Le Petit Soldat

(Flash Review)

This film's approach, part of the French New Wave, was fresh for the time but it fails to deliver a cohesive impact. The two key characters are both part of terrorist groups involved with the Algerian war. The man with a right-wing group and the woman with the left-wing group. They unconvincingly fall for each other during a phony-feeling and rambling photography session scene as he poses as a photojournalist and talks about one's defending ideas not physical territories. As that plays out this guy also needs to assassinate someone yet isn't a true professional so lacks the nerve to do the job. Because people he associates with continue to see him fail they think he is a double agent and lose faith in him and subject him to torture. This film was originally banned for the torture scene yet today feels non-threatening and fake. This didn't work for me and what's the deal with all the painter Paul Klee references?

People who worship Godard, in my experience, are usually not French speakers and I think they imagine the dialogs in his films are more successful than they actually are. This film doesn't really flow well but the subject of state sponsored terrorism is interesting and original. However, without Anna Karina, who is simply luminous here at the age of 20, I wouldn't have been able to watch this film all the way through.

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.

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).

Bruno Forrestier (Michel Subor) is a 26 year-old Frenchman working in Geneva with links to extreme-right terrorists. Set in the background of the Algerian war, he cannot return to France as he has deserted but cannot remain in Geneva, where two terrorist groups suspect him of being a double-agent and shadow him menacingly throughout the film. Common to Godard films such as A bout de soufflé and Peirrot le fou, there is a palpable sense from the beginning that Bruno is living on borrowed time, so the action takes on a certain urgency within this shadow of danger. This is contrasted by the serene filming and narration, which evokes calm and certainty. Godard uses over-narration from the beginning, creating a sense of certainty with regard to the action, although distorting the viewer's perception of time, especially when the two at one time merge together. At the same time, the intensity of danger is capitalised on by the heavy use of close-ups of the characters, who are all stylishly dressed in suits and driving American cars. A hand-held camera is also used to bring the viewer even closer to the action and, we feel, to understanding the motivations of Bruno in what remains a highly political film. The viewer is kept on his toes by the inconsistent length of sequences, ranging from very long and intense (in apartments) to very short and spontaneous (mostly with moving cars). Godard cuts mercilessly between scenes which are only tenuously linked by the storyline and, in order to create a contrast, will not explain this with the narration but with the continuation of action in the film (to which the viewer must then stay gripped). With the cars, the clothes, the editing, the hand-held camera work and the use of close-ups and over-narration, the film is a pioneer of Nouvelle vague cinema, having been made before A bout de soufflé (1960), but banned in France until 1963 due to its political commentary. Ironically, these techniques create such an intense relationship between the screen and the viewer that the presence of politics is of secondary importance to the desire to understand each character and find out whatever little you can about them. In these ways you are drawn in and remain gripped to the film.