Breathless (1960)

Rating 3.5/4

“After all I am an asshole,” says Michel introducing himself. He speaks with resignation and without apology. The world has reached its verdict about him and he doesn’t disagree. And why shouldn’t he? Michel Poiccard (Jean-Paul Belmondo) is a thoroughly selfish and unlikable individual and cannot see himself being anything else. He steals cars, objectifies women, robs people in public restrooms, and mistreats everyone.
Michel idolizes Humphrey Bogart and plays it cool: wearing sunglasses indoors and rarely goes without a cigarette in his mouth. In Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless, Belmondo became an instant icon of the French New Wave bringing classic Hollywood cool to young French audiences of the 60s.
He is in love with Patricia (Jean Seberg) an American girl who is rebelling against the expectations of society in her own way. She is smart and independent, but doesn’t seem to like it much. She confides in a friend that she is uncomfortable with her freedom and we see her become unhealthily drawn to Michel’s rude and narcissistic exterior. He tells her he knows he loves her because he wants to sleep with her. She knows this is nonsense, but lets it slide because she wants to sleep with him too. She quotes Faulkner at him, “between grief and nothing I will take grief.” Michel rejects this calling grief a compromise and says he wants all or nothing. In the end we see which of the two he receives.
In a lengthy bedroom scene Patricia’s every attempt to culture and civilize him is rebuffed by his apathy and he constantly interrupts any serious conversation by asking her to take her clothes off. Eventually she says to him, “We look each other in the eyes and I don’t know why.” Michel provides her excitement and not much else.

In the film’s opening Michel steals a car and goes for a ride. He monologues, occasionally looking at the camera toward the audience; and here we get our first clear look at his character. He expresses a number of harsh opinions about anything that is not remotely on his wavelength, refuses to pick up a pair of female hitchers because he thinks they are not attractive enough, and plays with a gun he finds in the glovebox as if it was a toy.
He is stopped by a policeman but gets away when the officer is killed. We don’t see Michel commit the crime. In a series of jump cuts a gunshot is heard, the policeman collapses, and Michel is then seen running away on foot. In Paris he drags Patricia into the mess as he tries desperately seeking men who owe him money so he can fund passage to Italy for himself and her. He steals a few more cars, beats up man in a restroom for the cash in his pocket, and cheats a taxi driver out of his fare. Patricia protects him by lying to investigators who are looking for him.

I am uncertain that Michel is guilty of the crime he is being accused of. The movie spends plenty of time after the murder showing us that even if he hadn’t he is certainly capable of it. After all, he is an asshole as he said himself. Every heinous and reprehensible act he commits is depicted clearly accept for the murder. For society and even Michel himself it doesn’t really matter. Society made its judgments. He is just as aware of his shortcomings as anyone. He just doesn’t care. It’s all the same when the world already hates him whether he did it or not. What he does after the murder won’t be any different no matter what his guilt. In the end his only feelings are of exhaustion and disgust.

Breathless takes a unique approach to its cinematography using custom film in a handheld camera that presents a distinctly documentarian look. The camera is never still for a moment, subtly moving even during still shots like in many of Scorsese’s films.
The scenes of dialogue are subjected to frequent jump cuts, sometimes between every line. Time lapses happen between the characters’ statements even when the next line directly follows the previous one. This was a last minute editorial decision made in post-production and it has been widely debated by viewers for decades. My own interpretation is that the time in which these conversations take place are being deliberately made unimportant by Godard. Different times, same conversation. Michel has given the same pillow talk and used the same lines to seduce women on multiple occasions. He is after all, an asshole.

Breathless – released in France as À bout de souffle – has become immensely popular among young theater goers since its release in 1960. There is a reason for this. It’s rough, raw, and hideously brazen in its honesty. The universe doesn’t blare trumpets declaring objectively that one person or the next is bad or good. People can only see their behavior whatever it may be and make their own judgments. Michel and Patricia are loathsome to many. Either for being unidentifiable or hitting too close to home. Michel is cool, but also a jerk with deep-seated insecurities and completely devoid of empathy or remorse. Patricia is infuriating. She’s beautiful. She’s clever. And every choice she makes is terrible and costs her more and more of her dignity and self-respect. She’s neither a feminist icon nor a stand-in for misogynistic ideals. She is wholly herself for better or worse.

I don’t like anyone in this movie. I don’t like what happens in this movie. Listening to Michel’s putdowns and enduring his selfish attitude is difficult at times. But people like him do exist. And Godard masterfully gives us a realistic and uncomfortable look at them without awkward moralizing or offensive apathy. I didn’t have fun watching the film. I wasn’t supposed to. And that’s what makes it a masterpiece.

American Graffiti (1973)

3.5/4

Jack Weinberg once told us “Don’t trust anyone over 30”; and watching the majority of high school coming-of-age comedies that have been released over the years I believe he was right. Most of these types of films are made by men well over thirty who have forgotten what it was like to be truly young. For them youth means the sort of lechery, booze, and boorishness that made Bob Clark’s pictures so popular.
George Lucas was 29 when American Graffiti, his second film, was released to American cinemas. It counts. And if there is anyone who can recapture in a bottle what it was like to be a teenager on the cusp of the adult world it is the man who would later give us Star Wars.

American Graffiti is not a film with a plot that can be adequately described and explained without losing some of its heart and appeal. The movie is a slice of life kinda picture showing the last night of freedom for a group of high school graduates about to go out and get jobs and go to college.
Set in the summer of 1962 with an atmosphere of 50’s diners, music, and cars American Graffiti perfectly and often hilariously portrays its characters living their best lives before the ravages of adulthood begin to take over.

Curt (Richard Dreyfuss) wonders if he really wants to go to college after all and goes on a wild excursion searching for a beautiful girl he saw passing by only to get entangled with a group of greasers whom he helps commit a few petty crimes to avoid getting beaten up by them.
His friend Steve (Ron Howard) is hormonal and immature; pressuring his girlfriend into sex just hours after telling her he wants to be free to see other people while he is away at school. As someone who actually is over 30 I know this is a really bad move.
Steve loans his car to the geeky bespectacled Terry (Charles Martin Smith) who uses it to impress Debbie (Candy Clark), a pretty blonde miles out of his league only to have everything fall apart when Steve later takes the car back. The romance between Terry and Debbie is absurd, charming, and comedically unrealistic in how much she puts up and puts out for him.
Milner (Paul Le Mat) is tricked into taking out a friend’s 12 year old relative, Carol (Mackenzie Phillips) out on a date and their petty bickering and her wit while he tries to pass himself as her babysitter make for some of the funniest moments in the movie. They both know she is too young for him and she takes every opportunity to embarrass and annoy him while she enjoys a night on the town. At the end they part ways with a reluctant mutual respect.
Milner’s rival, Bob Falfa (Harrison Ford) is a brash and immature tool who never quite grew up and has a hankering for street racing high schoolers. He is all ego and bravado who has no qualms over stealing Steve’s girlfriend, Laurie (Cindy Williams). When I was younger I may have felt something for Steve about this, but once again as a man who is over 30 I sympathize more with Laurie’s decision to leave and I was less than satisfied with her resolution with Steve; not being convinced that he really took responsibility for his actions that drove her away in the first place. This, and an unnecessarily tacked-on postscript which tells us what happened to a few of the other characters are the only weak points I found in the movie.

American Graffiti makes for a highly entertaining look at adolescent life in pre-counter culture America. The atmosphere of 50s rock tunes and classic cars doesn’t lose itself in nostalgia and shoe-horned references. It’s more about the characters and their misadventures than it is about the setting. It’s kids being kids without resorting to crude jokes, keg parties, and togas. It’s a sugary slice of young American life and it earns its place as a classic piece of New Hollywood cinema.