On the run, self-declared asshole and car thief Michel shoots and kills a French policeman. Without money and with few options, he returns to Paris and reconnects with an old-fling, Patricia. Patricia is an American in Paris who is hawking papers for the New York Herald Tribune while she tries to break into journalism. Together in her apartment, Michel spends his time trying to have sex with her, while she is uninterested, ponderous, and morose—eventually sharing that she’s pregnant and that it’s probably Michel’s. He is unfazed, blames her, and continues wanting sex (#classact). Patricia eventually learns that Michel is wanted by the police and must decide what to do. She both admits she’s in love with him, and admits that he’s a bad guy she should not be in love with. A choice is made and someone dies.
“Breathless” is a film by famed French director Jean-Luc Godard and one of the early examples of French New Wave cinema. And I didn’t care for it much at all (last year I watched Godard’s “Contempt”, which I found much more interesting but didn’t care for either). Now on year five of screening films and seeing (or pretending to see) some greater depth in cinema, I clearly still have my limits and biases. And while critics hail this film for its attitude, coolness, jump cuts, and commentary on nihilism, I failed to see profundity, just plainness. Its characters were young and uninteresting, and the film is drained of any suspense. I can appreciate that the film carries a visual style and general attitude, and that it’s part of a movement that would influence the next 50 years of film. But as a story, I didn’t care for it and wouldn’t bother with it again.