Cannes Review: Richard Linklater Delivers a Masterclass in Cinema with Nouvelle Vague

      Filmed in black-and-white with the same Cameflex model used by Jean-Luc Godard for Breathless—the film it captures and embodies—Nouvelle Vague is not just a copy of Godard; it’s a reinterpretation of Godard that creates something unique. This is a curious statement to make about a film that so closely resembles and resonates with its inspiration. Richard Linklater’s latest work, while not echoing his previous style, nonetheless feels distinctly Linklater.

      This tribute to both his mentor and his own laid-back style is a blend of the French New Wave master and his American counterpart—two directors whose filmmaking philosophies are deeply intertwined, with the latter nurturing the former’s career and continuing to do so four decades later. In this film, Linklater utilizes French New Wave techniques to evoke Breathless (consider: similar locations, jump-cut editing, and free-form cinematography) while giving us a unique glimpse into the experience of collaborating with Godard, illustrating what made the filmmaker ignite a global cinematic revolution.

      The narrative of Godard's first film begins with an eager and self-assured artist desperate to direct. At this moment in 1959, Godard (as he claims) stands as the only member of the Cahiers du Cinéma crew—where he and a plethora of iconic French New Wave figures (like Truffaut, Chabrol, Varda, Demy, Rivette, Rohmer, Resnais) used to contribute to the influential film journal and emerging director resource—who has yet to make a feature film. He has created some shorts and worked on others' projects, but recognizes that he needs a full-length feature to fully express his innovative vision.

      This approach is the central focus of nearly the entire film, perhaps even more than Godard himself, and rightly so: this casual, impulsive, guerrilla filmmaking style struck the film industry with immense force. Linklater demonstrates that Godard was a synthesis of various influences, yet we understand that Godard will overshadow them all to become a widely recognized name, with a style that will permeate indie filmmaking to the extent that many will unknowingly adopt his methods.

      Notable filmmakers like Wong Kar-wai, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, and Terrence Malick are among those who have carved their own distinctive styles influenced by Godard’s filmmaking philosophies, which many would embrace if they followed his path. Godard inspires filmmakers to discover their films (and directorial voice) during the filmmaking process, allowing their work to naturally unfold, which entails taking risks that financiers typically oppose. He aims to enter each day without knowing precisely what will be shot but with a clear sense of the story's direction, allowing for spontaneous creativity in capturing moments, dialogue, blocking scenes, and so forth. As the emerging auteur tells his skeptical crew, “Let’s continue our search for the instantaneous and unexpected as only we can.”

      In terms of theory, Godard served as Linklater’s Rossellini or Renoir. This may mean little to many, leading me to my next point: Linklater’s homage to the French New Wave is a delight for cinephiles. We witness seminal moments in film history, such as Godard at the premiere of The 400 Blows in Cannes, grappling with the urge to launch his own directing career. We see him persuade producer Georges de Beauregard to embrace the risks of his script-less approach. We hear Rossellini’s advice to Godard right before shooting: “Disregard traditional cinematic forms. Use notes instead of a script. Shoot swiftly. And always be ready to capture inspiration as it arises.” Then we progress day by day through the 23 shooting days until completion, transitioning to the editing room and concluding in the screening space where we began (“Everyone appreciates a bookend!”).

      On the first day of shooting, they manage to complete one take in minutes, and Godard (portrayed skillfully by Guillaume Marbeck) calls it a wrap. Moving on. “Do you want to see the frame?” the camera operator Raoul Coutard inquires. “No.” When the script supervisor attempts to adjust the set for continuity, Godard orders her to halt. “Reality is not continuity,” he asserts. While they neither agree nor grasp his point, they comply. After two hours and a few shots, he deems inspiration lost. Out of ideas, he ends the day, much to his producer’s annoyance. When pressed, Godard remains resolute, armed with a film-theory argument to counter any doubters, proving that he genuinely doesn’t take a day off.

      Instead of assigning memorized lines to the actors (which he believes would “kill the sincerity” of their performances), he outlines essential moments that should occur and urges them to remain flexible enough to thoughtfully engage with their scenes and discover what their characters would express. They are initially resistant, especially Jean Seberg (Zoey Deutch),