Seeing any film after its initial run in the theaters (or nowadays in the RedBox), allows the movie to be viewed as a document of its time.
This kind of zeitgeist framing helps the viewer better understand the conflicts and context of the film, all the while allowing a glimpse into the past — that era's style, manner, political landscape and cultural battlefield.
The 50th anniversary restoration of director Jean-Luc Godard's humorous and sensual Breathless suits this movie-watching state of mind well and invested viewers will be rewarded by the film's older charms, as well as its cultural significance.
Written by François Truffaut, the 1961 French film will screen at the AFI Silver Theatre in Silver Spring for a one-week engagement starting Friday. For the 50th anniversary restoration, Rialto Pictures "has made new 35 mm prints from a restored negative supervised by" the film's cinematographer, Raoul Coutard, according to an AFI Silver press release. The new prints also include revised English subtitles.
The film follows Michel Poiccard (Jean-Paul Belmondo, A Man and His Dog), a sexist womanizer who steals cars and sells them for a living. The film begins with Poiccard earning the title of murderer after shooting a police officer he is fleeing.
Godard's lense observes Poiccard in Paris and documents his brief and doomed love affair with an American who has trouble with a few French words, Patricia Franchini (a pitch-perfect performance by Jean Seberg, Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!).
The pair trade longing glances but the emotions underneath seem to belie their physical attraction. Poiccard courts Franchini with shallow come-ons and appears to be indifferent when she delivers the news of her pregnancy.
Truffaut's clever and intelligent script serves the mood of the film well. The dialogue spotlights the comical yet sad bumbling of Poiccard's off-center remarks.
He seems determined in his belief that every woman he meets is a coward, including Franchini.
"Women drivers are cowardice personified," he grumbles while driving.
But his often sexist one-liners show that he doesn't hate women or love them. He's dependent on them.
"Girls never have any dough," is one of the broke Poiccard's many complaints as he asks a lady friend for cash.
Belmondo turns in an effective and impressive performance, mixing Parisian romanticism with cynicism and humor.
One of Poiccard's sweeter lines is directed at Franchini, who he is determined to woo again after one lustful night in bed.
"It's nice to wake up next to a girl," he says.
But is his sentiment really all that sweet? Probably not.
The swinging jazz score, reminiscent of the time, moves the film along helpfully and effectively anchors the movie's only half-serious tone.
The film ends gloomily after tracking Poiccard and Franchini's trip across France to evade the police, who are closing in on catching Poiccard and arresting him for murder.
Fifty years after its original release, Breathless stands strong as essential cinema. It is an accomplishment that helped to lay the foundation of not only modern filmmaking but modern culture.
Breathless is just one piece of popular culture that contributed to lessening the taboo tendencies of sex as a conversation starter. The frank discussion of sexual politics in the film is delightfully enlightening.
The scenarios the characters act out and describe demonstrate a stylish and seemingly classy way to deal with male-female sexual discourses. Alas, it's a classiness now only seen in older movies, evidenced today by our over-sexed and meaningless popular media.
What Breathless shows us about how our gender relationships have changed is to be examined; what the film brings in technical expertise and storytelling excellence is to be relished.
RATING: 5 stars out of 5
rhiggins@umdbk.com


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