The Little Soldier

In the past couple of weeks, I've been on a Godard kick where I've seen "Alphaville", "My Life to Live" and "Breathless", along with "Le Petit Soldat." I don't think that it reflects all that badly on the latter movie to say that it's not really in a league with the first three, all of which are near-masterpieces at the very least.

This was Godard's first feature film made after "Breathless", and you can see him straining to give "Le Petit Soldat" a different feel - something where the stakes are a little higher, something more engaged with the political realities and real ethics of the world. One might conclude that this concrete engagement with politics isn't really Jean-Luc's cup of tea. It's telling that the best scene, Bruno's long closing monologue at the end of the film, is as involved with art and abstraction as it is with the milieu of the Algerian conflict around which the film centers itself.

The camera-work isn't as radical as some of Godard's other films, and his locations in Geneva and Zurich don't provide him with as much eye candy as his native Paris. Even more so than other early Godard films, it has the feel of a documentary. In this case, the documentary is a combination between a piece of political agitation and a seminar on individual freedom with respect to modern politics.

While the typical doomed Godardian hero spends most of his or her time in desperate circumstances, they frequently continue living in blithe ignorance of the fate that awaits them, spending their time in bed with one another or in pseudo-philosophical conversation. Bruno, the protagonist of "Le Petit Soldat", is different. The sense of desperation within him is palpable; Bruno is increasingly hemmed in by competing French and Algerian ideologies that make no sense to him, but nevertheless exercise more and more control over his freedom as the movie progresses.

The much-discussed torture scene is surprisingly long and effective. Torture, while no less in vogue now than it was in the early '60s, doesn't get much screen time these days. What Godard does so well is show the banality of the torturers, who go about their work with half-hearted second-hand assertions about what is necessary in times like these.

(Flash Review)

This film's approach, part of the French New Wave, was fresh for the time but it fails to deliver a cohesive impact. The two key characters are both part of terrorist groups involved with the Algerian war. The man with a right-wing group and the woman with the left-wing group. They unconvincingly fall for each other during a phony-feeling and rambling photography session scene as he poses as a photojournalist and talks about one's defending ideas not physical territories. As that plays out this guy also needs to assassinate someone yet isn't a true professional so lacks the nerve to do the job. Because people he associates with continue to see him fail they think he is a double agent and lose faith in him and subject him to torture. This film was originally banned for the torture scene yet today feels non-threatening and fake. This didn't work for me and what's the deal with all the painter Paul Klee references?

This film is generally regarded as the sole clunker from the period when this great director was routinely hitting em out of the park, a span from 1959 to 1966 or, if you need it put less abstractly, from "Breathless" to "Masculine Feminine". The main problem with it is that this most soberly realistic of Godard's films is also one of his dullest and I do not think it is coincidental. Godard is at his best with tongue firmly implanted in cheek and the humor, like good Gallic coffee, copious, strong and black. Also madcap and more than a bit off center. Conversely, in this Cold War political movie I did not laugh once. And a political Godard without his trademark mordant humor, zaniness or quirkiness is like Fritz Lang or Carol Reed on a bad day. If I want serious films about the Franco/Algerian conflict then I'll watch Pontecorvo, for cryin out loud. C plus.

PS...I also think that when a Godard film is not set in Paris, as this one is, then there is a palpable sense of loss, ("Contempt" honorably excepted).

As a fan of Claire Denis' Beau Travail in which there are extensive references to Le Petit Soldat, I've been keen to see this film for a while. My expectations were high and after viewing it two days ago I feel like I haven't been let down. I still can't believe that it's made over 40 years ago - it's that fresh, that immediate in its emotional poignancy.

What grand topics Godard is trying to address: do we have ideals? are they more significant than our personal pride? knowing we're powerless, should we just go with the flow? Godard's answers are vague and uncertain, but the manner in which he answers them is vital. His hero knows that he can't win, he doesn't even know which camp he's supposed to be in, but he resists. While he sees his world as quite meaningless, he allows himself to be seduced by beauty and dignity: classical music, Velasquez' grey eyes, photography, Britanny's light, "did I cry?"... In a world where no one can be trusted, he chooses to be his own ally. He finds his comrade in a woman of a different camp - you can read it as either his disillusion with ideology or his faith in love.

The connection between Le Petit Soldat and Beau Travail is so strong that Beau Travail feels like an offspring of Le Petit Soldat. It goes beyond the more obvious references (I have a lot of time ahead of me; maybe freedom begins with remorse; the time for action is over). Both are so true to their point of view that they border on solipsism; both adore the beauty of flesh to the point of fetish (Subor has the most expressive biceps I've ever seen in my life; Gregoire Colin, whose presence bears a striking resemblance to the young Subor, is known as "Gregoire the Magnificent"); and both Godard and Denis are masters at capturing a spontaneity in which no thought can be hidden from the camera. While Godard despairs over a world that is losing its ideals, Denis rediscovers meanings in a world that's supposedly meaningless to begin with. For this reason, I'd recommend watching the two films together at least once.

The beauty and the expressiveness of the film assured that its soul effects can't be achieved in any other media form. The cinematography is invigorating, gritty, and elegant. It's a film that's at the same time dry and lush - dry because of its understated, calm tone(the torture scene!) and lush because of its rich undercurrents. A crispy, translucent film. Its marvels are designed to fade the moment they bloom (Subor and Karina's Spanish salute to each other).

Acting is superb. Subor is a mixture of physical reserve and mental sensitivity. His presence is so edgy and powerful that from time to time you forget he's really as good-looking as any dark and handsome man. Anna Karina's performance is ethereal - her beauty must have inspired Godard to say "woman should not age over 25." Both are elusive and candid, which adds to the dreamlike quality of the film.

If you believe in personal and honest filmmaking, this one is for you. I've seen a number of Godard's movies, but none had drawn me closer to Godard the filmmaker than Le Petit Soldat. In other films he's observant, and in this one he's self-aware. The story is heady, but he narrates in a calm tone, like he's in a negotiation with you. Because of that, you hear every word he says.

It took a couple of rewinds and essentially a second viewing to fully appreciate this film, and even then it was hit and miss. I'm guessing that it must have been more powerful in the 1960's, not because it's message isn't still relevant today, but because it's counterculture method of filmmaking, the philosophical and practically stream of consciousness dialog, and depiction of alienation of youth in a world at war where neither side seems right would have resonated more.

One of the issues is that the long soliloquy from the main character (Michel Subor) towards the end meanders and doesn't deliver a payoff. Throughout the film he wants to talk poetry, philosophy, and politics with everyone - including the captors who torture him - but often doesn't say anything that is particularly enlightened. How much smarter is the comment of his girlfriend (Anna Karina), who much more quietly says that the French will ultimately lose the colonial war because they lack the 'ideal' they had in WWII; in other words, ultimately, they're in the wrong.

The film tells a coherent story, unlike some of Godard's later political efforts, but it has a raw and unpolished feeling about it, with bumpy shots out of cars, lots of dubbing, and aspects that aren't all that fleshed out (such as Karina's character). To some, that might be part of its appeal.

As this film deals with the Algerian War through the lens of violence in Europe between the range of people in support of the FLN (intellectuals, sympathizers, and terrorists) and French forces that seem to be lumping them all into that latter category, and because it has some a dramatically different style, it may make an interesting (though quite dark) double feature with 'The Battle of Algiers' (1966).