Review of Jules and Jim (1962) by Brian C — 26 Jul 2009

To young film makers in America in the mid-60s, the French New Wave was the single most appealing and attractive movement in film history, directly leading to the explosion of angsty, mood-driven pieces of art that were to mature several years down the line. But to movie goers in the 21st century, this New Wave now seems a very dated little thing indeed. While there's no questioning the chic style and posturing techniques these films display, trying to find anything worth savouring in them has proven very hard. 'Jules et Jim' is a perfect example of how a film's status and significance has come to matter more than its own self.

Lensed by volcanic cameraman Raoul Coutard the film is a feast of nifty tricks, capturing the essences of scenes vividly in pristine monochrome. But, like most of these movies, this cinematographic sleight of hand is the most admirable thing about them.

The New Wave was determined to create characters that was as far from the old style as possible; unfortunately it results in a roster of the most unpleasant people to appear on celluloid. 'Jules' and 'Jim' and 'Catherine' and basically everyone in the whole film as pessimistic, selfish and mean-spirited creatures and, rather than detailing a complex network of loving relationships, comes across more like an artified Catherine Breillat. Jules is a pathetic loser, too weak willed to have respect for himself and too helpless to let go this foul being he continues to live with. Jim is the flippant opposite, glad to aid Catherine's infidelity whilst letting the one woman who truly loves him waste her life away over caring for him. But it's Catherine herself who's the real monster. Childish, hysterical, almost certainly mentally-unstable she's a disgusting piece of work, spending most of the picture glaring out of the screen with a face like a slapped arse. Not only is she a risible excuse for 'feminism' (because feminism is all about exploitation, inhumanity and manipulation), but there's a faint misogynistic quality, like she was purposely given the most rancid personality possible. Watching these three idiotically stumble over each other is more depressing than enlightening, since none of them ever appear to be happy and only wallow in their own self pity. There's an attempt to reach for some salvation by obsessing over children, but there doesn't seem to be a point having any since children clearly don't bring them any closer and offer no form of personal company either.

The film then has the audacity to set this in the 1910s- 20s, heavy-handedly alluding to the fact that this was the era women became empowered for the first time. They might have done, but the people in that age did not act like simpering, limp-wristed morons who only cared about sleeping their way to an early grave. Catherine, an ordinary girl, certainly wouldn't have had the extraordinary power she wields over her pathetic men, who would be laughed at in any corner of society for having their lives toyed with so effortlessly.

What saves this dross from being a complete failure is the opening 20 minutes. Here, the central trio frolic about, laugh, enjoy one another's company in a pleasingly mature way, and one can't help but feel immensely disappointed that the film can slide so far into dimestore melodrama. It's much much nicer and easier to believe in if the cast actually kept up their energy from this first reel, but either they choose not to or simply can't. None of them display anything approaching a human emotion, electing to walk aroudn solemnly without creasing those pretty young faces of theirs. And Jeanne Moreau is nowhere near as beautiful or charismatic as Jean Seberg, simple as.

Yes, those wunderkinds might have been the saviours of cinema at the time, but these immature exercises in style suffer greatly from a blankness of warmth, charm, humanity or anything resembling happiness. That might be the point, but it doesn't make for engaging stories, and nor does it win over films that are made with the intent of wanting their audiences to feel with them.