Jules e Jim

Jules et Jim is a difficult film, there's no question about that. I'd say the only thing that kept me watching was my love of Truffaut – his ingenuity in cinematography, dialogue and just the whole tone of the film. That he could keep such melodramatic (if not drab) stuff somewhat entertaining is a testament to his mastery of the medium. I loved the blending of historical film into the narrative; I don't know if he was the first person to do this – I highly doubt it – but he certainly did it well in this picture.

Jules et Jim is a study of capriciousness. Catherine – a woman to whom monogamy seems like a foreign concept – is, to paraphrase the film, `not particularly intelligent, beautiful or kind, but she's treated like a queen.' Why Jules and Jim love her so, I don't know. They seem like strong enough characters to be without such a difficult woman, but I guess that question is at the center of the film.

For some reason, Jules et Jim reminded me of L'Avventura by Antonioni – maybe because it was also a hard movie to enter and because the characters were so inaccessible. There are certainly elements of the neo-realism in this film, (one need look no further than the extensive use of mist and the forest scenes that closely resemble the dream sequences of Fellini, De Sica, et. al.)

Overall, I would say this picture is worthwhile, although there are certainly better, more accessible and mature Truffaut films out there.

Those with heavy sensibilities along the lines of conventional "morality" seem to have a hard time allowing themselves to enjoy this film for what it is: A beautiful visual poem about the passing of time and the progression and growth of an unusual friendship. This friendship may be unusual but feels completely natural and true. Jules and Jim if anything, exhibit great maturity in their relationship with each other and Catherine. It's refreshing to see a film dealing with a deep love, friendship and emotional bond between two males and a mutual love for a woman, without the usual competitiveness and controlling possessiveness that is the norm. Jules and Jim come off more as an enlightened pair. It seems understood among them there is no real belonging of one human being to another. Catherine's whims of the heart are discussed between them at every stage throughout the film and they are willing to accept them and love her for who she is as well as each other.

I do feel that this film lost it's pacing toward the end and seemed to speed up to conclusion. That being it's only flaw. Visually it is stunning. Francois Truffaut was a poet with the camera and his subtle nuances are captivating. The scenes of Jules, Jim and Catherine enjoying days together seem so natural and evoke the feel of wonderful days spent together among best friends that transported me back to days gone by.

"we met with a kiss/ a hit, then a miss/ and we parted/ we went our own ways/ in life's whirlpool of days/ around and around we go/ together bound/ together bound."

Whenever a commentator declares outright that a film is a complete waste of time and that nobody, BUT NOBODY, should ever watch it, I tend to peg that commentator as an opinionated ass. So I would never say that about a well-respected film like "Jules and Jim." But quite honestly, I can't warm up to it. I've watched it on more than one occasion over the years, and it never fails to put me to sleep at both ends of my anatomy. I've just viewed a DVD edition in which a film scholar clearly explains his views on the fascination of "Jules and Jim." But I still couldn't see why the relationship of these three tedious characters, discussed and analyzed in all its very tedious minutiae by those same characters and an off-screen narrator (also tedious), should interest me. It's certainly beloved by academic types (maybe for those very same characteristics?), and film critics eat it up like it has gravy on it. Like another commentator, I'm a bit puzzled by all the comments about its lyrical, lighthearted and idyllic qualities. I'm left with the impression of a rather dry, academic dissertation on the complexities of male-female relationships ca. 1961 (the 1910 setting seems to me immaterial to the script).

I can't help feeling that I'm missing something, and I'm not averse to French films, but they're usually older, pre-new-wave films, for example "Forbidden Games," "French Can-Can," or Pagnol's "Fanny" trilogy. I take it that the sentimentality of such films is one of the things new wave directors reacted against. If so, I can't jump on their bandwagon, try as I might. I've enjoyed some of Truffaut's work, but not this, I'm afraid.

To those who love and appreciate "Jules and Jim" -- have pleasure of it. I envy you for that, and maybe I'll try it again in a few years.

Two lads from different backgrounds form a bond, a French boy with dark hair, an Austrian blond, quite Bohemian in their ways, taking pleasure all their days, and then Catherine makes it three, and waves her wand. Jim is smitten with this beauty and he falls, but then war breaks out, and homeland duty calls, so they marry, relocate, intense fighting means a break, she has a child, world reconciles, and bonds remake. Jules travels to the home of his two friends, where the triangle rotates, gyrates and bends, now he's coupled with Catherine, but Jim feels no chagrin, though it's clear this isn't where the story ends.

Jeanne Moreau is always outstanding!

Tonight I finally watched Jules and Jim again for the first time in many years, and it made me angry. I'm not sure why, but there's something about the romanticization of inconstancy that I find disturbing. Jeanne Moreau is, of course, riveting, mostly, and the film is beautifully made. It's just that I can't shake the feeling that what is being portrayed as a great force of nature – the essence of Moreau's character as "une vrai femme" -- is really a powerful but unsteady egotism, enormous grace and charm coupled with an inability to conceive of the reality of other people, or at least to share in mutual reality. In its place there is the lightning of desire in an oversimplified context of defiance against hypocrisy. There is something false about the whole business, as if the movie wants to celebrate the (ostensible) freedom of la belle Catherine and to do so it must attribute the human damage she causes to some grand sort of fate, not ordinary consequence, and the failure and the damage is made to seem mysteriously inevitable. Worse yet, by identifying her as an elemental power and attributing this to her absolute femininity, the film is misogynistic. That is, it implies that the ultimate nature of woman is beyond reason, beyond morality.

And yet Truffaut does it all so beautifully that it seems to undercut the negative part, the pain and waste of what happens to people. Still, smiling cruelty is cruelty. Sorry for ranting. I wanted to like the movie, and I did to a large extent, but it bothered me, too.