine's affair with the japanese girl is perhaps telling in the way in which he doesnt develop a relationship with her family.

a key line within the film in the form of -

"moving from the personal to the universal"

is an interesting surmisation might be that just be the key point of the film, at least within the series. for the first time in his life antoine is truly independent, alas this might not be in the manner he had originally thought it would be. there is also a really interesting manner in which the doinel films interwene through converse, mentions of events, or homages of sorts are rife, with the cellar scene being a particularly nice nod to stolen kisses. the recycling of locations from previous doinel films, in particular the brothel and hotel from antoine and colette, is a nice touch, and similiarly theres a point where the relationship banter between antoine and christine reminds of the banter between seberg and belmondo in godard's a bout de souffle. taking the film as an influencer (as opposed to the influenced), theres an apparent influence within the film on the likes of wes anderson, with the whimsical and unique bold yellow subtitles, as well as the use of props and even clothing as a prop.

while its the scattershot and fantastic nature are what is most immediately striking with bed and board, it is the emotional subcore that is most effective. the moments wherein antoine attempts to prevent christine getting into a cab is genuinely heartbreaking, and the final phone calls are affecting beyond belief. this sort of emotional attachment, or reaction at least, isnt what is expected from this period of french cinema, yet its abundant in droves. the failure of antoine doinel's marriage is genuinely heartbreaking.

hiroshima mon amour (1958)

im going to keep this very brief, as hiroshima mon amour will be the first of a new in-depth type of article that i will be producing starting in the next few weeks. needless to say, hiroshima mon amour is perfectly apt as the first of these new, more analytical approaches to film criticism. more time will be spent on these articles, with a higher wordcount and a stronger theoretical background utilised. i look forward to this new approach, and hope to produce at least one article several thousand words at length every week.

stolen kisses (1968)

after the relatively out of character piece fahrenheit 451 and the film that would later go on to inspire quentin tarantino's kill bill series the bride wore black, francois truffaut returned to the antoine doinel series in 1968 with stolen kisses.

we pick up with antoine freshy discharged (dishonorably) from the army, and on the lookout for his sweetheart (although not colette from the previous antoine and colette). through a series of events antoine ends up working for a private detective agency, fall for the boss's wife and finally end up working as a tv repairman. its all very scattershot but works incredibly well on screen.

i found the use of the private detective agency of particular interest, seeing as truffaut was so keen on the hollywood cinema that was largely dominated by such figures. it was a nice tribute i thought, and didnt seem to falter as parody too much, which is one of my complaints with his shoot the pianist. the use of tv repair man as an occupation seemed to me to be a sly nod to the television industry too, courtesy of the cinema world. as a result this film seemed to fit in with the whole ethos of the new wave much stronger than the earlier films in the series. the nod to laurel and hardy is blatent too, another example of the sort of thing i would expect of the nouvelle vague.

the film is perhaps the best shot work of truffaut's career, with the lingering camerawork an obvious inspiration to the aesthetics of modern american independent cinema and the like. the scene of the letter tubes is outstanding, genuinely one of the all time great scenes.

antoine and colette (1962)

this follow up to the 400 blows is a wonderful tale of young love. antoine and colette is the second in director francois truffaut's antoine doinel series of five films. while this film is only a short it still manages to fit plenty of story into its brief running time.

we learn in the opening minutes that antoine was captured after the escape attempt that brought with it the close of the previous film in the series the 400 blows, and that in the years since antoine has somehow made it through the reform system and is now living the life he aspired to as a boy and is fending for himself.

thematically the film insnt particularly disimiliar to its predecessor, with antoine dealing with the familiar tomes of rejection and the seemingly impossible pursuit, for him at least, of attaining some kind of stability in his life (with regards to relationships at least). his plight with the young colette, a girl he meets at a concert hall is one of the strongest realisations of what it feels to be a young man in love that i have ever seen. the hope and the rejection are born out of genuinely universal themes, that we can all relate to. the comparison between that of antoine's attempts at stealing a kiss from colette and the journey that a skiier makes down a treacherous hill is a particularly wonderful moment, and the final scene of antoine sat (emotionally) alone with colette's parents captures a scenario that is all too uncomfortable, even as a viewer.

the 400 blows (1959)

i took in a repeat viewing of truffaut's masterpiece this afternoon in aid of the poll being conducted over at empireonline, in which a group of fifty must choose the ten films that they deem to be the greatest of all time, before the results are colated and put into a hopefully definitive "best ever" type list. as a rule, im making an effort to rewatch each of the 20 or so films that have made my shortlist, before deciding upon my final ten.

"the 400 blows" was one of the films that shaped the way in which i look at and appreciate the "art" of cinema. while topically it wasnt literally relevant to the 16 year old boy that was watching it, visually it felt incredibly fresh, especially compared to the hollywood and mainstream cinema that i had only been exposed to at the point in which i saw "the 400 blows" for the first time. alongside jean-luc godard's "a bout de souffle" my interest in film was formed. i was sold on the notion that film as art was a viable concept.

having spent time in paris since last seeing the film i can suddenly appreciate just why the film and the city are so closely associated. obviously the very fact that the film is set in the city dictates that a close association comes fitted as standard, but there is a deeper connection. the opening credits, still an all time favourite, captures the love/hate relationship that the city has with the concept of the tourist, or the outsider. while attractions like the eiffel tower may not have been intended as the "attraction" that i have just deemed it, that is exactly what it is, and i feel that, based upon personal experiences, the opening credits of the film are almost claiming back the tower to the city. throughout the remainder of the film areas regularly associated with tourists (the champs elysees, the basilica, etc) are shown in a light expected more of bresson than the 'nouvelle vague'.

despite having seen the film inumerable times ''the 400 blows" remains as watchable as ever. the charm of the character of antoine doinel remains as affable as ever, with jean-pierre léaud playing the character that would become his most popular for the first time.

the final shot of the film still manages to be staggering in its execution. one of my oldest memories of the film is just how haunting i found this final shot to be, and can confirm that this is still the case. a beautiful shot that leaves the viewer with more questions than ones it answers throughout rest of the running time of the film. this is cinema, this is film, this is art.

pickpocket (1959)

robert bresson's unconventional love story treads over familiar bresson territory in getting to its revelatory climax. while i say revelatory, the climax to the film is outlined in its opening declaration, at least hinting at the conclusion we are going to arrive at. this opening is incredibly bold, which is something i found to be against type for a bresson picture. reassuringly we are soon back in the usual bresson areas of subtle, slow paced but assured filmmaking. the film follows michel, a small time hoodlum seemingly unwilling to conform to the expected ideals of society. instead he chooses to steal, in a manner he deems to be more worthy than common theft.

like his previous "a man escaped" the narrative (and in turn narration) follows the lead character completely. we never see anything beyond his standpoint, nor are we privy to anything around him that he isnt (see his final arrest for a great example). the irony that michel is at his happiest when behind bars, at least internally upon realisation of jeanne's love for him, obviously stands against the entire plot of "a man escaped". the fact that this is yet another film that revolves around jail from bresson serves only to fuel the reasoning behind his obsession. there are obvious metaphorical connotations of jail (freedom perhaps being the most obvious, and hardly a metaphor), but i must admit to being very curious as to why these institutions are so prevailant throughout his work.

the "crimes" commited throughout the film are exhibited in a very unique manner, and one that is highly reminiscent of bresson's other work. at times they appear in a kind of 'real-time-slow motion', showing the high level of detail in each "job", abeit in a poetic and almost beautiful moment. the scene in the train station wherein many a con are carried out is almost comparable to the way in which a dance may be shot and cut. the fluidity is magnificent. similiarly the way in which the first and final 'jobs' are shot in real-time from a restricted point of view heighten the tension to a high level.

the relationship between michel and the head police officer is a rather fascinating one. their relationship is one of the key thematic points throughout the picture, and certain connotations being turned upside down convey to the audience a confusing yet comfortable notion. for example as i have already mentioned 'michel', the lowly criminal and stereotypical bad guy is the protagonist of the film, thanks to the dawn of the anti-hero, yet traditionally the hero in this type of story would be that of the police officer. instead he is seen to be a dated and negative concept. when michel waxes lyrical with the chief of police about a highly controversial subject; the concept of the super-man, the audience is structurally led to believe that michel is right, with the policeman's view being that of an irrelevent and corrupt institution. with fascism rife throughout europe at the time, and especially as it was a major part of the nazi-manifesto, the very idea of a protagonist ably supporting the legitimacy ofsomething like the super-man notion is revolutionary in itself, even moreso when his message is projected upon the viewer (and successfully to boot). likewise the exploration of stealing as a legitimate enterprise, although ultimately villified is at times teased with (see the scene wherein michel deposits his legitimate wage into his pocket, in an identical manner to the way in which he places the money he has stolen in there).

the use of editing as a tool within which to invisibly move time forward is utilised greatly in "pickpocket". so much so that months and years pass by, with only the use of the basic narrative structure and key events passing by for explanation (see the birth of jeanne's baby).

its an interesting coincidence that "pickpocket" was released in the same year as jean-luc godard's "a bout de souffle", if not for more than the simple fact that both lead characters are named 'michel'. both films deal with the architypical anti-hero, yet while godard's film encouraged possibly the most important film movement of the 20th century, bresson's film maintained the still and restricted style expected of his work, although that is not a comment inspired by negativity. in fact i would like to point out just how surprised i have been by how much i have enjoyed bresson's work so much, especially considering just how much i love the work of the 'nouvelle vague'. the fact that bresson's incredibly unique style survived throughout the upheaval of french cinema is a testament to just how unique and important his style was.

pierrot le fou (1965)

for me, jean-luc godard's "pierrot le fou" not only represents the best example of the french new wave (despite some purists attaining that its not actually an example of the nouvelle vague at all...) but is, in my opinion the greatest film ever made.

''pierrot le fou'' is a film about regret, even down to the final scene. the story of an ad-man who one day, out of work and disillusioned with the route his life has taken decides to flee with his children's babysitter, a girl with whom he has a past. in turn it is discovered that the girl, marianne, has a couple of unresolved issues revolving around algerian gangsters, and so begins a journey to the south of france. the synopsis just outlined does very little to describe the film, as plot is, in a similiar manner to that of ''a bout de souffle'', almost irrelevent. the film is more concerned with the emotions of the semi-eponymous character (who actually goes by the name of ferdinand, yet marianne insists on calling him 'pierrot'), and his journey into decay, as outlined fairly explicitly in the early party conversation scene with samuel fuller.

half way through the picture, marianne tells a story concerning a man that decided to escape death (as in "death" the being. ala bengt ekerot in ''the seventh seal", as opposed to the actual act) by leaving paris and then heading to the south of france, only to hit a truck after driving all night. this analogy rings true for ferdinand, our hero, and could be seen as a nod to the audience, whom by this point in the movement, would have grown accustomed to the distinctive wit and wryness of the sort of humour expressed.

its worth pointing out just how important anna karina, and indeed her relationship with godard was on the final state of the film. in the years since its release, ''pierrot le fou'' has been regarded as one of the all time great examples of a piece of work created through heartbreak. anna karina and jean-luc godard's marriage fell apart during work on "pierrot", with the couple divorced by the time the camera's rolled. this personal situation is evident on the screen, with "pierrot" actually turning into a rather more biographical piece of work than im sure godard originally envisioned. the treatment of marianne as a character, and the way in which she treats ferdinand steadily declines, commenting perhaps on the relationship between godard and karina. and while it may seem like rather a light hearted role when all told, try comparing the diet-femme fetale of marianne with korina's odile in ''bande a part", to see how such similiar characters are handled differently. im under no illusion that the break up of his marriage and the nature of his work following "pierrot" are no doubt linked, i would actually be inclined to say that such a dramatic change in style and tone has never been seen in the arts before or since.

jean-paul belmondo, godard's often used performer returns in "pierrot le fou", in a role that i feel bookends incredibly well with belmondo's work in "a bout de souffle", and in turn, performances that bookend the entire nouvelle vague movement. one could almost view pierrot le fou's 'ferdinand' as the grown up michel poiccard, a loose end that has grown up to be all that he despises.

godard's political tongue changes with "pierrot le fou", and signs of the work that was to follow are becoming. gone are the loving references to american popular culture, as seen in ''a bout de souffle'' with belmondo's 'michel' and his aspirations for bogard, and the almost status symbol-like nature of the coca cola bottles in "bande a part", and in are the sly (and at times blatant) swipes at american culture, be it the satirical verse of the party scene, told in taglines from advertisements, or the attack at the texaco petrol station.

and those are just a few of the reasons as to why "pierrot le fou" is the greatest film ever made.