cast :
crew :
release date :
Most higher education film studies classes will at some point cover Cahiers du Cinema, the hugely influential film journal founded by Andre Bazin in 1951. Not only did it change the shape of film theory and criticism for a whole generation it also eventually changed cinema itself as several of its key writers including Jean Luc Godard, Francois Truffaut, and Jacques Rivette went on to make movies inspired by their own rhetoric. Truffaut of course famously gave birth to the auteur theory, nominating directors as the main artistic and creative force behind films in an era of studio domination. This is chiefly the reason why today certain films are promoted via the director’s name rather than the stars or studio associated with it. The films Godard and Truffaut produced during the movement of the early 60’s dubbed the French New Wave became as influential as their writing and ‘400 Blows’ (1959) and ‘A Bout de Soufflé’ (1959) still stand as iconic turning points in moving image history, marking a period of young director-driven films that were made cheaply but more importantly were aware of themselves as being constructs of cinema.
Godard eventually eschewed narrative altogether in favour of didactic essayist films influenced by Maoism while Truffaut slowly started to resemble the prestige directors he’d initially rallied against. And what became of Cahiers du Cinema? In the 70’s it was co-edited by a fiercely Marxist collective, its readership dwindled in the 80’s while the 90’s saw several unsuccessful re-launch attempts. It simply seemed that in today’s postmodern media-saturated times a film journal could sadly never have the same impact it commanded in the 50’s. In keeping with the journal’s deflated lack of influence on film culture today’s writers rarely make the move into feature direction like they had before. The only noticeable example is Olivier Assayas, director of ‘Irma Vep’ (1996). His career trajectory was perhaps inevitable as Assayas’ father was French screenwriter and occasional director Jacques Remy and through assisting his father in his later career Assayas inherited his passion for movies until he began writing for Cahiers in the 80’s whilst making slow steps into directing. ‘Irma Vep’ represents the nadir of this ascent and is perhaps his most well-known film. However, for me it also represents something of the gulf between the original Cahiers schooled directors and their modern counterparts and so it is from this angle that I would like to approach my review. Of course, as already acknowledged, the impact of a film journal in the 50’s, when cinema was still one of the primary entertainments and cultural forces, being compared to modern times may seem unfair- films, and film criticism, will never command as much heated attention as they did back then. Despite this I’d like to examine ‘Irma Vep’ as an example of how much things have changed in this particular, once revolutionary, area of French cinema culture.
In true New Wave auteur fashion, the film was both written and directed solely by Olivier Assayas and shot on characteristic handheld 16mm film cameras. The story concerns an aging film director called Rene Vidal shooting a remake of the silent 1915 classic ‘Les Vampires’. For reasons only clear to him he hires Chinese cinema star Maggie Cheung to play the latex-clad cat burglar lead. Vidal is played by French New Wave legend Jean-Pierre Leaud and Maggie Cheung plays herself. Expectations are set for a light-hearted yet satirical film about the pretensions of French filmmaking, however sadly it eventually falls victim to those very pretensions it attempts to ape. It is a shame as on a technical level the film is impressive; languid and highly naturalistic conversations are captured in very long handheld takes, the likes of which shocked and excited audiences when Godard first utilised them and today still denote a skilled capturing of reality. Instead, the problem lies in the dialogue and the situations the camera is expertly capturing.
Where many previous films have found ripe material in examining the filmmaking process, ‘Irma Vep’ fails to ignite any interest, empathy, and very little comedy, which is surprising given some of the potential situations that are set up. From the off Maggie has reservations about the tight latex cat-suit her director demands that she wears for her burglar role. It is also initially clear that the director Vidal is losing it, unable to express what he wants to any of his exasperated crew. A pretentious figure in a position of power on the brink of emotional meltdown reflected against a huge foreign film star feeling lost in translation should provide both comedy and poignancy. However, the director here is pitiless and pathetic and following the first forty minutes completely absent from the screen. A dark episode in which it is revealed that he has hit his wife is handled surprisingly lightly then forgotten about altogether. Characters come and go like this throughout the whole film leaving very little impression. After it becomes clear that the director himself isn’t going to provide the necessary interest other narrative threads threaten to entertain but are always frustratingly snatched away. For example, Maggie develops a sweet friendship with the films only other likable character, the female wardrobe assistant Zoe (Nathalie Richard). However, their friendship turns into one-sided lesbian infatuation on Zoe’s part. Later Maggie starts to take her role research too seriously and begins to commit actual crime, sneaking around her Paris hotel successfully stealing another occupant’s jewellery from her room before stashing the evidence away on the roof, a technically impressive sequence cleverly cut to the diegetic strains of Sonic Youth’s Tunic (Song for Karen). However, both of these potentially interesting moments involving the film’s female star are teasingly suggested then forgotten about. All the while the camera dotes unnecessarily on the female lead. This would not normally be a bad thing as Cheung has proven herself to be a skilled actress in higher art-house fare such as ‘In the Mood for Love’ (Wai Wong, 2000) and Miramax imports such as ‘Hero’ (Zhang, 2002). Here however she is given very little to do other than continually look exasperated at the unorganized chaos around her. Many people are rude, even openly hostile towards her, but such episodes often seem inconceivable and just plain nasty when Assayas was instead probably aiming for squirm-inducing realist comedy, the type of which has been perfected since by mainstream TV comedy (see The Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm, etc). What seems even more improbable is the way Maggie takes this all in her stride, only ever seeming slightly annoyed in her constant yet needless close-up’s. It is no surprise to hear that Assayas eventually married Cheung for four years following this love-letter of a movie.
The situations to which Cheung is subject to begin to mount in a way that becomes annoying rather than tense for the viewer and after a while I felt I was willing the film to end. Potential moments of tension involving other characters arrive but quickly dissipate into nothingness. Towards the end a new, even more pretentious director is brought in to finish off Vidal’s film. The interesting idea of a so-called auteur finishing another auteur’s work is not mined as well as it could have been, instead he simply shouts and rather unpleasantly complains about a Chinese girl being chosen as the lead before disappearing entirely from the narrative, just as the original director had. Leaud, playing Vidal, is tragically wasted here. He was the original Cahiers pioneer Truffaut’s chief onscreen persona in the influential Antione Doinel cycle that began with ‘400 Blows’ (but actually appeared in more films by Godard). Therefore, this character should be a perfect late-period gift for him, an arty French film director with many pretentious ideas. However, his character appears to lack depth and he simply is not given the screen time to develop any. What most disappointed me though was the fact that in a French film about film directing made by an ex-writer for Cahiers du Cinema, no discernible creative or aesthetic voice can be detected. Stylistically the film opts for the once ground-breaking style of hand-held long-take realism that is now ten a penny in European cinema, and its subject matter is hardly unique. The original facet of the Auteur theory was that a director’s distinctive trademarks could be detected in their work, yet ‘Irma Vep’ feels anonymous and subsequently hollow. Perhaps this is an intentionally ironic gesture meant to reflect the nature of French art cinema itself- make a boring film to ape other boring films. If so, the exercise seems pointless and somewhat snobbish.
If the film belongs to anyone it is Maggie Cheung, even though the light material gives her little to work with. Still, she is highly watch-able in a film full of unpleasant characters and uninspired dialogue. The final sequence is a highly abstract montage of Maggie gracefully scaling Parisian rooftops in full cat burglar mode. Its series of random noises fast paced edits and Brakhage-like scrapes and smears on the film stock are visually very pleasing, but it is too little too late. It isn’t even clear whether this represents a cut of the uncompleted film remake within the film or simply Assayas flexing his creative muscles merely because he can. Still, it is an encouraging if belated example of what the director might achieve if he confined himself to short abstract films rather than the disappointing larger narrative attempted in ‘Irma Vep’. An earlier scene in which Maggie is interviewed by a belligerent film critic inadvertently sums up the film’s worst faults. The ever-put-upon actress attempts to half-heartedly defend her director as the interviewer lays into “boring” films made by French directors that no audience wants. As a critic for the highbrow Cahiers this was probably meant to reflect lowbrow film critics who defend blockbusters enjoyed by the masses (during the interview he mentions a penchant for Jean-Claude Van Damme). I enjoy art-house cinema, particularly European, as much as any film buff and are not hugely fond of Hollywood action films but presented within the uninspired narrative of ‘Irma Vep’ it is hard not to side with the boorish critic’s views. Assayas seems to have shot himself in the foot with this scene as his film itself to me is a clear example of the dull, indulgent style of French filmmaking the interviewer rails against.
Films about the frustrating elements of filmmaking such as this usually redeem themselves through the medium itself and re-enforce the idea that despite the huge amount of stresses creativity can bring, the end product is always worth it and most filmmakers, having lived through such strained situations first-hand manage to procure comedy and beauty from them. Fellini’s sublime ‘Eight and A Half’ (1963) is still the benchmark of this genre, while DiCillo’s caustic yet hilarious ‘Living in Oblivion’ (1995) and Jonze/Kauffman’s self-reflexive overdrive of ‘Adaptation’ (2002) are very welcome recent additions. However, ‘Irma Vep’ has the opposite effect of these great films, instead presenting the act of filmmaking as dull, painful, and ultimately pointless, a disappointing message coming as it does from someone as passionate about films as to have written for the once great Cahiers du Cinema journal.
Country: France
Budget:
Length: 99mins
Filmography:
‘Eight and A Half’, 1963, Federico Fellini, Cineriz
‘Adaptation’, 2002, Spike Jonze, Beverly Detroit
‘Living in Oblivion’, 1995, Tom DiCillo, JDI Productions
‘Hero’, 2002, Yimou Zhang, Beijing New Picture Film Co.
‘In the Mood For Love’, 2000, Kar Wai Wong, Block 2 Pictures
‘A Bout de Soufflé’, 1959, Jean-Luc Godard, Les Productions Georges de Beauregard
‘400 Blows’, 1959, François Truffaut, Les Films du Carrosse
Pub/2008
More like this:
'Irreversible', 2002, directed by Gaspar Noe
'Chung Hing sam lam (Chungking Express)', 1994, directed by Wong Kar-Wai
'Dreamland', 2006, directed by Jason Matzner