Un filme socialista

Jean-Luc Godard is a reference in cinema and changed the art fifty years ago with a unique challenging style that defied current esthetics and etiquette.

His latest work can be described more as an eclectic experiment than any enduring piece of cinema, but it serves to show his mastery of the art and his ability to dissect it in its most basic components before trying to create a different, distinct experience for the viewer. He plays with themes, locations, styles and intermingles with little restriction photos, videos, ambient sounds, silence, music, narrations, monologues, dialogues to delves into a dream-like undefined cinematic discussion.

The film does not quite work as a whole, precisely from this lack of focus, but some of the imagery (some sharp and some out of focus, some old and some new, some seemingly meaningless and some full of allegories, etc.), dialogues (existential, simple, social, revolutionary) and intertitles do reach a cord and will be remembered subconsciously or consciously. It's lack of clear content or continuity should not take away from it's task of deconstruction and desire to destabilise our current comforts. In that aspect, Godard grabs the rug under conventional cinema and pulls very hard to make it topple over dumbfounded and confused.

There are three segments, each shorter than the previous, but besides being glad to finally leave this seemingly derelict boat and to briefly know a fictional philosophising family, there is not enough distinction between the segments to warrant further feedback at this point. Only that as Godard's life perhaps, and exemplified in the crafty ancient time-telling device in segment #2, time is getting shorter...

Maybe we'll get it right some day, may be one of many messages of this remue-méninges.