Breathless (1960)
a film by Jean-Luc Godard
Despite the romance of the Nouvelle Vague, Breathless didn't catch me in a cinémathéque while surrounded by bohemian-Gauloises-smoking-movie-loving intellectuals. I dreamed of watching Breathless with the characters of Bertolucci's The Dreamers: living la boheme while the world was accelerating its turning but all that mattered was going on in the screen. But of course it wasn't the case. It wasn't a crowd of cinephiles in front of Parisian screen but a lonely evening in front of my TV when the Torontonian summer timidly showed it face.
It made no difference, Belmondo is still as chauvinistic as charming, Jean Seberg keeps being a fairy in my cinematographic dreams and Breathless feels like a glass of fresh water for the senses. The shoot sounded like a thunder, the ending credits rolled and at breath's end I come back from the beauty of Paris in black and white to the corner my couch.
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