Someone we hear talking – but whom we do not see – speaks of a project which describes the four key moments of love: meeting, physical passion, arguments and separation, making up. This is told through three couples.
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Since i « grow up » in decades where cinema is supposing to be '' dead'', i never expected to feel profoundly overwhelming after experiencing a film on a big screen. It happen for the first time last night, and damn (that colors!) i knew it will probably never happen again... Honestly, after three viewing, i cant summarized my feeling for this impossible masterpiece. Maybe i need to read analysis about the film.
Despite some trite anti-Americanism (and anti-Spielbergianism, which is the same thing), this is one of JLG's most evocative, personal, and beautiful films. Godard works through his own personal history (it is his first film in decades to be filmed in Paris, in b&w), larger political history (particularly taking account of the Holocaust), and, as the name implies, a general history of love (the four stages).
I'm ashamed to admit th'it took me more than 3 years of cinewatching to realize that there's literally no person out there who authentically likes late-era Godard. He is merely an artifice, the vaporwave of cinema; through so-called innovation he revitalizes nothing but campy ideas. This concept of fancily undressed, chopped-and-screwed French movie-making shouldn't pan out well to anyone, no more, not since the 70s.
As often with Godard, some to make you bored, a fair bit to make you sad, more than some to make you think, a little to make you smile. Whatever, and this is why he is magnificent and unique, the guy doesn't give a fuck what we think.