Passion

Godard's 'Passion' will inevitably draw violent reactions from didactic viewers with a classical Hollywood outlook, even though it expressly addresses the contradictions and pains in discerning just what makes a film "a film". To condemn it as boring or shapeless is to blindly miss the point.

For those of us more inclined to tackle this fascinating question, there is much to luxuriate in here. From even a purely aesthetic viewpoint, the wonderfully incongruent images (like the ship in the forest) and the beautifully lit reconstructions of classical paintings (with their attendant outpourings of classical music) are enough to hold sway.

With these tools, Godard contrasts the passion and belief in labour; the practical against the artistic. Isabelle Huppert's stuttering, incoherent virgin loves her factory job and fights for her "right" to work, while the jaded director Jerzy, surrounded by a bevy of naked beauties during the making of his elusive film, sullenly stages his reconstructions. His work, however, contains no such solace and he becomes morose to the point of inertia by his task of creating a formally perfect but outwardly fragmented piece. Jerzy's constant frustration with having to explain to others what his film is "about" is a poignant running comedic highlight. But that is only part of the battle - practical concerns impinge also. This is painfully clear (and bitterly funny) when Jerzy's ever suffering assistant points out to the frustrated producer the individual cost of each item on the set in an attempt to explain where all the money is going.

The characters aggressive tussling, either through physical pulling and pushing or through their cars (reminiscent of Godard's masterpiece 'Week End'), also signify the difficulty and pain inherent in any kind of birth. The quiet moments call out to be examined and celebrated as much as the grand statement while others jostle for their money, their moment, or even a simple explanation as to what it all means.

Like most of Godard's late work, this mosaic approach will not appeal to all who cross its path (what film ever does?) but, even if it does ultimately fall short of answering any of the questions it asks, adherents will find much to ruminate on.

After 13 years spent in the wilderness of Marxist cine-verite' political commentary, the infant terrible of the French New Wave movement Jean-Luc Godard made a much-touted return to mainstream film-making with SAUVE QUI PEUT (LA VIE) aka EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF (in the U.S.) and SLOW MOTION (in the U.K.) and, for this occasion, the director chose to collaborate with eminent screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere. The result is one of Godard's better latter-day works but, having now caught up with his successive work (apparently also featuring the uncredited hand of Carriere) PASSION, I find myself once again bewildered; while his next few films – FIRST NAME: CARMEN (1983), DETECTIVE (1985) and HAIL, MARY (1986) – once again show a marginal improvement, by all accounts he would again alienate much of his audiences with the remainder of his filmography, of which I am only familiar with the equally frustrating NOUVELLE VAGUE (1990).

Apart from the aforementioned Carriere, PASSION also reunited Godard with Raoul Coutard (although Vittorio Storaro had actually been his first choice) – director and cinematographer had not worked together since their 1960s heyday (more precisely on Godard's surreal road movie masterpiece WEEK-END {1967}) – as well as actors Isabelle Huppert (from SLOW MOTION, where she had played a prostitute) and Michel Piccoli (from CONTEMPT, where he had been a cuckolded screenwriter). The latter film would make a telling comparison with PASSION since they both deal with the world of international movie-making but, while the earlier example did not sacrifice entertainment value when expressing its intellectual integrity, the same cannot be said of the film under review! In fact, the film-within-a-film being shot here seeks, for no particular reason, to recreate some famous tableaux on celluloid underscored by an operatic soundtrack...but, never having been too much of a fan of paintings or opera, regarding them as highbrow artistic mediums, PASSION becomes a pretentious ride to nowhere (Poland notwithstanding)! Indeed, exiled Polish film-maker Jerzy Radziwilowicz decides to head back home at the very end and both Hanna Schygulla and Isabelle Huppert decide to join him on a whim.

The film's Polish director seems more interested in (and distracted by) the two stars (Schygulla plays a hotel owner who is factory owner Piccoli's mistress and Huppert a rebellious factory worker) than in getting anything shot; in a way, I can relate to his inertia since these past two weeks I have not gotten much 'work' done because of a trio of female friends I have been in contact with! Besides, Jerzy is forever complaining of the inadequacy of "Mr. Coutard"'s lighting; amusingly, everybody appearing in the film plays a character with a similar first name as the actor playing him! Ultimately, however, for all the film's intermittent (and frankly slight) amusements (Piccoli has an annoyingly consistent cough, a penchant for roses, and is made to dodge one persistent creditor throughout the film), the sheer fact that female 'actresses' on the set do nothing but pose and shed their clothing for gratuitous full-frontal nudity at times makes the film seem uncomfortably like a highbrow Tinto Brass effort or a lowbrow Peter Greenaway one!

The film was included in Lionsgate 3-Disc Set of Godard films along with FIRST NAME: CARMEN, DETECTIVE and OH, WOE IS ME (1993); like its predecessor, Godard shot a featurette on the making of his current film but, unfortunately, it has not been included in the enclosed supplements and this is one of the reasons why I opted to obtain the film from ulterior sources. Despite my reservations, PASSION was up for the Golden Palm at the Cannes Film Festival (where it competed against eventual co-winner Costa-Gavras' MISSING, Lindsay Anderson's BRITANNIA HOSPITAL, Werner Herzog's FITZCARRALDO, Wim Wenders' HAMMETT, Michelangelo Antonioni's IDENTIFICATION OF A WOMAN, Jerzy Skolimowski's MOONLIGHTING, The Taviani Brothers' THE NIGHT OF THE SHOOTING STARS {1981} and Ettore Scola's LA NUIT DE VARENNES and, ironically, won a prize for Coutard!) and nominated for a couple of Cesar awards (where it competed against the Carriere-scripted DANTON and THE RETURN OF MARTIN GUERRE!).

This is a good introduction to late-period Godard: all (ideological) passion spent, Oncle Jean is just going to show us a good time. Pretty girls lolling around the pool naked, glamourous stars like Hanna Schygulla with little to do, Isabelle Huppert when she could still play dewy-eyed ingenues, a ridiculous peplum being filmed by greedy, unscrupulous types (the director should have been played by Jacques Dutronc instead of that dour Polish actor).

It's 1982,these are the Thatcher-Reagan years, nobody thinks about Vietnam or the Palestinians or civil wars in Africa--people only want to make money. Godard gives us hip product-placement, Rembrandt, Caravaggio, Mozart instead of Coke or Pepsi.

If one were to hold up a camera to life and to film for ninety minutes, the result would be, more than likely, a boring snapshot of the banal and mundane. These snapshots of life would have no narrative, would be disjointed and chaotic, for such is life. Godard's Passion struck me as just that, a snapshot of the banality of life, the disconnected, seemingly meaningless misadventures of ordinary people, captured in one moment of time. But of course, these are not ordinary people in ordinary circumstances, these are the creations of Godard's imagination, yet the presentation of the content of the film is without structure, narrative or any of the Hollywood conventions of 'good filmmaking'. I found the film compelling and intriguing; I wanted to know more about the people and the universe that they populated. The lack of narrative structure was not a negative factor in my enjoyment of the film, for the anarchic content was, of itself, enough to keep my mind from wandering away from it. Godard's reflexive jibes at cinema convention were acerbic and witty, carrying with them a tremendous knowledge of the mechanics of filmmaking. The story of Passion, what story there is, is subservient to the process of filmmaking and Godard's desire to subvert it. For me, that is what makes this film so entertaining.

The influence of Godard's work on other filmmakers is probably most profound in European cinema where the role of the Auteur is, if not quite nurtured, respected. It was a delightful surprise for me when, having seen Passion, I began to draw connections between Godard's storytelling and popular TV comedy. The First Series of the BBC comedy 'The Office', by Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, leapt to mind as I mulled over Passion. The non-structure of Passion is very much evident in The Office, where the stories unfold as snapshots and moments in time, captured, and heavily influenced by the presence of the cameras. The Office is probably the most original piece of TV comedy since Monty Python's Flying Circus, yet I can see the influence of filmmakers like Godard in its presentation. Although there exists an A plot, B plot and guest plots, typical TV structure, in The Office, it is the presentation that makes all the difference. If handled in a more traditional fashion, it is highly unlikely that The Office would ever have been made, never mind popular. Even the origins of The Office pay homage to the anti-structural approach of filmmakers like Godard. Conceived and performed as an adlib piece on a BBC director's course by Gervais and Merchant, it shined with originality and a deep knowledge of and healthy disrespect for, convention; much like Godard really.

The success of The Office owes much to its originality and wit but also to the possibility that the audience is searching for a new experience in terms of storytelling both on television and film. The irony is that this type of storytelling has been with us since Godard and long before Godard. Perhaps the audience has finally caught up with the filmmakers.

Very little in this film can honestly be said to grab the attention for long, unless perhaps, you are a Godard completest. An art historian might appreciate the messages hidden within the old master painting being turned into a movie by the director at the centre of the piece. For the rest of us it's hard to follow threads of the various partially connected stories in which largely unappealing characters bicker, berate and bed one another. Jerzy a Polish movie director, has literally 'lost the light' in his big budget production. His efforts are hamstrung by news of Solidarity's emergent uprising in his native land, the financial demands of his producers and his involvement with two women : the owner of the hotel in which most of his film company lodge, and a dowdy sacked worker at her husbands factory. That's pretty well it. There's not much more. The images of the old masters Jerzy is attempting to turn into a film, although he seems to have little concept of exactly how, are nicely lit but the films exteriors around the promising location of Lake Geneva are drab, the interiors even worse and despite some big names among the cast there is little charisma in evidence. I've watched it twice and sadly 'Passion', an oddly inappropriate title in itself, made no more impression on the second viewing. The Godard of 'Pierrot Le Fou' (a film I loved) seems a long way from the Godard of 'Passion'. Other reviewers have clearly found a meaning and beauty that I have missed. But hey! If it floats your boat then thats good.