To call Jean-Luc Godard's Une Femme Mariée a ponderous film is nothing short of the truth; the film, even at ninety-one minutes, is a lengthy, patient-testing endeavor. Yet, the film captures remarkable essences of mood and emotion that are nothing shy of poetic and quietly moving. Godard, once again, resorts back to classic, black-and-white film in order to accurately and wisely capture the sensual moods of the 1960's rather than become wrapped up in petty detail.
This is yet another Godard film that will likely be appreciated by many after the film is over. When enduring the film, it becomes quite the challenge to stay in-tuned with it, since the prolific title-cards, frequent narrations, and sometimes uneventful instances seem to do everything they can in alienating and turning-off a viewer. However, after several hours (or, admittedly, days), contemplating a Godard film or keeping it in your head makes you warm up to its sensibilities and its techniques, as if you just cracked (or found yourself closer to cracking) the film's code.
The film's plot is a sentence long, following the relationship between Charlotte (Macha Méril) and her lover Robert (Bernard Noël), despite having a relationship with Pierre (Philippe Leroy), as well with having a child with him in the process. Despite this setback, Charlotte still spends much of her time with Robert, doing typical things you'd find in a Godard movie; whispering softly, discussing philosophy, getting romantic, and simply enjoying the presence of each other.
Once you get past the fact that the film is stripping everything you'd expect it to include down to very minimalistic ingredients is when your response to Une Femme Mariée may be a bit stronger or perhaps simply unfazed. The film is a film of essences, atmosphere, tone, and emotion, captured in black and white to only affirm its details are shifted out in favor of a less-distracting experience. Throughout the film, we see Robert and Charlotte show affection for one another and also admire their own bodies. Of Godard's French New Wave films that I have seen up until this point, Une Femme Mariée is the one that contains the most controversial imagery (by American standards) in terms of nudity.
Yet, Godard's film is certainly not graphic by any means; by American censorship standards even in the present day, it's incredibly tame, mostly using lengthy close-ups to depict pasty-white skin. By doing this, Godard creates a very intimate and sexual mood, a common characteristic of the 1960's in France, again, catering to the idea that he favors capturing an essence or a mood rather than focusing on plot-progression and intense character development. This sexual atmosphere is surprisingly not arousing but more tender and appreciative of human anatomy, something we're sometimes believed we are not supposed to be proud of.
In the regard of being a meditative, moody little drama with some raw feelings of emotion and intimacy, Une Femme Mariée does succeed and meshes nicely with Godard's other New Wave films. However, the picture does become watery and difficult to sit through, especially during the third act when things seem to take a more ambiguous road. Expect Godard, receive Godard, what you do and think after may vary.
Starring: Bernard Noël and Macha Méril. Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard.
This is yet another Godard film that will likely be appreciated by many after the film is over. When enduring the film, it becomes quite the challenge to stay in-tuned with it, since the prolific title-cards, frequent narrations, and sometimes uneventful instances seem to do everything they can in alienating and turning-off a viewer. However, after several hours (or, admittedly, days), contemplating a Godard film or keeping it in your head makes you warm up to its sensibilities and its techniques, as if you just cracked (or found yourself closer to cracking) the film's code.
The film's plot is a sentence long, following the relationship between Charlotte (Macha Méril) and her lover Robert (Bernard Noël), despite having a relationship with Pierre (Philippe Leroy), as well with having a child with him in the process. Despite this setback, Charlotte still spends much of her time with Robert, doing typical things you'd find in a Godard movie; whispering softly, discussing philosophy, getting romantic, and simply enjoying the presence of each other.
Once you get past the fact that the film is stripping everything you'd expect it to include down to very minimalistic ingredients is when your response to Une Femme Mariée may be a bit stronger or perhaps simply unfazed. The film is a film of essences, atmosphere, tone, and emotion, captured in black and white to only affirm its details are shifted out in favor of a less-distracting experience. Throughout the film, we see Robert and Charlotte show affection for one another and also admire their own bodies. Of Godard's French New Wave films that I have seen up until this point, Une Femme Mariée is the one that contains the most controversial imagery (by American standards) in terms of nudity.
Yet, Godard's film is certainly not graphic by any means; by American censorship standards even in the present day, it's incredibly tame, mostly using lengthy close-ups to depict pasty-white skin. By doing this, Godard creates a very intimate and sexual mood, a common characteristic of the 1960's in France, again, catering to the idea that he favors capturing an essence or a mood rather than focusing on plot-progression and intense character development. This sexual atmosphere is surprisingly not arousing but more tender and appreciative of human anatomy, something we're sometimes believed we are not supposed to be proud of.
In the regard of being a meditative, moody little drama with some raw feelings of emotion and intimacy, Une Femme Mariée does succeed and meshes nicely with Godard's other New Wave films. However, the picture does become watery and difficult to sit through, especially during the third act when things seem to take a more ambiguous road. Expect Godard, receive Godard, what you do and think after may vary.
Starring: Bernard Noël and Macha Méril. Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard.