Vivre Sa Vie (My Life to Live)

"Vivre Sa Vie" is one of the best films to come out of the 1960s, it was the fourth film by that new wave dynamo Jean-Luc Godard, he wasn't afraid of challenging the way we viewed film, weather it was how he staged his scenes or directed his actors, there was something new and exciting about it. That being said, "Vivre Sa Vie" may be his most subdued film of this period.

The story centers on Nana (Anna Karina), a young girl who works at a record store with aspirations of becoming an actress. Nana becomes unsuccessful with her dream and soon resorts to prostitution, there he life is tragically cut short when she is killed by her pimp. I don't feel like I'm giving anything away at telling you the fate of Nana, since it is plainly clear at the beginning of the film, that it doesn't end well for her.

"Vivre Sa Vie" is more about capturing these moments of time in Nana's life, Godard titles these moments in tableau, there are twelve in total. Godard explains that these tableau's work as pebbles or blocks in time, they are meant to show these little snapshots of Nana at this moment in her life. Because of that, many plot points are often not shown but referred to, Godard even said he wasn't sure as to how long of a span the film is supposed to focus on, it may be months even years, but to him it didn't matter, what mattered was following Nana, almost to a point where the film feels like a documentary, but of course Godard is dealing with fictional material, yet what he does is play with our expectations with what a fictional film could be.

Much of convention is dropped in the world of Godard, he plays with the elements of film like a symphony, using every tool to its full advantage and never afraid to experiment. Some critics consider "Vivre Sa Vie" as simply a film about different conversations, and indeed that's much of what goes on. The opening tableau is Nana in a cafe talking to her ex, but Godard makes the extreme choice of filming directly behind them, showing only their heads. When I first saw this film, that scene always seemed annoying, yet it grew on me the more I viewed it, Godard was making the conversation more realistic, by not seeing the faces, we get the feeling of eavesdropping on a conversation. Similar scenes are all shot differently, sometimes with simple panning from one person to another, and other times from a more conventional two-shot cut. The effect is never distracting, and Godard seems more interested in letting the camera be part of the emotion of the scene.

These techniques aside, what draws me into this film more often is how liberated it is, both in technique and in theme. It is in fact a movie about freedom, and personal liberty, it begins with a quote from Montaigne "You must only lend yourself to others but give yourself to yourself." Nana is a woman at a constant struggle of finding freedom for herself. She is denied her freedom when she becomes a prostitute, but there is a resistance in her as she yearns for love and happiness. Tragically she becomes a martyr and in the film's most famous scene, she is shown inside a movie theatre watching Carl Dreyer's classic silent film "The Passion of Joan of Arc", Godard makes a direct parallel with Nana and Joan in the film, it's also her one burst of emotion as she is seen crying in the theatre.

The film seems to be fighting this philosophical question as well regarding freedom and love, which is summed up wonderfully when Nana runs into an actual philosopher at a cafe. Here he makes a parable regarding "The Three Musketeers" which could directly relate to Nana's own struggles. She questions the philosopher, and challenges him, and it's interesting how she is seen quite intelligent and literate, how you may ask did this girl get driven into prostitution?

It's also relevant to point out, "Vivre Sa Vie" could be thought of as Godard's own fascination with his star Anna Karina. At the time this film was made, the two were married, they made seven films together, their later ones particularly "Pierrot le Fou" showed off their disintegrating relationship, but at the time of this film, you could see Godard was at least in love with her face, Karina is given some of the most flattering close-ups in history. Karina complained that she thought the film made her ugly, but I don't see it. Karina gives Nana a beautiful sadness, and a shine that comes out in her actions; Godard gives her great freedom to play around, including a hypnotic scene where she dances around to a rocking tune trying to get the attention to a young man whom she loves. There is as much joy in her performance as there is in meloncholy and contemplation.

There's so much about "Vivre Sa Vie" that remains with you once you watch it, like most of Godard's films of the 1960s, it's youthful and vibrant, it holds a certain unique cinematic point of view. Godard seemed to be concerned with youthful ideas back then, most of his films were about young people who were alienated, confused, and questioning their existence. He also had more encyclopedic knowledge about film than anyone and he used it as his advantage.

Today Godard continues to take chances for better or for worse; his last film "Film Socialism", was completely incomprehensible, yet you felt there was a mind working trying to stretch the film language as far as it could go. "Vivre Sa Vie" still surprises and delights, it's a film that was and is ahead of its time.

The Doll

One of my favorite opening shots in any movie comes from the charming 1919 silent fairy tale comedy "The Doll". In it, we see the film's director Ernst Lubitsch opening up a toy box and creating the scene from cardboard scenery and dolls for the characters. The film begins and the dolls turn into real life characters while the cardboard scenery remains. It's such a nice little wink and shows off Lubitsch's playful sense of humour to the audience.

"The Doll" takes place in a made up kingdom where a young man named Lancelot (Hermann Thimig) is being pressured by his Uncle the Baron to take a wife. The Baron wants to see his family name live on but Lancelot is a bit of a prudish momma's boy who seems to be afraid of women. He doesn't want to get married, he runs away from his Uncle and takes solace in a monastery which houses a bunch of monks who happen to be broke. Lancelot's Uncle sends word to him that if he decides to marry, he'll give him a large sum of money which the monks need desperately. Lancelot is still hesitant but luckily there is a toymaker in town who specializes in making life-sized women dolls for men.

The dolls are all wound up and can follow orders with the push of a button, so Lancelot figures this is the perfect way to get him from marrying a real woman and still get the money he needs to help the monks.

One such doll is modeled after the toymaker's daughter Ossi (Ossi Ozwalda). When the incompetent assistant accidentally breaks the doll, Ossi takes its place and goes off to marry Lancelot. Lancelot still isn't any the wiser, even as Ossi shows signs of not being a real doll. The toymaker meanwhile realizes that his daughter has gone off to marry Lancelot without his knowing, and his hair begins to raise and turn instantly white with worry.

"The Doll" was made while Ernst Lubitsch was still making movies in Germany, before his golden age of making sophisticated romantic comedies in Hollywood. I always found Lubitsch to be an anomaly; besides him the most famous German directors were Fritz Lang, and F.W. Murnau, these were men who had a reputation for being controlling and somewhat humourless when it came to their films. They were pioneers in what is now known as German expressionism, which usually dealt in dark genres such as horrors or thrillers. Lubitsch always dealt with the lighter side of life, because he had a sense of humour about it.

I've seen many old photographs of Lubitsch and in every one he's always smiling and is usually holding a cigar in his mouth. He seemed to be a man who didn't take life too seriously and therefore didn't make anything sacred.

"The Doll" could be described as one of the very first sex, comedies. Sex has always remained in the movies countless times no matter how much the censors try to take it off the screens. In another director's hands, sex could be seen as sensuous or tantalizing, but Lubitsch simply found it funny. He was probably the first director ever to make fun of sex, and what happens when the lights go out in the bedroom.

With "The Doll", he makes fun of the implications of marrying a toy. "Just as long as it doesn't hurt", says Lancelot when he agrees to marry the doll. The toymaker even gives Lancelot some maintenance tips for the doll, making sure to "oil it every two weeks", and make sure "to give it a good dusting". It's that kind of innuendo which makes "The Doll" hilariously modern, but it's done so innocently, it never sounds crass or dirty.

The glue that holds the film together has got to be Ossi Oswalda, who plays the wonderfully bratty daughter of the toymaker as well as the doll itself. Ossi appeared in a number of Lubitsch's German films, and she seems to have a wonderful comic sensibility. There is just the right sense of charm and mischief in Ossi's performance that Lubistch must've took a shine to her particularly for this film.

The world, "The Doll" inhabits though is like a child's make believe land, and it's with that aesthetic, the film is able to sustain a sense of innocence, despite the rather grown up subject matter. Only a director like Lubitsch could create such a world where even sex could be thought of as so innocent, under his hands it never became taboo, just fun.

When someone talks about the films of Ernst Lubitsch, they are usually given a nickname, it's called "The Lubitsch Touch". No one can exactly explain what his touch was, everyone has their own theories towards what it was. I suppose the point is, once Lubitsch died, his magical touch died with him. No matter how many people tried, they couldn't duplicate his movies. They were a perfect balance of taboo subject matter, and popular entertainment, and I suppose another word for that would be class. But Lubitsch never thought a joke was too cheap to use, you could tell he found anything funny. Did I mention the toymaker's name was Hilarious?

Late Autumn

There is a serenity that comes over me when I watch a film like "Late Autumn", it's a film directed by Yasujiro Ozu so in that sense it already holds a special place in my heart. Ozu was a master filmmaker who made wonderful masterpieces almost all the time. His films were rarely seen outside of Japan for the longest time, but now over the years he's been rediscovered and can now be seen as one of cinema's masters.

What you should know about "Late Autumn" is it's a reworking of the ongoing theme which was prominent in many of Ozu's films, the disillusionment of the family. In this film the relationship between a daughter and her widowed mother is interrupted by the insistence that the daughter should be married. Both woman seem content with the fact they they live together, but society has made it necessary that the daughter should marry.

The mother in this film is played by one of the great beauties of cinema, Setsuko Hara. In earlier incarnations of the same plot, Ozu had Hara play the daughter, but now she is middle aged. Hara seems older, slower, but her beauty and her quiet sadness seems to be even more prominent. Hara wasn't in movies much, she soon retired after Ozu passed away, and in her late career she mostly worked almost exclusively with him. Seeing her in this film is like seeing a history between an actress and her director, it isn't only a character she's playing, but it's an embodiment of an idea instilled in her by a filmmaker.

But "Late Autumn" also has its playful side, it's a modern tragedy but with some wise human comedy in the mix. The trouble makers of the film happen to be three middle aged men who were friends of Hara's dead husband. They plan to play matchmakers for the daughter, it's almost as if the idea came to them on a whim. The tragedy here is how the mother and daughter become pawns in the games of these foolish men. No one asked them to interfere with their perfectly content life, but they have it in their mind it's for the best of both parties that the daughter be married off.

But we don't see anyone judged in "Late Autumn", there are no villains, the tragedy is mostly done organically by typical human error, we understand everyone does things with the best intentions, but change must be accepted, and we mourn for the way of life that will be lost.

"Late Autumn" is a patient film, it asks you to pay attention, for with all Ozu films, he's fascinated with the behaviours and the relationships of his characters. It's brilliant how Ozu can bring out character relationships in a cinematic way. Sometimes he emphasizes a close connection between two people by having them mirror each others movements, or sometimes it's used to show off a comedic situation.

But Ozu is also a master at showing the sadness of life, and also the joys. He shows life as a passage of time full of hope and heartaches. Perhaps no one has been able to show the beauty of loneliness better than Ozu. This is done in the final moments with Setsuko Hara where she is left alone in her room, and Ozu gives us her little moment to reflect that her daughter will no longer be there to greet her home, she is left to continue her life alone. Hara is perfect in this scene, every little movement shows volumes of what she is feeling, that's the secret of Ozu cinema, he was fascinated with the little habits people did, the slight mundane things that filled up their lives, it's what his cinema is all about, it's what make us care for these people, they seem all the more real to us. There are moments in "Late Autumn" where a touch of the wrist or a tilt of the head had more behind it than any emotional monologue could ever tell us, that's the signature of a master.