Review of Contempt (1963) by Stephanie P — 21 Apr 2013

Jean-Luc Godard's 1963 film LE MÉPRIS (Contempt) is the remarkably international story of a French marriage falling apart during an Italian film shoot directed by a German filmmaker and funded by an American producer. Fritz Lang, playing himself, has been making a innovative treatment of Homer's Odyssey, but the boorish Jeremy Prokosch (Jack Palance) wants a blockbuster, not an art film. Prokosch hires the screenwriter Paul Javal (Michel Piccoli) for a rewrite, hoping to temper Lang's abstraction. Javal has come to Italy with his wife Camille (Brigitte Bardot), and the collapse of their relationship is the central drama of the film. It is in fact Camille's barely-surpressed hatred for her husband that ostensibly gives the film its title.

In making the film with the help of American financing, Godard struck a blow against the Hollywood system by depicting the American producer as a despicable lech, and Fritz Lang as a genius who has long suffered insults. The film's backers wanted Bardot in nude scenes, but Godard fulfills this obligation in a way that is like thumbing his nose at them. The comments by my fellow review Turfseer, left on May 22, 2011, are enlightening in this regard. However, as bitter and somewhat juvenile as Godard's critique of Hollywood may be, I feel that Le MÉPRIS is saved, indeed raised to sublime heights, by several elements.

One is the use of colour in this film. Outdoor shots are bleached into colourlessness by the Mediterranean sun, but indoor shots repeatedly feature stunning shades of red and blue. It is almost as if the film itself is alive. I had never seen anything quite like it. Then there's Georges Delerue's film score, which consists mainly of a lush motif on strings that, when Godard choses to overlay the score, repeats endlessly. In spite of its brevity, this motif is more than enough to maintain interest and tug viewers' heartstrings, and one can even see it as a forebear of Minimalism.

Godard had employed Brecht's principle of alienation -- remind the audience that they are watching a theatrical performance and not real life -- before LE MÉPRIS, but he goes whole hog with the technique to great effect. For example, near the end of the film we are shown the aftermath of a car crash, where the passengers are impossibly slumped facing in opposite directions and everything is very stylized, I find one of the most memorable shots in cinema.