Vivre Sa Vie (1962)

During the 1960's, Jean-Luc Godard made fifteen feature-length pictures that owed themselves to the French New Wave movement, where young, "reckless" filmmakers made audacious attempts to defy the conventions of mainstream French cinema. Godard among many others decided to figuratively illustrate the book of common cinematic conventions and proceed to rip them up before concocting their own rebellious form of filmmaking, which, overall, seemed to want to hit the bases of reality's imperfections, coldness in story and characters, violence, and the physical and metaphorical chaos of modern society.

Some of the above themes are what Godard uses to write and direct Vivre Sa Vie, a thought-provoking and consistently fascinating mood-piece, focusing on a woman by the name of Nana, played by the beautiful Anna Karina. Nana is a young Parisian twentysomething, aimlessly drifting through life after she leaves the safe but relatively unremarkable confines of her homelife, which involved a husband and a child. She's heavily strapped for cash, with her job as a shopgirl providing for what little income she already has, and soon realizes that leading a viable life on so little is just not a reality.

She decides to take up life as a prostitute, which she'll earn better money doing instead of the day-in-and-day-out drudgery of being a shopgirl. She becomes the employee of Raoul (Sady Rebbot), your average pimp who takes advantage of Nana's youngness and gorgeous looks in order to turn a profit.

Throughout the entire film, Godard conducts Vivre Sa Vie with pure, uneasy coldness, staging the picture into twelve separate chapters ("tableaus"). Each chapter, marked by a descriptive title-card, gives insight into Nan's particular stage in life at that moment in time and provides for a neatly-punctual little narrative that Godard smoothly orchestrates.

Vivre Sa Vie ("My Life to Live" in English) seems like a film that would be made in present times because of its documentary-style filmmaking (more formerly known as "cinéma vérité"). More informally, the film bears a slice-of-life realism to it that is just beginning to gain considerable momentum in American cinema and only proves that Godard was ahead of his time, making a film like this in 1962.

With the film's polished and clear videography, Godard strayed away from the hand-held-camera techniques of his earlier films such as Breathless and his final New Wave picture of the 1960's, Weekend. Godard uses what is known as a Mitchell camera to capture his carefully-framed and elegant shots that point where few cameras have pointed before. Godard continues to defy normalcy by pointing the camera at places uncommon, such as the back of Nana's head while she's speaking in conversation, or allowing the camera to hold in place during one long shot. Godard's camera techniques are aplenty and his ambition is most often met with an unexpected and very pleasant success.

Furthermore, Godard knows how to write meaningful, sometimes philosophical dialog that finds ways to be hugely relevant and even deeply-contemplative. Consider the scene where Raoul tells Nana the value of a prostitute, detailing her job description and her role as a woman without many rights and robbed of her individuality and her humanity. She's a piece of meat for lonely men searching for a quick sexual fix that often finds ways to be completely unsexual and unromantic. Raoul illustrates this idea of what

Fmovies: The French New Wave remains one of the finest movements in film history. Jean-Luc Godard was one of the most innovative filmmakers to emerge from this movement, and Vivre sa vie is one of the best films ever. Long before the Hong Kong cinema proved substance could be downplayed with style, Godard was doing it. The film's plot follows a woman's descent into prostitution, but the story isn't what people will talk about after viewing the film. Godard breaks every Hollywood rule and pulls it off nicely.

If you want to see the conventions of Hollywood broken and a true auteur at work, rent Vivre sa vie.

(minor spoilers ahead)

I've started to get a little more used to Godard, and now by My Life to Live I know I can expect anything from him, though it's sometimes a style that he presents frankly, stylishly, or in an experimentally real approach. Along with his masterful cinematographer Raoul Coutard, the mis en scene he creates in each episode is equally satisfying. And there is a terrific balance in how the camera may just stay for minutes at a time on a character before moving and how the camera may show off (impressively) for the viewer.

For example, there's a moment when Nana (played by Godard's wife Anna Karina) is a café, and gun shots are heard outside, the camera seems to cut - or move - to the sounds and beats of shots being fired, tracking like this all the way across the bar to the window. It was stunning to see that being done, not just for the sake of the scene's twist to intensity, but it perfectly skims the line of stage-ness and reality- if you were positioned in that café, how would you see things as your head turns to look to the street? Godard raises and answers some film-making questions that pay off in the best new-wave type fashion. His dialog, too, is fascinating, and a philosophical discussion between two characters gives me an indication as to what might have inspired Richard Linklater, perhaps.

Then there's Anna Karina as Nana, a woman who leaves her husband and child (you have to listen sharp to note when the child's mentioned) and gets kicked out of her home by the concierge. She has a job in a record store, but doesn't keep it, wanders the streets, sees a movie (very emotionally touching scene), and tries to get an acting job, or some money together. Then she gets drawn into, without an ounce of remorse, the prostitution ring-around, learning that there isn't nearly as much emphasis on lawbreaking in the business in Paris as there is with medical concerns. Karina, with a face, eyes, hair, and body that has a sweet level of (distant) attraction, plays Nana in a wonderful way- we get inklings that she can be happy (dancing to music in a pool-hall is the highlight), though she's at best when she hides it under her demeanor. She smokes, she has a lot of sex, she has talks that sometimes don't go anywhere, but is the viewer ever let in to who she really is or what her motives are day to day? This is a credit to her, as well as Godard, in creating this memorable figure in the early 60's New-wave of French cinema.

Credit should also be given to Michael Legrand's theme (though repetitive, has a sort of purpose for many scenes).

Vivre Sa Vie fmovies. My father had a lot of trouble to explain me what those men were doing, laying against the wall on a busy Sunday street, where there were a number of women in flashy clothes going up and down the street, looking at the men who passed by instead of doing window-shopping like me, and my father. It was 1954, in Lisbon. I came to know the men were pimps, and although I always respected the 'girls who were in the life', the pimp became my pet hate, to this day.

Does Goddard make an outstanding political speech here? I'm not sure. But now I understand why everybody was speaking of his 'Nana' in the Sixties. It's a poignant story, clear and sharp, with no tears but more like a gut punch. Particularly for the (unexpected?) ending. I disagree with those who said that the 12 scenes of the movie are 'unconnected'. They are connected! But the film should be fully appreciated on a second viewing for it, may be. These days, people are not able to cope with this much philosophy in a single film.

It's also a sad world when you discover, in 2001, that this film runs 85 minutes in the USA, 83m in Portugal, and 80m in France (it's so described in "Cinéguide" des Presses de la Cité (ed.1992). France shows the most short of the current versions of this wonderful movie about streetwalkers and pimps, about workers and profiteers; therefore, the most 'cut' or censored version - be it political or commercial censorship. France! the country that represented for me Liberty, Fraternity and Equality, when I was a 6 year-old kid opening his eyes to the beauty of chandeliers in a shop window, the beauty of girls in high-heels and knee-length skirts, and the wrongness of the half part of the world who lived without working, squeezing money of those who worked. Even if the work was - like Nana's - lending her body to other people...

The crux of 60's Godard. His quirks are broken down into twelve segments manageable for the inexperienced viewer. If only one Godard film is to be watched, it might be this one. Though none of us would want to live in that world.

The film opens with an entrancing first ten minutes. The credit sequence and ensuing scene introduce the crucial theme of acting versus reality. Nana, played by Anna Karina, seems to never truly escape the personality of the actress who portrays her. Instead of avoiding this, Godard embraces the ambiguity and creates an entire film that obsesses over Karina's image. From the credits to "Fin"? the audience, like Nana, is fixated on her outward appearance. She constantly references her desire to be in movies and have her picture taken. Ultimately, she becomes a prostitute, seemingly the only place to turn for a girl who allows herself to be mercilessly controlled by men. This tragedy is underscored by her clear desire to be "special"? and, most potently, in her tearful viewing of Jeanne d'arc, a woman who faces death at the hands of men. Nana's personality and development can be seen as a vehicle for Godard's philosophy on film. The "men photographing women" had become perverted to the point of solicitation and death. The obvious parallels between the ending of VIVRE and BREATHLESS suggest a pessimistic condemnation of contemporary law and society.

Godard's deliberate camera motion, defiant attitude towards cinematic grammar, and clear pacing created a film that, though fictional, is one of the most honest human portraits available. Always experimenting with sound, the director never succumbs to standard over-the- shoulder dialogue sequences. Instead, he accesses another level of meaning by making deliberate choices over who is seen when saying specific words. Sometimes there are cuts and sometimes there are pans, but never is there a decision that seems arbitrary or purely for the sake of ease. While Godard's films do own a simple and unashamed quality that might lend itself to less expensive filmmaking, it is clear that his choices serve specific purposes and are always a slave to the greater objectives in the film. One of the most striking scenes in VIVRE SA VIE is where Nana is writing a letter. It is a simple act on which most directors would only spend a few seconds. Instead, Godard places a close-up on the letter and allows the audience to watch the entire process and become engulfed in Nana's (or Karina's) beautiful handwriting and the earnest quality of the letter.

VIVRE SA VIE successfully provides a tidy summary of Godard's quirky brilliance. For those willing to explore his genius, this film is the ideal starting place (if not working chronologically). But be careful. Once his capabilities are discovered, they will never leave you.

89.8

"Birds are creatures with an outside, and an inside. When you remove the outside, you see the inside. When you remove the inside, you see the soul." "Vivre Sa Vie" is an incredibly desultory film about a confused girl (Nana) with an existential crisis; namely, the task of reconciling her decision to become a prostitute with her belief in a free will. As the repercussions of the "painting" she has rendered gradually spiral out of control, Nana becomes progressively more alienated from and confused about her life. This culminates in a chilling scene in a diner, where she lays her soul bare before a well-meaning philosopher, who responds to her desperate queries about the gulf between words and emotions with more words. Erudite words that she cannot possibly understand.

Godard probes his favorite existential motifs with wonderful sensitivity here. When Miss Karina espouses her belief that a "plate is a plate" and a "life is a life", the overwhelming sadness in her eyes betrays the torment of a woman who feels torn from her self by circumstance. Nana turns to prostitution after breaking with her lover, failing to secure a spot in the movies, and being evicted from her flat. Watching her struggle to exact some control over a world that is clearly much bigger than her designs is emotionally draining.

As usual with Godard, the cinematography is lush and his cinema eye is constantly roving. Before Nana's first trick, the camera cuts from Karina's panicked eyes, to a bar of soap. It is a relatively simple, yet effective, symbol that defines a relatively simple, yet affecting film.