Pierott le Fou is a 1965 movie directed by Jean-Luc Godard.
Pierott le Fou tells the story of Ferdinand, a bored man eager to escape his Bourgeois life and Marianne, a gun smuggler on the run from terrorists. Together, they escape Paris and embark on a genre-bending adventure.
Pierret le Fou exists in an interesting space of the Godard universe. In some respects, it’s the natural follow-up to Band of Outsiders, yet also could be seen as the true culmination of Breathless. Godard blends gangster films, island adventures and spy thrillers into a subversive text that ultimately reveals itself as an ironic political statement.
Godard’s movies feature a quirky, contextual innocence – his characters seem to be trying on roles in an experimental landscape. Here, we see a familiar blueprint: a couple is on the run – they’re playing existentialist gangsters – staging car wrecks and breaking the fourth wall. Ferdinand is writing a book, Marianne throws it away.
However, a shift is occurring in the Godard universe. The subversive reassembly of culture that marked his earlier movies is still vivid, but a heaviness is looming. The second half of Pierrot le Fou issues a statement regarding an increasingly militant world. Even Godard is not immune to such sweeping societal change.
Yet, Pierrot le Fou is still a masterful dissection of culture and a really fun movie.
And it looks great.
Stylistically, this may be Godard’s most appealing movie – or at least, it’s intriguing to see him experiment with color.
The movie opens with Ferdinand Griffon, a bored man stuck at a party. He is detached from a series of conversations that resemble sales pitches for different products. There’s an emptiness here, as the guests inhabit the bodies of consumers – they can’t discuss ideas but can cite the benefits of car engines and deodorants. Godard paints these scenes using a variety of cold, oppressive Technicolors.
Ferdinand drives Marianne home and they verbally recount their prior relationship through a casual inventory of romantic gestures: “There I am, putting my hand on your knee. I’m kissing you all over.” They decide to escape their current lives and run off together.
The movie – and tone – shifts to Marianne’s apartment. She prepares breakfast singing a sweet love song. Casually, several assault rifles and a dead body lie in the next room.
Ferdinand states his love for Marianne – her response: “we shall see” drives home the stakes of what’s about to occur. Marianne has murdered someone, smuggles guns and is on the run. Frank, Ferdinand’s brother-in-law and Marianne’s employer, arrives and gets a bottle smashed over his head. The adventure begins as the couple flee Paris.
There is a whimsical sense of futility as Ferdinand and Marianne escape to the countryside. They steal using a trick from Laurel and Hardy and then analyze their reckless lives: “I see a man who is about to drive over a cliff at 60 miles per hour.” “I see a woman in love with a man who is about to drive over a cliff at 60 miles per hour.” Eventually, another stolen car is driven into the sea.
Pierrot le Fou then abandons its gangster origins and becomes Robinson Crusoe. Ferdinand and Marianne escape to a seaside retreat and live an idyllic, remote life. Ferdinand works on his novel but eventually Marianne grows bored. She sums up their relationship: “You speak to me in words and I look at you with feelings.” She’s missing the former spark of adventure: “We’ve played Jules Verne long enough. Let’s go back to our detective novel.”
The remainder of Pierrot le Fou finds Ferdinand and Marianne again on the run. Marianne gets further mixed up in murder – again stabbing another victim with scissors. This time, she flees and Ferdinand is water-boarded by the gangsters on her trail. There’s a brilliant scene in a movie theater where Ferdinand is watching a Godard film – he’s “waiting for the moment to turn back into reality.”
It’s a self-referential nod to Godard’s evolution as a filmmaker. The story picks up again with Marianne now reunited with her boyfriend Tony – who she previously claimed was her brother. There’s a new scheme: “it will be like the ones in famous novels.” Godard is pulling from Band of Outsiders, only this time it is Marianne who meets a tragic ending.
The final scenes show Godard’s embrace of leftist politics. Ferdinand is now linked to rebel groups. He paints his face blue and straps dynamite to his body.
Typical of a Godard movie, the leads are tremendous. Anna Karina’s Marianne is brilliant. She captures the nuances of Godard’s transformation. She channels the innocence of her own performance as Band of Outsiders’ Odile, before asserting the independence of a lovestruck schemer. It’s apparent that Marianne is using Ferdinand, but Karina’s charm never allows the audience to turn on her. Despite her character’s nefarious intentions, the movie drags when she’s not on screen.
Similarly, it’s easy to empathize with Jean-Paul Belmondo’s Ferdinand. There’s a sort of intellectual weariness exposed in him throughout the movie, which he broadly expresses. Belmondo gives an intriguing performance – he’s a dynamic, philosophical leading man in a rapidly shifting social environment. His bourgeois Ferdinand is aging out of the young gangster role and miscast as a leftist rebel, an act Belmondo skillfully captures.
The most memorable aspects of Pierrot le Fou are the careful stagings of artistic influence. The movie opens with Ferdinand reading from the History of Art, a text he carries throughout the story. Godard continually frames his characters under an array of classic works – featuring Renoir (also Marianne’s last name), Picasso and Mathieu.
There is also an abundance of pop art, pulp fiction novels and propaganda materials to be found. Most significant are the references to Andy Warhol – including Marianne exploiting her choice of murder weapon. More intriguing is Godard’s messaging regarding the Vietnam War. While at their seaside retreat, Ferdinand and Marianne act out violent descriptions of the war for eager tourists.
For a more in-depth exploration of the artwork used, check out these links:
National Gallery of Art – Pop Cinema: Jean Luc-Godard’s Pierret le Fou
The CineTourist: Paintings in Pierrot le Fou
The BEST – Breaking the Fourth Wall
There’s a classic scene where Ferdinand and Marianne are driving towards a new chaos, discussing the various meanings of their love. Ferdinand leans back and brings the audience into the discussion. “Who are you talking to? The audience.” 55 years later, it’s mostly a throwaway comedy gag but at the time, such a move was groundbreaking.
The BEST Part 2 – “Tell Me I’m Crazy.”
After Marianne leaves him behind for Tony, Ferdinand wanders the dock and encounters a man who describes his obsession with a particular song. It’s a fascinating dialogue and either completely misplaced or filled with a deeper meaning that flew over my head.
The BEST Part 3 – Industrial Sized Cell Phones
The real gangsters are equipped with some bricks that make 1980’s models look like smartphones.
The BEST Part 4 – The Songs
The musical numbers appear out of nowhere but are wildly endearing. Marianne’s first song is sweetly performed and savagely cast against the backdrop of murder. The second is a timely dance number in the woods that probably offered the last pure bit of innocence in the movie.
The WORST – Yellow Face Theater
It’s nearly impossible to apply 2020 sensibilities to 60 year old movies – but I also get the impression that Godard’s representation of Vietnamese women probably didn’t translate well back then either.
FOX FORCE FIVE RATING – 4.5/5
Pierrot le Fou is a wildly inventive and inherently watchable movie. The experience is likely enhanced after soaking in his early work. Godard is the master of bending genres – including his own – and it’s bizarre how fresh his work still appears some six decades later. Equally intriguing is the maturation and shift in Godard’s ideals that occurs here.
