Richard Linklater’s New Wave [+lire aussi :
bande-annonce
fiche film] could be one of the first films that forces your mind to simultaneously watch another. That parallel movie is Jean Luc-Godard’s Breathless [+lire aussi :
bande-annonce
fiche film], released in 1960 amidst the ferment of the French New Wave, an encapsulation of the French director and critic’s notion that to make a film, “all you need is a girl and a gun”, and that cinema could be literature by another means (the political discourse would come later). Linklater’s elegant and concise portrait of Breathless’s production is an “answer” film to the prior one, with the majority of its scenes having an analogue to a passage in Godard’s. The feature premiered yesterday evening in one of Godard’s old stamping grounds – the Cannes Film Festival’s official competition.

With the movie shot in lustrous black and white by Bruno Dumont’s recent favoured DoP David Chambille, every artistic decision in New Wave comes from a desire for authenticity, yet it’s never stifling. The historical record is carefully adhered to, but unlike many period recreations in films, the characters never feel like they’re living through “history” and that each act they take is freighted with portent. The film’s combination of modesty and confidence – a trademark of Linklater’s – demythologises a vaunted time, as these were just a group of young, but highly talented, people putting their heads together to make something fresh, cinematically forward-thinking, entertaining and personal. Godard (an expert impersonation from newcomer Guillaume Marbeck) occasionally exasperates the on-set crew, but he’s a hero to us, his spontaneity, creativity and imperviousness to received wisdom and “the rules” making other directors look like they’re following a script, and repeating pre-written lines.

The other “Young Turks” (Truffaut, Chabrol et al) of the Nouvelle Vague have cameos, but Godard is the central protagonist and maverick here. Although he was highly accomplished as a critic (and a surprisingly distracted student of anthropology and engineering, as we learn), with all his Cahiers du Cinéma colleagues already well under way in their careers, actually making a feature film was the final step on his personal road to Damascus so that he might become who he truly was. Marbeck nails his indelible speaking voice – known from the voice-overs and narration in his later work – sounding like he’s constantly rolling a cigar round his mouth, despite not having one (and he always wears shades indoors, without appearing like a dolt). He’s identified with Michel Poiccard, the central anti-hero of Breathless iconically played by Jean-Paul Belmondo (himself incarnated here by Aubry Dullin), as a thief and “tough guy” romantic, literally stealing cash from the Cahiers office drawer, and borrowing the best koans from William Faulkner, Duke Ellington, Sam Fuller and more that he’d happily regale you with for hours.

Akin to the original film, Jean Seberg (Zoey Deutch, a Hollywood actress performing in French here) is a sceptical counterpoint to Godard’s masculine bravado, complicating the dismissals it faced then, and now, for sexism. Seberg’s character, Patricia, is a sometime lover of Poiccard, a bit of a dalliance on her bohemian Parisian adventure – funded from her privileged American means – whom she can steal some wisdom and street-smarts from, then reclaim her overall power by dumping him (and telling the cops of his whereabouts). More intelligent underplaying from Linklater comes by showing Seberg and Godard’s working relationship as testy, but founded on professionalism and a growing mutual respect.

A benevolent dose of fan service for cinephiles – generations of which were enraptured by Godard – New Wave won’t trigger the same revolution as its predecessor; instead, it teaches us again that young, nonconformist minds own the future of any art form.

New Wave is a French production, staged by ARP Sélection. Its international sales are managed by Goodfellas.