Unlike the film I reviewed yesterday (Shohei Imamura's The Pornographers, which I was ready to leave behind rather quickly), I wouldn't have any problem watching and rewatching and lingering over Masculin Feminin for the next week or so before writing my summary and moving on to another entry in this series. There's a lot to enjoy in the film itself, and a robust set of supplements too, especially considering that this is a DVD from the lower price tier that Criterion released back in the mid-2000s. As usual, Jean-Luc Godard packed a lot of ponder-worthy ideas into his script (that is, the lines he supplied his characters to speak on his behalf in this profoundly talk-driven exercise in play-acting.) Even if some of them amount to little more than clever bumper sticker aphorisms, he struck a consistently amusing chord with me as his male actors waxed philosophical with the amateurish profundity of young men who think they know more of life then they actually do, and the females spoke with charmingly candid, slightly naive directness in reply.
Though the plot is strictly makeshift and practically formulaic (young man and young woman meet, flirtation leads to romantic relationship, entanglements ensue and a characteristically Godardian sudden death at the end conveniently wraps things up with abrupt finality), the freshness and immediacy of this Polaroid snapshot of youngsters in Paris in late 1965 is a fun place to hang out - quite a contrast to Imamura's grimy portrayal of Osaka from right around the same time, at least in my opinion. But I'm going to do my best to maintain the momentum I've generated here over the past week where I've been watching movies and churning out a few paragraphs almost daily. So even though I'm likely to publish this with the sense that I have plenty more to say about the movie, here are this morning's thoughts on Masculin Feminin, in a nutshell. (And please feel free to engage me in the comments below, or on Facebook or Twitter or even Google+ if you're interested in discussing this movie or any of my other posts with me any further!)
Positioning Masculin feminin in its place on the timeline of Godard films, it comes across as something like a reprieve for the director, a breather following the cathartic emotional rigors that went into the creation of Pierrot le fou. That film's fatalistic, practically apocalyptic portrayal of the downward trajectory of JLG's relationship with his now ex-wife Anna Karina stands as one of his towering achievements for sure, but it had to be exhausting on the psycho-sexual faculties of Godard the man. As Richard Brody describes in his excellent biography of Godard Everything is Cinema, the director at this time was feeling isolated, detached from the camaraderie of his old crowd from the Cahiers du cinema years when they were all close knit, and unified in purpose. His increasing fame and celebrity status, along with the career paths that compelled his old friends to pursue their own projects, had drained away some of the energy and inspiration that had fueled him to this point. So he settled on the idea of focusing on the young adults just coming of age in 1965 as a way of tapping back into that source of vitality that had launched his own efforts to go from film critic to full-fledged auteur.
The film's origins replicated the typically roundabout process Godard often used of adapting other properties for the screen (in this case, a pair of short stories by Guy de Maupassant, whose work also inspired Max Ophuls Le plaisir and the forthcoming Criterion release of Jean Renoir's A Day in the Country), only to discard almost all of that work by the time shooting began. With a peppy mix of in-the-moment references to current events in France and around the world, an abundance of pop culture ear and eye candy (including smash hit radio singles and a Bardot cameo) and non-sequitur outbursts of cartoonish violence and boorish behavior, Godard's stroke of genius that allowed Masculin feminin to coalesce so successfully was the casting of its two leads.
Jean-Pierre Leaud is now seen in hindsight as a major star, after having grown up and completing a series of films under the direction of Francois Truffaut in which he portrayed the Antoin Doinel character that took the cinematic world by storm in The 400 Blows. Leaud's career continues to this day as well, so it's natural to assume that he was a certified nouvelle vague superstar when he took this role. But the truth is that he had not been seen in a substantial role (other than a few uncredited cameos and a pair of bit parts) since his reprisal of the Doinel role in Antoine and Colette, a short film that Truffaut contributed to an omnibus project titled Love at 20. Leaud had spent a lot more time working on film crews, and his future success as a movie star was far from assured, so this was in some ways a most fortunate opportunity and perhaps a make-or-break junction in his professional development. Here, he comes across as much more nervous and vulnerable than the flippant and self-willed brat we see in The 400 Blows, and I think it's a good turn for him as he fumbles his cigarettes, momentarily falters in delivering his replies to the pretty young woman he's trying to impress and accurately captures the jangled energy of a guy who recognizes he's on to something special and powerful with this attractive chick but is also wary of getting trapped into commitments that he knows he isn't ready for.
Chantal Goya was cast primarily for her appeal as a cute personification of French feminine teendom. She had already established herself as a successful pop singer with Top 10 chart success in France and even overseas (a "real-life ye-ye girl," as she's described on the back cover of the DVD) but had absolutely no aspirations to get into the movies, even though she transitioned this unexpected break to become a very popular entertainer in children's film and TV. Godard caught a glimpse of her on TV, then set up a meeting in a cafe where he watched her sitting there waiting for him for about a half-hour or so, just observing her mannerisms as she spoke with those who had accompanied her on this important visit with the legendary director and cult figure. Without any kind of screen test or other audition, he promised her the job, only requesting that she not try to act, but just be herself in relaying the lines he provided, or in some cases, responding spontaneously to questions that he would put before her in order to get her unrehearsed reaction. In this clip (which I'm unable to embed here), Goya's character Madeleine is meeting up with Leaud's Paul early on in their friendship. During the filming, Godard is actually feeding lines to Leaud through a hidden earpiece and Goya is offering her natural reply, so the emotions are all quite authentic, despite the contrived circumstance. There are a number of similar scenes throughout Masculin feminin that provide an electric vitality to the film (and also give Godard a plausible opportunity to use his verbal seduction skills on a pretty teenager with no strings attached.)
It's probably quite easy for a viewer in 2014 to miss just how provocative and unprecedented this movie was upon its original release. In terms of provocation, much of the material that was considered morally objectionable (union organizing, war protests, irreverent joking about state and church authorities, etc.) and in some cases illegal (such as sex outside of marriage, birth control, abortion) has become common fodder for movies, even if some of the topics remain controversial in certain circles. So Godard's taboo busting tendencies might not be instantly apparent. As for Masculin feminin's structural innovations, we're quite accustomed now to set-ups like this, in which Godard casts a host of pleasantly photogenic young adults, each brimming over with pop star appeal, into a situation that allowed their easy, natural charisma to light up the screen as they're prompted to make precocious, impertinent observations about contemporary life, politics, sexuality and culture.
Godard's aim is clearly to rile up the more fastidious members of his audience, those most likely to regard themselves as defenders of the traditional order, but also to give expression to the ideas and impulses that young people are already acting upon but haven't quite managed to articulate with careful precision. In this effort, Godard was fulfilling his role as an influential shaper of the pop culture that was in the midst of a dramatic upheaval as the mid-1960s tidal shifts in mass consciousness and Western politics kicked into a higher gear. Even though Masculin feminin was met with mixed reviews and was never a major commercial success, it feels to me, watching it at this time, like it was seen by those who needed to ingest its message and creatively adapt this approach, perhaps making the biggest long term impact in shaping future media of any of Godard's films since Breathless.
Next: Tokyo Drifter