Is everything filmable? Richard Linklater’s “Nouvelle Vague” argues in the affirmative, opening with the questions that animated a generation of French filmmakers. Set in 1959 Paris, the film follows the true story of Jean-Luc Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) as he directs “Breathless,” his first feature and a project that helped spark the revolutionary film movement of the French New Wave (Nouvelle Vague in French).
The story traces Godard’s desperation to become a director through his chaotically unique yet passive creative approach. “Nouvelle Vague” aims to pay homage to Godard and the birth of a new film movement, yet the film lacks innovation and becomes trapped in its own desire to imitate, inherently contradicting the New Wave’s main intentions.
French films are beloved classics for a reason: they are mysterious, passionate and, well, French. However, “Nouvelle Vague” tries too hard to embody these traits, as is evident in Godard’s portrayal, which lacks a clear character arc. When first introduced, Godard is a film critic who constantly dons a tailored suit and black sunglasses. He feels frustratingly impenetrable and Marbeck’s delivery of what should be raw and vulnerable monologues, such as when he yells at his crew to leave the set for the sake of capturing “the authentic and reality,” feels comically monotone. The film insists that Godard is a visionary, but Marbeck’s performance leaves the audience feeling detached. Marbeck’s rhythm, though initially entertaining in its frankness, becomes repetitive and predictable.
Similarly, the cadence of the story’s trajectory feels consistently off. Scenes that should build emotional momentum fall flat, lingering too long on trivial conversations and speeding past key moments. The imbalance is evident in the dissonant portrayal of Jean Seberg (Zoey Deutch), a famous American actress who joins Godard’s cast. Seberg’s abrupt shift from contemplating quitting while frustrated at Godard’s lack of direction to suddenly and inexplicably being eager to aid the production is disorienting. Rather than capturing the New Wave’s oscillating chaos, the film insists on profundity without ever showing or earning it.
The film further compounds this inconsistency problem by introducing an excessive number of characters, including producers, friends, actors and lovers, with no clear arc or purpose. In one scene, director Roberto Rossellini (Laurent Mothe) advises Godard to lose the subplots of his film to make it easier, which ironically is where “Nouvelle Vague” stumbles.
Without the follow-through of these side characters’ subplots, Godard’s character lacks intimacy and humanity, appearing a bit too cold and nonchalant. I appreciate the film’s attempt to simplify the sheer number of characters by having each arrival punctuated by a stylized close-up and name card. However, this approach just sets the audience up for disappointment as we get snippets and tastes of subplots that lead nowhere and conversations that feel less like character development and more like filler.
Another major fault is the script’s overuse of quotes from other artists and lines that try too hard to be one-liners. Though Godard famously alluded to and directly cited quotes from artists ranging from T.S. Eliot to Leonardo da Vinci, the script’s overreliance on quotations makes the film feel uncreative and repetitive. It begs the question of whether Linklater even understood the Nouvelle Vague movement’s intentions and Godard’s goal of defying tradition, making new and being revolutionary.
Additionally, nearly every scene contains an attempt for the film’s big line. These lines include: “To be alone is to ask questions. To make films means to answer them,” “Reality is not continuity” and “All you need for a film is a girl and a gun.” Though these are solid lines and reflect Godard’s approach to film, collectively, they drown, becoming dull statements rather than profound revelations.
The film’s ending attempts to rescue the film through irony, with Godard and his collaborators sitting in a small theater watching the completed “Breathless.” They comment on how “disgusting” it is, declaring it the “worst film of the year.” It’s a clever way to attempt to reframe the viewer’s perspective for salvation purposes; however, a knowingly mediocre film is still a mediocre film.
Despite its narrative shortcomings, “Nouvelle Vague” is undeniably aesthetically beautiful. Shot on film and entirely in black and white, the cinematography captures a truly romantic Paris. It features scenes of characters smoking in cafes, sunlight flickering on the Seine and an overall balance between the symmetrical and asymmetrical. The jazz score also injects a liveliness and comfort into a film that otherwise feels tonally flat. Moments when the camera lingers on a street musician or drifts through a crowded bar come closest to capturing the New Wave’s authentic spontaneity.
“Nouvelle Vague” falters not because of its lack of ambition, but because it misunderstands what made the New Wave revolutionary. The film mistakes imitation for homage and quotes as a stand-in for ideas — in striving to capture Godard’s characteristic referentiality, it only attains mimicry. The filmmakers perfectly achieve the surface-level aesthetic, but miss the core: a genuine desire to say something urgent. For all its stylistic devotion, “Nouvelle Vague” remains curiously hollow, making it a film about revolution that never dares to revolt.
