“Zill and Jim”: a sassy review
I swear on the cinematic bible, if anyone dares to claim that “Gilles and Jim” (1962) is not a milestone in the Nouvelle Vague movement and cinema as a whole, or even worse, labels it as rubbish, I will fervently defend their right to take that opinion and shove it. It’s crucial that our relationship with cinema, its creators, and their creations remain dynamic, lest they fossilize into mere museum exhibits. On that note, we all recall how the youth in the dreadful “Bande a part”(1964) treated museums, don’t we?
François Truffaut, the director of “Gilles and Jim”, made a remarkable entrance into the international film scene with the unparalleled “400 Blows” (1959). The film’s final shot brilliantly encapsulates the unstoppable yearning of the human spirit for freedom. Thus began an extraordinary journey with the adventures of Antoine Duanel, reminiscent of Michael Apt’s “Up” series and Richard Linklater’s “Before” trilogy. That said, I hold a somewhat heretical view, which you may well disdain: Truffaut lost his way during his creative maturation. This man, who clearly adored cinematic genres, stopped using them as a springboard for modernism and instead adopted a more classically oriented directorial approach.
“Gilles and Jim” is a film in constant flux, mirroring the characters sprinting in the iconic bridge scene and, thankfully, at times “running” faster than the narrator’s discourse – who, let’s admit, has too much to say and doesn’t know what to prioritize.
Also, while I generally oppose anachronistic critical analysis, I must concede that his films’ portrayal of women can be questionable at times. I hesitate to label it as sexist, but the depiction of Catherine in the film as a smug source of torment for the two male characters, while remaining elusive even to the omniscient narrator, might serve as evidence. Heck, she doesn’t even get her name in the film’s title.
Often referred to in film guides as an ode to passionate, all-consuming love, ‘Jules and Jim’ is a cinematic masterpiece that challenges traditional romantic narratives. Rather than romanticizing the past, François Truffaut focuses on the friendship between Jules and Jim, while also depicting the devastating impact of World War I on the lives and mental states of those who experienced it. However, the war is a mere backdrop to the personal dramas and passions that consume our protagonists.
When asked to identify the defining features of French cinema, many cinephiles would point to ‘Jules and Jim’ as a prime example, particularly for its engaging dialogue and exploration of unconventional relationships.
In terms of the former, the characters in ‘Jules and Jim’ are prone to over-analyzing their emotions, often discussing love more than they actually experience it. The narrator’s constant commentary, explanations, and interjections can sometimes distract from the film’s true essence: its playful experimentation with form, its momentary inspirations, its cinematic celebration of the present through the innovative use of the freeze-frame technique, and above all, its dynamism.
‘Jules and Jim’ is a film in perpetual motion, mirroring the ceaseless movement of its characters, most notably in the iconic bridge scene. The pace of the film often outstrips the narrator’s verbose commentary, creating a sense of urgency and spontaneity. In essence, the film encapsulates much of the vocabulary of modern cinema, a fact that supersedes any revisionist critiques and stands as a defiant response to the cynicism of various critics, myself included.
As for the latter element, ‘Jules and Jim’ is a film that refuses to pass judgment on its characters’ decision to live together in the countryside. It presents a progressive portrayal of a relationship model that has rarely been so candidly explored in cinema – although Ernst Lubitsch’s ‘Design for Living’ (1933) could arguably claim precedence.
Let’s face it, Truffaut’s handling of the two main characters in his film is masterful, and they’ve certainly earned their place in the title.
However, history has righted a wrong by ensuring Jeanne Moreau is the one actress that every well-informed film buff can recall. She’s a staple in our cinephile trivia games, alongside Oscar Werner and Henri Serre. Moreau’s character, with her unforgettable rendition of “Le Tourbillon de la Vie”, has achieved cinematic and musical immortality, and found a life beyond the confines of the film. Moreau brilliantly transcends her role as the “woman in black”, not just a love interest for the two men (who Truffaut portrays as innocent until they meet her), but a fully-fledged character in her own right, who boldly asserts her place in the shifting dynamics between them. This balance was cleverly restored by Godard two years later in his film “Bande a part”, a subtly erotic and unconventional response to Truffaut’s work.
Don’t miss the chance to see this film in theaters. It’s the kind of movie that’s worth revisiting at different stages of your life, to see how your perspective changes over time, in relation to the characters, yourself, and those around you, and most importantly, how you view “tragic romances” and their idealization.
Jules and Jim will be released in theaters on Thursday, July 24, as part of the Summer Classics series.
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