Days of Godard | The Seventh Art

Passion
1982

Passion marks the beginning of Godard’s most respected period, for those who were patient enough to dig deep. After years of self-glorification and reckless insubordination Godard seems to have shifted to this transitory period of intense self-criticism and awareness as he lays himself open, film by film, and at the same time commenting on how the industry itself is ruthless towards both minority experimentalists and the mass work-force in the form of extras, never once making the films unGodardian or compromising.

Passion (1982)

Passion follows three “individuals” – Jerzy, a workaholic film director without any real human attachment, most definitely representing Godard, Isabelle, a naïve worker at a factory and Hanna, a rich lady who, like Isabelle, is interested in Jerzy. Jerzy’s film in the movie consists of a series of Paradjanov-ish tableaus assembled with punctilious detail but apparently sans a structure and esoteric, like Passion itself. Hence, Passion becomes a self-indulgent movie about self-indulgence. These motionless images are interspersed with intriguing stretches of movement and restlessness. And over all this mystery, Godard continues to weave his philosophy on film grammar (At an interesting point in the film, Jerzy asks his film’s cinematographer, Raoul Coutard, also the cinematographer of Passion and off-screen both ways, if there are any rules in cinema upon which he gets a “No”), individualism and society, passion versus boredom, art against practicality and even the Polish revolution.

Godard compares art with love and the passion for art and labour with love-making. The effective character arc that Jerzy and Isabelle undergo isn’t one of redemption but of hopelessness. Jerzy seems to have abandoned his passion for art in exchange for commerce, Isabelle seems to have shed her genuine interest for work and both of them seem to have lost the genuine love that bound them. They assume fake passions and seem to have the notions of physical love and true love mixed up. Indeed, Isabelle’s final line reads “I don’t like cars” even when she continues working in Peugeot much like Jerzy who leaves for Hollywood deserting his “love”.

Sauve Qui Peut (La Vie)
(Every Man For Himself)
1980

Godard’s second commercial success comes 25 years after the triumph of Breathless. Every Man for himself is considered the starting film of the next phase in Godard’s prolific career and the distinct detour in style is apparent. With all the qualities of a classic French film intact – marital trouble, empty lives, slow pace and streets of Paris – Godard’s sober venture is a ready hit among the critics.

Every Man For Himself (1980)

Exactly as the title suggests, the film follows three individuals who try to redeem their empty lives through their own methods. One takes up prostitution, the other tries to make good films and the third attempts to go to the countryside on her bike. Godard’s preoccupation with prostitution continues as he reflects on prostitution of society, art and oneself. This yearning to break back into the youth may be one of Godard’s own wishes as the film’s composition is enough to raise debates about Godard’s maturity and senescence. The texture of the film reminds us of Godard’s own A Married Woman (1964) and the only fancy Godard style remains the ultra slow motion that pops up fro time to time as if observing truth with religious keenness (Godard uses it in a rather lovable form in his interview with Woody Allen).

The stark contrast with his Dziga Vertov years shows as the organic nature of the film suggests Godard’s serious reconsideration of his objectives. At one point, Paul, clearly the Godard figure in the film, tells us his reason for making films. “’I make films to keep myself busy. If I had the strength, I’d do nothing. It’s because I can’t bear doing nothing that I make films” – evidently a statement from a man who has had a serious setback in his ideological stand. He doesn’t also criticizes himself as he happily reminds us of the infamous Bergman quote about him. He even takes a jab at Truffaut, perhaps as a ramification of their overt friction, and is disgusted at someone making a film out of a David Goodis Novel. And coming to think of it, it is this same man that had paid an hommage to Truffaut’s Shoot the Piano Player in A Woman is a Woman (1961)!

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