El soldadito

As a fan of Claire Denis' Beau Travail in which there are extensive references to Le Petit Soldat, I've been keen to see this film for a while. My expectations were high and after viewing it two days ago I feel like I haven't been let down. I still can't believe that it's made over 40 years ago - it's that fresh, that immediate in its emotional poignancy.

What grand topics Godard is trying to address: do we have ideals? are they more significant than our personal pride? knowing we're powerless, should we just go with the flow? Godard's answers are vague and uncertain, but the manner in which he answers them is vital. His hero knows that he can't win, he doesn't even know which camp he's supposed to be in, but he resists. While he sees his world as quite meaningless, he allows himself to be seduced by beauty and dignity: classical music, Velasquez' grey eyes, photography, Britanny's light, "did I cry?"... In a world where no one can be trusted, he chooses to be his own ally. He finds his comrade in a woman of a different camp - you can read it as either his disillusion with ideology or his faith in love.

The connection between Le Petit Soldat and Beau Travail is so strong that Beau Travail feels like an offspring of Le Petit Soldat. It goes beyond the more obvious references (I have a lot of time ahead of me; maybe freedom begins with remorse; the time for action is over). Both are so true to their point of view that they border on solipsism; both adore the beauty of flesh to the point of fetish (Subor has the most expressive biceps I've ever seen in my life; Gregoire Colin, whose presence bears a striking resemblance to the young Subor, is known as "Gregoire the Magnificent"); and both Godard and Denis are masters at capturing a spontaneity in which no thought can be hidden from the camera. While Godard despairs over a world that is losing its ideals, Denis rediscovers meanings in a world that's supposedly meaningless to begin with. For this reason, I'd recommend watching the two films together at least once.

The beauty and the expressiveness of the film assured that its soul effects can't be achieved in any other media form. The cinematography is invigorating, gritty, and elegant. It's a film that's at the same time dry and lush - dry because of its understated, calm tone(the torture scene!) and lush because of its rich undercurrents. A crispy, translucent film. Its marvels are designed to fade the moment they bloom (Subor and Karina's Spanish salute to each other).

Acting is superb. Subor is a mixture of physical reserve and mental sensitivity. His presence is so edgy and powerful that from time to time you forget he's really as good-looking as any dark and handsome man. Anna Karina's performance is ethereal - her beauty must have inspired Godard to say "woman should not age over 25." Both are elusive and candid, which adds to the dreamlike quality of the film.

If you believe in personal and honest filmmaking, this one is for you. I've seen a number of Godard's movies, but none had drawn me closer to Godard the filmmaker than Le Petit Soldat. In other films he's observant, and in this one he's self-aware. The story is heady, but he narrates in a calm tone, like he's in a negotiation with you. Because of that, you hear every word he says.

Bruno's compromised, his treacherous position, now there's those who'll make profit, at their volition, to encourage him to shoot, will not entertain dispute, until he's satisfied their will, completed mission. Veronica proves to be, quite a distraction, causes Bruno to evaluate his fractions, as the other side entrap, chain his wrists, to the bath tap, while using torture as their primary transaction. Then a chance to land back in the ladies arms, of the mission he can't have, any more qualms, but subversion has its day, the couple go their separate ways, it's hard to think that Bruno, remained very calm.

This film is generally regarded as the sole clunker from the period when this great director was routinely hitting em out of the park, a span from 1959 to 1966 or, if you need it put less abstractly, from "Breathless" to "Masculine Feminine". The main problem with it is that this most soberly realistic of Godard's films is also one of his dullest and I do not think it is coincidental. Godard is at his best with tongue firmly implanted in cheek and the humor, like good Gallic coffee, copious, strong and black. Also madcap and more than a bit off center. Conversely, in this Cold War political movie I did not laugh once. And a political Godard without his trademark mordant humor, zaniness or quirkiness is like Fritz Lang or Carol Reed on a bad day. If I want serious films about the Franco/Algerian conflict then I'll watch Pontecorvo, for cryin out loud. C plus.

PS...I also think that when a Godard film is not set in Paris, as this one is, then there is a palpable sense of loss, ("Contempt" honorably excepted).

Godard's first explicitly political work - produced directly following the release of his debut film, the celebrated À bout de soufflé (1960), and banned almost immediately by the French government until 1963 - is a small-scale B-picture with serious intentions and a scattering of the director's typical verve and energy. In tone, it is somewhat characteristic of the approach of the early French New Wave, and of Godard's films of this period; calling to mind the aforementioned debut and his short films, Tous les garçons s'appellent Patrick (1959) and Charlotte et son Jules (1960), with the elements of cinema vérité inspired editing and cinematography techniques - capturing the action in a hurried and uncomplicated approach of hand-held cameras and unsophisticated mise-en-scene - and featuring a few early experiments with the use of sound design and music that would become more refined throughout the director's subsequent projects; leading to the year-zero effect of Week End (1967) and his exile from "mainstream" cinema until the early 1980's.

Although the film is quite clearly attempting to be a serious work - in regards to both the subject matter and the portrayal of the characters - this is still Godard at his most playful and deconstructive; tinkering with the characteristics of post-war crime cinema and the American film-noir to underline a story that is grittier and more low-key than many of his subsequent projects, such as the giddily stylised Une femme est une femme (1961) produced the following year. So, even though this particular approach and subject matter seems to point towards Godard's later, more politically minded work, such as Made in USA (1966) and La Chinoise (1967), we're still very much in the world of À bout de soufflé; with Godard simply using the political aspects of the story in the same way that he would use the science-fiction elements of Alphaville (1964) or the crime story characteristics of the much later Detective (1985); in the sense that they're mainly stylistic devises there to be exploited for the purposes of cinematic experimentation. I'm sure he meant it deep down, but at this stage in his career, Godard simply lacked the refinement of his later work, giving us a mostly straight presentation with tough guy narration, some ironic asides and an interest in moments of witty dialog and character interaction to breakdown the more conventional thriller aspects of the narrative.

At its most interesting, Le Petit Soldat (1963) draws odd parallels between the shooting of a film and the shooting of a political target; with Godard invoking his cinematographer Raoul Coutard and an anecdote about ___location filming - "the great hassle" - and applying it to the foibles of political assassination when outside influences intervene. In one line, it is pure Godard; playful, deconstructive, self-referential and incredibly witty; we also have that great shot in which the central character, readying himself for a hit, poses from his car window with a 44. in one hand, and a picture of Hitler held in the other to slyly mask his features. What also marks this out as an interesting work for Godard is the first appearance from Anna Karina; the Danish actress that would become Godard's first wife and muse for many of his earliest and greatest films, until Made in USA and their subsequent divorce in 1967. In Le Petit Soldat it becomes clear that Godard is in love with Karina, and his interest in her is expressed cinematically, with the black and white photography of Coutard framing her beautiful features with those big wide eyes and conspiratorial smile that is perfect for a character of this nature.

Godard and Karina would go on to make greater films together, such as Une femme est une femme, Vivre sa Vie (1962), Bande á part (1964) Alphaville and Pierrot le fou (1965) - all groundbreaking works - but there's a charm to her appearance here that makes the lengthy scenes between her character and the film's central protagonist fizz and pop with an unrehearsed magnetism and charisma that is (or was) characteristic of the early French New Wave. In the end, for all the grit and the prolonged scenes of psychological torture and botched political assassinations, Godard is really just playing here; playing with the ideas of politics and current events, like he played with the characteristics of Cocteau's Le Bel Indifférent with Charlotte et son Jules, or played with the crime film conventions in À bout de soufflé. Obviously, these characters aren't secret-agents, radicals or revolutionaries, but are simply actors playing at these roles; much like Belmondo was playing at being a gangster or Karina would go on to play the sitcom girl next door.

Ultimately, Godard's cinema is a cinema of moments; of scenes and characters that gather in our mind during the course of the process of viewing and remain there long after the film has ended. As a result, it is often argued that one can enjoy a film of Godard's, even if they found the complete experience somewhat slow or disengaging - largely as a result of the greatness of the individual scenes. Though it remains flawed in some respects, Le Petit Soldat is certainly not a bad film, and indeed, seems bursting with fresh ideas and ideologies; many of which are a lot more subtle than Godard's detractors would perhaps give him credit for. However, even then, we can recognise this as an early work in the grand scheme of things, produced by an incredibly talented young filmmaker not yet in complete command of his identity or his craft.

It took a couple of rewinds and essentially a second viewing to fully appreciate this film, and even then it was hit and miss. I'm guessing that it must have been more powerful in the 1960's, not because it's message isn't still relevant today, but because it's counterculture method of filmmaking, the philosophical and practically stream of consciousness dialog, and depiction of alienation of youth in a world at war where neither side seems right would have resonated more.

One of the issues is that the long soliloquy from the main character (Michel Subor) towards the end meanders and doesn't deliver a payoff. Throughout the film he wants to talk poetry, philosophy, and politics with everyone - including the captors who torture him - but often doesn't say anything that is particularly enlightened. How much smarter is the comment of his girlfriend (Anna Karina), who much more quietly says that the French will ultimately lose the colonial war because they lack the 'ideal' they had in WWII; in other words, ultimately, they're in the wrong.

The film tells a coherent story, unlike some of Godard's later political efforts, but it has a raw and unpolished feeling about it, with bumpy shots out of cars, lots of dubbing, and aspects that aren't all that fleshed out (such as Karina's character). To some, that might be part of its appeal.

As this film deals with the Algerian War through the lens of violence in Europe between the range of people in support of the FLN (intellectuals, sympathizers, and terrorists) and French forces that seem to be lumping them all into that latter category, and because it has some a dramatically different style, it may make an interesting (though quite dark) double feature with 'The Battle of Algiers' (1966).