Die Zeit mit Julien

Kung Fu Master is about a 14 y/o who fell head over heals with his classmates mother, who shockingly returned the favor. It is very 'French' at that. Other quirks of the film is that it is family affair. Its stars Charlotte Gainsborough and her mom Jane Birkin, and Varda's son Matthew.

I definitely watched this brand of 'French' films.

More about a study of the extends of Human Sexuality under cut with smart Social Commentary. This time around AIDS, and the idea of loving someone with a certain kind of baggage.

I always have a rule with this film with moral bent.

If its actively trying to be weird and tries to remove the moral compass of the situation, it kind of fails. This falls deeply in that category. Jane Birkin's character is so enthused by the attention AND I felt that the two times in the film that this situation actually is placed on the spot is not enough against how many times Varda tries to 'dramatize' and 'make sense' of the situation. It clearly does not irk a lot since the male character is not as sexualized AND given the free reign as the active pursuer of the relationship. The ending does work on his end though. But her story needs more.

This is very bad. Always - there is an adult in the situation guys. She is a bad example. I hate how Varda is just trying to justify the relationship in an unironic way.

What makes me doubly sad is that Varda directed this film wonderfully. Well photographed, well directed, and phenomenally acted. Its practically crisp. I wished that it went harder to be honest. Its a material that needs more reckoning, more reactions from others. Its too focused on her in a bad way.

Not Recommended.

The story of how this got made is plainly delightful; it's fun to know how Jane Birkin and Agnès Varda conceived of the project and went about making it, with their own families heavily involved. Beyond that I had no foreknowledge or expectations for the film, and by golly, I was taken by surprise. It's a great credit to Birkin, daughters Charlotte Gainsbourg and Lou Doillon, and Varda's son Mathieu Demy, that they all slide so easily into their parts; the acting couldn't feel more natural, and everyone is very charming. Of course, that does also make 'Le petit amour,' or 'Kung fu master,' decidedly awkward for the places it goes with the central relationship, and with frank discussion of sex that will seem perfectly normal for European viewers and possibly far less so for Americans with our woefully conservative society. Yet while there are absolutely uncomfortable aspects of the feature - emphatically, ideas that are and should be taboo in real life - I'd be plainly lying if I said this weren't an interesting, compelling movie, and enjoyable. I feel like the entirety of these 80 minutes are one big content warning for inappropriate relationships between adults and minors, but be that as it may, it's very well done and worth checking out.

Everything about 'Le petit amour' reinforces the personal, intimate, and fluid and organic feel of the picture. While the cast are foremost in contributing to those airs, Varda's smart direction, Pierre-Laurent Chénieux's gentle and warm cinematography, and the very real filming locations and earnest production design all lend to it as well. There's no shortage of drama to unfold here, but the overall effect is a low-key tone of homely, familial affection, like it's a story that could believably play out for real. That definitely goes for Varda and Birkin's screenplay, too, giving us complicated characters who are just a shade removed from the close-knit dynamics of the actual people involved. The dialogue and scene writing range from convivial and inviting, to cringe-worthy and mildly distressing, but always retain the sense of sincerity and realism that makes the movie feel pure and whole, as though it were both very authentic and exactly what it should and could have been. In that regard I'm pointedly reminded of Louis Malle's 'Pretty baby' of ten years prior, which very much shared in broaching the forbidden. The verisimilitude is bolstered by contemporary references (the AIDS crisis in full swing; the burgeoning popularity of videogames, and Dungeons & Dragons), and at large the result is a story that certainly puts one ill at ease, but is deeply absorbing and satisfying as a viewing experience.

I was taken aback, for sure. But let's not mince words: this is excellent. Given the topics broached on the side, one should be aware of serophobic and homophobic language from ignorant schoolboys - instances of dialogue that still pale in comparison, in terms of content warnings, to the 100-foot tall, flashing neon sign that is the core narrative thrust. Provided one isn't so disturbed by such storytelling as to immediately steer away from the title, however, I can't overstate just how good 'Le petit amour' is. Every last element is superb, with outstanding writing, direction, and acting; all the work served up by those behind the scenes is fantastic in helping to realize the sordid yet congenial tableau. It's a tale that any thinking, feeling person should find troubling, but with cinema being the perfect medium to explore even the unseemly side of life, the representation here - the tremendous care, intelligence, and skill that everyone poured into it - is exceptional. It won't sit well with all viewers, nor appeal to all, and there's no singular stroke of brilliance at any point. Ultimately, however, the marvelous, unique effort pays off handsomely, and if one has a chance to watch, then I think this earns a high, hearty recommendation.

I undertook a time machine type ride heavily imbued with nostalgia when I saw this film in 2005.Kung Fu master directed by the unofficial grand mother of French new wave cinema Agnes Varda is as relevant in our contemporary times as it was 20 years ago in a not so distant past of 1987.It was a time of ubiquitous video games and all the unending worries,fears and anxieties related to a mysterious disease called AIDS. In this film it was nice to see some young French actors who ever since have nicely grown up such as Lou Doillon,Charlotte Gainsbourg and Mathieu Demy.The mystical Agnes Varda touch is very much evident and she takes her viewers on a tour of two different countries where our leading lady Jane Birkin has resided :England and France.Kung Fu master also contains in itself a puppy tale of juvenile love.In the hands of a less versatile director this would have been an absolute catastrophe but due to Agnes Varda's experience in handling such a complex tale of human emotions, what we get is one of the most personal wonderful statements of 21th Century on love.This is the only plausible reason for viewers to watch this film.

The plot is understandable for the initial 50 minutes or so. The emotions and feelings that are not meant to be shared or are considered taboo are brought out innocently and "understandably". But it all changes once the plots takes you to London. It remains no lonher 'understandable" and begs the viewr to as the question: "why?'. Birkin's mother's suggestions of handling her emotions still baffles me, and I just can't imagine that conversation happening in any way. That scene and then the subsequent 20 minutes before the end just doesn't do it for me and what could have been a genuine story of desire, feelings, boundaries, temptations, ethics etc., turns into something unrealistic and unbelievable.

There's a good reason why the English language title for Agnes Varda's new film was borrowed from a video arcade game. Beyond the obvious metaphor of the game itself it spells out very clearly the lack of pretension in Varda's story of a forty-year old housewife who falls in love with a fourteen-year old schoolboy. On its surface the film is about an older woman recapturing the passions of youth, and a young boy's awkward reaching out toward maturity. But underneath is a thoughtful look at the erosion of old-fashioned romantic ideals in an age of safe sex and AIDS awareness, a fact Varda gracefully acknowledges in the final, chilling scene, which (in a subtle way) shows the darkest side of adolescent peer pressure. It's a quiet, undemonstrative drama; Varda has a poet's sense of how much to say and how much to leave unsaid, and the few remaining words she leaves in the capable hands of a first-rate cast. In a daring casting decision the director's own son handles the role of the teen lover, and with surprising skill for a kid his age.