Film Socialisme - 9/30, Lincoln Center

Jean-Luc Godard's latest feature is difficult to say the least and beyond my reach in so many ways that, despite thorough internet research*, conversations with French-speakers who saw the film with me, and the erudite post-screening discussion I had the opportunity to witness, all I can offer is a bit of journalism for those who don't have the chance to see it right away.

The whole movie is shot in digital video with a wide variety of qualities, from high-definition to cell phone. There's no "plot", or narrative in the classic sense (or any sense I can see), but there are three distinct parts. The opening titles include two frames full of names of intellectuals and film-makers who are supposedly quoted in one way or another in the film- two whole screens' worth of names, and they pass in a flash. From what I gather, much of the dialogue is actually just quotations from these people. The factor of greatest obfuscation is the English subtitles: poetic fragments, no more than three or four words on the screen at a time, often none at all, that may be key words or ideas from what is being said but are nonsensical by themselves. People fluent in both languages told me that the subtitles were funny because of the distorted counterpoint they provided, but they were meaningless to me. I assume Godard is responsible for this madness but that information is not available. "He is fucking with you," one of my sources suggested.

The three movements are:

1. "Things Like That"

This is the best part of the movie, which is always kind of a bummer to have first, presenting in a complicated and overwhelming barrage various things happening on a cruise ship. Between general shots of buffets, casinos, hallways, and decks, there are a small number of characters that return. I recall:

-A photographer and a woman (twentysomethings?) hanging out on the deck- he takes pictures and she says things about Europe and Africa (quotations?).

-A young girl (early teens?) who is seen sometimes walking and talking with an old man (father? grandfather? lover?), sometimes wandering alone (sleepwalking?), and sometimes close to a boy who appears even younger than her who is interested in her breasts (brother? little boyfriend?).

-Another old guy with a different young (not as young) girl.

-Patti Smith, which surprised the hell out of me. She just walks around with a guitar.

There were others, but the whole experience was so dizzying I can't remember them. The wikipedia page* for the film fills in a few details in regards to identities, but not much.

2. "Our Europe"

Two women, one in a Castro outfit with a camera, the other more professionally attired, apparently journalists of some kind, bother a family who are having some kind of inner drama I couldn't understand. I got the impression someone in the family was involved in politics at a high level. Wikipedia is slightly helpful here again, and in line with what my fellow audience members told me.

3. "Our Humanities"

Footage from various areas around the Mediterranean with text flashes. An abstract politico-philosophical travelogue.

Three guests offered very brief commentary after the show. Godard biographer Richard Brody, often the most interesting interviewee in nouvelle vague-related DVD featurettes, pointed out that the film was a perfect example of Godard's idea of montage, which he defined as any juxtaposition of two or more things ("des choses", a phrase appearing in huge letters many times in the film) and also mentioned that the film offers "a four-part political framework" for the Mediterranean but did not elaborate. Annette Michelson, Professor Emeritus at Tisch, read an excerpt from a New Yorker review by John Updike* of an Edward Said book about artists' late works, not hard to connect to what may well be the 80-year old master's final film. "The power of subjectivity in the late works of art is the irascible gesture with which it takes leave of the works themselves," she told us, quoting Updike (quoting Said [quoting Adorno]). Jean-Michel Frodon, former editor of Cahiers du cinéma, brought up the idea of a "binary code" in the work. The other two raised their eyebrows but I wasn't totally following it.

I know this film says something about European dependence on America. I know it says something about Spanish history and Greek current events. I know it says something about cinema. But I have no idea what it's saying. The way it's shot, edited, and intertitled is kind of amazing, holding interest until the long scenes of dialogue which are painfully boring. Because if you don't speak French, you're screwed. When Film Socialisme comes around again, you can take that or leave it.