La maman et la putain

It is not an easy film to watch - it is over three and a half hours long and it is composed entirely of conversations. Yet it is so incredibly compelling and ruthlessly observational of the human character, that it is, in my humble opinion, one of the very greatest films of all time.

The film is depressing, cynical and cruel. (If you want something uplifting, see Jacques Rivette's fantastic Céline and Julie Go Boating, which was made around the same time). It shows the idealism of the late 1960s to be nothing different from the society that it was trying to change.

It involves a supposedly liberated ménage-à-trois between Alexandre (played by Jean-Pierre Leaud), Marie (Bernadette Lafont) and Veronika (Francoise Lebrun). Yet Alexandre is shown to be as chauvinistic and jealous as any other man. The women are exposed as being willingly subservient and defining their femininity through the male gaze.

The film is an extremely icy end to the highly revolutionary French New Wave. This movement was one of the most significant movements in film history and had a profound effect on cinema as we know it. Jean-Pierre Leaud was one of the key actors of the New Wave, having starred (among other films) in the influential Les Quatres Cent Coups (1959) by Francois Truffaut as a rebellious teenager. Director Jean Eustache is not as well known as other directors from the New Wave, but he should be.

There is no improvisation (unlike in John Cassavetes's similar films made in the US) and the dialogue comes from real-life conversations. The film is resonant with Eustache's personal experiences. For example, Francoise Lebrun was a former lover of Eustache. Eustache himself committed suicide in 1981 and the real-life person that the character Marie was based on, did too. The anger and bitterness all culminate in a harrowing monologue by Veronika delivered directly to the audience, breaking down the coldly objective nature of the rest of the film. This mesmerising, personal, and honest filmic statement remains one of the most revealing films of human nature around.

In Paris, the pedantic Alexandre (Jean-Pierre Léaud) lives with his mate Marie (Bernadette Lafont) in her apartment, an open relationship. Alexandre, who is idle and chauvinist, spends his days reading, drinking and shagging women. After flirting with his former affair, Gilberte (Isabelle Weingarten), who tells him that she will marry soon her boyfriend, Alexandre meets the Laenne Hospital nurse Veronika Osterwald (Françoise Lebrun) and they schedule a date. Alexandre learns that Veronika is a promiscuous woman that loves to shag and introduces her to Marie. They have a threesome and Alexandre has a crush on Veronika.

"La Maman et la Putain" is an overrated and dull French New Wave cult-movie by Jean Eustache about the sexual adventures of a pedantic chauvinist. I do not have the intention to offend the umpteen fans of this director and film, but I really did not like this long film of three and half hours. There are witty dialogs and situations, but in general I found it very dull with empty characters.

The expensive DVD released in Brazil by Lume Distributor is a shameful recording of French television broadcasting with an announcement in the credits. My vote is five.

Title (Brazil): "A Mãe e a Puta" ("The Mother and the Whore")

Unfortunately, Jean Eustache (1938-1981) belongs like so many once leading French film makers nowadays to the great unknown ones whose movies are hard to find and are not released on international DVDs. Since we have a good old-fashioned video-store in Tucson, I had the chance to watch this 3 1/2-hour marathon masterwork that is not boring for ten seconds.

Since we speak here about one of the most discussed (and most controversially discussed) movies of all times, let me tell you my impression that the endless dialogs, originally typical for the early "Nouvelle Vague" of a Jacques Rivette or Alain Resnais appear almost ridiculous in this movie. The dialogs are basically monologues, mainly the longest ones spoken by Jean-Pierre Léaud. The most characteristic feature is that the intersections of the speeches of two people is almost zero. Léaud, or his character, Alexandre, pleases to tell more about himself than about the topics he is seemingly to speak. Therefore, one can hardly speak about communication in this movie. It is well possible that the director had a gargantuan satire in mind against the idle running of the once so hotly discussed political and sociological ideas, but the type of man Alexandre exists to all times, we find him already in Petron's "Satiricon", which work has actually great resemblance with "The Mother and the Whore".

Alexandre does not only nothing, but he has developed an own kind of metaphysics about the absence of acting, at least acting in the sense of responsibility toward the society whose part he is. He mocks at the people who run to work at 7 c'clock in the morning, when he is just busy having his last drink before he goes to bed in the apartment of one of his girlfriends from whose money he lives. He is unable to speak one sentence without quoting one of the leading thinkers between Nietzsche and Bernanos. Especially Sartre who is shown quickly in the French intellectual café "Aux Deux Magots", where Alexandre, too, is sitting all day, must serve as excuse for the life-style of Alexandre and his colleagues, because they suffer existential crisis from bourgeois nausea. However, the intellectual speeches of Alexandre seem to be rather pseudo-intellectual, and the sentences and quips he cites seem to come rather from a dictionary of quotations than from his actual reading of the respective books.

It is true: This movie demands an extremely broad European knowledge, especially the connoisseurship of French existentialist philosophy and there consequences to the 68 student revolution movement, but if you have this knowledge, than you will enjoy 215 minutes of your life by staring amazed into the TV and crying out with laughing like you have probably not done it since a long time.

This it the type of French movie other artists will use as a reference to make a parody after, or to oversimplify and exaggerate french cinema. A lot of talking, and repeating, a lot of overblown emotions, again a lot of talking between two people. This is what I call a boring movie. A movie I watched at 1.5x speed without any remorse.

A movie like many others before and after that show the missery of being part of a love triangle, no matter how open minded you think you are. Because when it comes to true romantic emotions, there is no place for more than two people. I don't think I am a prude but as this film shows and my past experiences taught me it will not end with a happy ending. But the happy ending I got was that it was over.

The movie carries off the daunting challenge set by its extreme length: the first half or so is essentially a comedy of manners, with Leaud's rampant intellectualism constantly tipping over into borderline absurdity (underlined by the deadpan sketches of his friends and their wantonly do-nothing, posturing world; his manipulation of women almost masterful. But the spectrum shifts to show the psychological complexity beneath the 'whore' - in her long final monologue asserting her humanity and then traveling beyond that to assert the aridness of a relationship that doesn¹t generate children: it's as if the posturing were being ripped apart, as if everything was being reanalyzed from the most basic biology. And that reanalysis elevates the women - they both have careers whereas we¹re never sure how he finances himself; their friendship when it comes seems intuitive to an extent that he lacks, so that he's reduced to moping and grasping at opportunities. The final hour or so is an amazing topography of emotional upheaval, discovery and raw pain. An almost brilliant film that expresses the lie of the facile attitudinizing of the times and has an awesome grasp of psychological ambiguity and rawness.