Pierrot le fou (image 1)

Made in 1965, this film, with its ravishing colors and beautiful 'Scope camerawork by Raoul Coutard, still looks as iconoclastic and fresh as it did when it opened.

Jonathan Rosenbaum, Chicago Reader

Screened as part of Autumn Events 2013

Pierrot le fou 1965

Directed by Jean-Luc Godard

“The epitome of New Wave pop art romanticism, Pierrot is as evocative of its epoch as a Warhol “Marilyn” or Beatles VI.” — J. Hoberman, Village Voice

France / Italy In French with English subtitles
110 minutes CinemaScope

Director

Screenplay

Jean-Luc Godard

Photography

Raoul Coutard

Editor

Françoise Collin

Music

Antoine Duhamel, Boris Bassiak

With

Jean-Paul Belmondo, Anna Karina, Graziella Galvani

“The epitome of New Wave pop art romanticism, Pierrot is as evocative of its epoch as a Warhol “Marilyn” or Beatles VI. The film was partially inspired by the script for Bonnie and Clyde, which had been sent to Godard in ’65, and is almost linear – at least for Jean-Luc Godard. Made in the middle of Godard’s greatest period, it’s a grand summation of everything he’d achieved since Breathless – collage structure, autonomous sound, interpolated set pieces – as well as his version of a location thriller. Shot in wide screen and saturated primary colors, mainly in the south of France, Pierrot looks sensational – as does Godard’s then-wife Anna Karina, who, even as she captivates and abandons co-star Jean-Paul Belmondo, is herself the movie’s documentary subject.

Karina’s insouciant grace and spontaneous outbursts parallel that of the film: culturally, Pierrot le Fou is all over the map, juxtaposing Sam Fuller (in his celebrated party scene) with Federico García Lorca, the war in Vietnam and Auguste Renoir. (“Let’s go back to our gangster movie,” Karina tells Belmondo after an idyll on the beach.) Few films have ever been more hostile to Americans and more devoted to their cars. Pierrot is hardly devoid of Godardian misogyny, but whatever personal bitterness infuses the filmmaker’s representation of Karina, the movie itself radiates joy of cinema.” — J. Hoberman, Village Voice