Review by Michael Jacobson
Stars: Jean-Paul Belmondo,
Director: Jean-Luc Godard
Audio: PCM Mono
Video: Full Frame 1.33:1
Features: See Review
Length: 90 Minutes
Release Date: February 25, 2014
“It’s crazy…but I love you.”
There are noticeable landmarks along the road of cinema history…tangible signs that signaled to the world that the way we look at movies would be forever changed from that point on. D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation was one, as was Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane. One could even point to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey or even George Lucas’ Star Wars as modern examples. And in 1960, when Jean-Luc Godard first unleashed Breathless upon the world, another turning point had been achieved.
It can only be equated to the arrival of Charlie Parker on the music scene. In the same manner that Bird opened our ears to new sounds and possibilities in the world of jazz, Godard and the emergence of French New Wave cinema instantly opened our eyes to a new film vocabulary. Minimalist and direct, free form and startling, Breathless turned a significant corner in the world of film, and its influence is still being felt 50 years later.
The New Wave movement was largely launched by film critics, such as Godard and Francois Truffaut (who penned the treatment for Breathless), and it’s been said the best way to criticize a movie is to make another movie. Breathless radically turned convention upside down. It forewent the polished, straightforward production of Hollywood’s streamlined offerings. It was loose and free, yet direct and purposeful, taking bits of influence from film noir and neo-realism, but concocting something as immediate as a live jazz concert, offering the feeling that great art was being concocted out of thin air and right before our unsuspecting eyes.
It’s driven by character and not plot, with a sketchy story that seems to hang on the whim of the people flickering on the screen. There’s a French guy, Michel (Belmondo), who seems to model himself after Humphrey Bogart, but whose suit, hat and cigarette all seem too big for him, and an American Girl, Patricia (Seber), who sells a New York newspaper and plans to attend school at the Sorbonne.
Michel is a bad guy, but not a very good one. He steals cars, and early on, we witness the event that sets the wheels in motion: he kills a police officer. Whenever Michel picks up a gun that isn’t his, he always finds trouble.
He spends the film trying to collect money he’s owed, presumably so he can get away, and romancing the elusive Patricia in the margins. The film proceeds from juxtapositions that seem random and chaotic, as though a great experiment was unfolding. They talk about everything and nothing, an obvious future inspiration to the likes of Quentin Tarantino, and they have a love affair that seems more cerebral than passionate.
But the walls are closing in on Michel…can he count on Patricia to stand with him as he tries to remain free? The answer is surprising, but not as surprising as Patricia’s motives, which seem to be the only possible ones in a movie like this. The characters are focused on themselves and seem to be taking part in the grand elusive experiment, and only too late does Michel lament that in his time with Patricia, they only ever talked about themselves instead of each other. The final shot of Patricia is as iconic as they come, and begs the question…which of the two is really the ‘bad guy’?
Much has been made about Godard’s use of jump cuts, which still ring out today in films by Steven Soderbergh and others, but truth be told, it was more of a happy accident than a pre-conceived challenge to the medium. When Godard realized his final cut was a half hour too long, he chose not to cut entire scenes, but rather, play loose with the scissors and cut around, leaving empty spaces on the editing room floor and making the movie proceed forward at a fast clip that can feel both liberating and disorienting.
The trailer boldly proclaimed Breathless as its year’s best film, and as I mentioned, the ripples in the pond unleashed by Godard’s pebble are still reverberating in our modern world of cinema. Like many jazz artists, some of Godard’s later works would find experimentation overtaking substance, and not all his endeavors would find critical or popular success. But few artists can say that a work they crafted marked a real turning point in their field. From that point on, the world of cinema was divided into before Breathless and after Breathless.
Having seen so many New Wave classics before watching this most seminal one, the overall look and feel wasn’t as surprising to me as to unsuspecting audiences in the 60s. I kind of wish I could go back in a time machine and make this my first experience with New Wave…sometimes in art, the imitators can rob you just a little bit of your appreciation for the original.
That’s only marginally the case at best. I imagine it’s still more than possible for modern movie goers to marvel at Breathless. Hollywood hasn’t changed a whole lot since then. But audiences have, and as long as there are restless, dissatisfied customers, there will always be a place for the startling revelation that remains Breathless.
BONUS TRIVIA: Look for Godard in the film as the informer, and the great French director Jean-Pierre Melville as a novelist.
Criterion knows what their fans want on Blu-ray, and they never disappoint. Breathless was, of course, a low budget offering lacking the extravagance of Hollywood productions, but that doesn't mean that you can't get the most out of its classic black and white photography in high definition. Some grain is unavoidable owing to the original film stocks, but the contrast is beautiful and more striking than I've ever seen it, and the imagery in the film renders with a very solid crispness and clarity.
The French mono offering is uncompressed for this Blu-ray issue. It's mostly driven by dialogue, which seems plenty good given my limited French vocabulary. Some of it is noticeably post-dubbed, but that of course is owing to the movie, not the mix. For a 50 year old movie, the track is pleasantly clean and mostly free of any noise or interference. Nicely done.
This is a well-packaged Blu-ray that includes all the features of the double DVD release on a single disc. It kicks off with a highly amusing trailer and some archival interviews with Jean-Luc Godard, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Jean Seberg, director of photography Raoul Coutard and assistant director Pierre Rissient, and one with documentary filmmaker D. A. Pennebaker. There are video essays focusing on Jean Seberg and the criticism aspect of Breathless (mainly how Godard openly referenced other movies in his picture). An 80 minute documentary from the early 90s returns to the locations of the movie and features cast and crew interviews. Lastly, “Charlotte et son Jules” is a 1959 Godard short starring Belmondo.
The included book is thick and juicy, filled with essays, writings by Godard, Francois Truffaut’s original treatment and Godard’s own scenario.
Breathless on Blu-ray is a treat no film fan should pass up on, and this Blu-ray offering from Criterion is the best possible way to experience it. Jean-Luc Godard changed the way we looked at movies, and ushered in a new era of cinema students who are still paying homage to him to this day.