breathless

I ended my JLG month with Breathless. I think it represents my relationship with his films better than any other.



It was my very first JLG and I was tremendously disappointed. I attacked it, perhaps too viciously if only because I had not been as impressed with it as others would want me to. Yet it stuck with me. The typical love/hate relationship was born.



Years later, having become obsessed with film from the 1920s and 30s, I visited Breathless again (admittedly, my third or fourth time by now). The film's energy was a revelation. Its place in history made sense. I enjoyed it.



And now, after a month of falling in love with JLG's late work, after a month in which his 60s accomplishments became severely overshadowed and diminished, I visit Breathless again, and I find it as strong as ever. Not because of it's ideas and techniques, which are as weak as JLG has ever done, but because the film is so recklessly romantic and anti-sentimental. For all of his elderly wisdom and fierce intellect, JLG is forever defined by his naively passionate youth.



Perhaps life's regret is that we outlive our passion. As Old Man Godard settles into his retirement, what of his life will remain? Memories of yesterday; the melancholic recollections of dreams long past; a taste of the final pangs of passion; Breathless.

letter to jlg

Dear Jean-Luc,

Thank you for making movies. They have taught me a lot and will teach me a lot more.



When I first watched your films, I did not understand them. I was petty enough to insult them, and occasionally insult you. I would like to apologize for that. Since then I have grown, and no longer try to reduce films to my narrow ideas of artistic worth. Instead I take films as a potential experience for personal growth; and by experiencing your films, I have grown in valuable ways, even when I find myself frustrated by your methods. I am sorry for ever insulting your films. I hope you can forgive me.



Your early career is very popular; those films are fun and at the time presented a lot of new and energetic ideas. I am particularly fond of your portrayals of Paris and modernity in those pictures.




I also like their characters and their physical spontaneity and earnest digressions into social issues.




But it is your more recent films that have been most rewarding, and I find in them the seeds of dense ideas which root and sprout in many ways in my mind. You have a way of leaving ideas open and allowing others to interpret those ideas in their own way. I like that. I also like the way you compose your shots; the way you frame them, stage them, light them -- very distinctive. I think they are beautiful.




Although I have to admit, there are times when I still do not quite understand what you are doing.



Altogether, your career has been remarkable. You have challenged me in ways no other modern filmmaker has. I appreciate this, and want to thank you. Thank you for making pictures that have challenged me and countless others around the world. Thank you for choosing cinema, believing in the image, and standing by it after all. Thank you for being the marvelous exception to the ever-powerful and stifling rule. Thank you for working your soul into an increasingly spiritless art. Thank you.



I hear that this upcoming film will be your last. If true, this is depressing news. To retire from work is to retire from life; eternity is all that remains -- the possible of the impossible. I will be sad to see you go. You have spent your career fighting for the exception of art against the oppressive rule; now that you have reached the end, I beg you to fight against that most final of rules for the most impossible of exceptions. Must you go quietly? Rage, rage...

Sincerely,
Ian

my winnipeg

Finally saw it, finally disappointed. Citizen Girl, however, is someone I will fantasize about for all time.