The theme is the bridge near the Place de la Bourse with the effects of rain, crowds of people coming and going, smoke from the boats, quays with cranes, workers in the foreground, and all this in grey colors glistening in the rain...what particularly interests me is the motif off the iron bridge in wet weather with all the vehicles, pedestrians, workers on the embankment, boats, smoke, haze in the distance; it's so spirited, so alive.
I haven't seen enough of the recently departed French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard's work to give him any kind of authoritative or comprehensive tribute, but somewhere along the way I did catch 1960's Breathless, a Gallic take on the young-lovers/criminals-on-the-run movie, a genre that goes back to at least 1941's High Sierra. In fact, in Breathless, actor Jean-Paul Belmondo's character Michel consciously patterns himself after Sierra's leading man, Humphrey Bogart. That's Belmondo on the far right. The young woman with the pixie haircut standing next to him is American actress Jean Seberg. Hollywood had been trying for the previous few years to make her a star, without much luck. One of those Hollywood attempts, Bonjour Tristesse, with David Niven and Deborah Kerr, was actually shot in France. While there, Seberg met a citizen of that country, got married, and stayed behind, though she continued acting. Godard cast Seberg as Patricia, quite appropriately an American emigre in Breathless, which finally, and deservedly, made her a star. As for Godard, that's the guy on (again quite appropriately) the left, holding a script in one hand and pushing the wheelchair with the other. Godard had been a film critic who decided he'd like to make films himself. After a few well-received shorts, he got the chance to do a screenplay written (the first draft, anyway) by fellow film critic, and future filmmaker, Francois Truffaut. Though both Truffaut and Godard meant Breathless to be a kind of tribute to Hollywood crime movies (1948's They Live by Night, directed by Nicholas Ray and starring Farley Granger, may have been another influence) Godard decided to film it documentary-style, which meant everything shot on location, bare minimum lighting, and a hand-held camera. The latter brings us to the fellow in the wheelchair, cinematographer Raoul Coutard. While it would be nice to say that Godard is giving a disabled person a chance to work in the French film industry, that's not what's going on at all. Godard didn't want the whole film to be herky-jerky, especially during tracking shots (an extended scene done in a single take), which is what you would get with a hand-held camera no matter how steady the hand holding it. Normally, this would mean mounting the camera on a dolly, but Godard thought that might be too time-consuming, so he just had Coutard play invalid instead. Godard is said to have been a committed Marxist, and since Coutard was his employee, let's hope the chair was at least comfy.
Makes you want to run out and get a copy of the Herald Tribune, huh? But you might have to go online.
Cartoonist and illustrator Jean-Jacques Sempé was born on this day in 1932. In his native France he's best known for illustrating a series of children's books written by RenéGoscinny (best known for the comic strip Astérix) collectively called Le Petit Nicolas (in English Little Nicholas.) Here in the United States Sempé is far better known for the many covers he's done for The New Yorker. Take a look (in some cases, a very close look):
Knowing that Sempé is from France makes me think all the above scenes must take place in France. However, The New Yorker is an American magazine, and there's no reason these scenes can't take place in America. The United States obviously has airports and swimming pools and downtowns with lots of traffic. The United States even has classical musicians, a favorite theme of Sempé's. In fact, there are whole orchestras with such musicians. I live in Cleveland, and I'm told we have a very good orchestra, have had a very good orchestra for quite a while, that it was once led by a man named Szell who in his day was as well-known as Dennis Kucinich. Currently, it's led by Franz Welser-Möst (like most Rust Belt cities, we have a lot of ethnic groups.) Cleveland rocks listens politely and then claps. But getting back to Sempé, whatever their country of origin, most of his characters seem engulfed by their surroundings. They don't seem to know or care that they're engulfed. On the other hand, we know they're engulfed, because we're afforded a bird's-eye view, and we have to care enough to squint to find them. But the squinting's usually worth it. Maybe that's what makes Sempé's work so universal, and particularly appealing for Americans. If there's one thing we have in this country, it's engulfing surroundings.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some squinting to do.
I want to make it clear that I don't consider comics to be a Great Art. When a reviewer wants to put down a film, they'll often say it has a "comic book plot".
--Charles M. Schulz
Humorists always sit at the children's table.
--Woody Allen
Satire is what closes on a Saturday night.
--George S. Kaufman
Schulz, Allen, and Kaufman may have been a bit too hard on themselves. It seems there are people in this world who take comics, humor, and satire...
