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Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life is less a narrative film with a story, than it is a visual collage of memories and ideas. It follows a single family, the O’Briens, in the small neighborhood of Waco, Texas during the 1950s. Mr. O’Brien (Brad Pitt), who represents nature, is a demanding father, and is often excessively hard on his children. It is the children, specifically Jack O’Brien (Hunter McCracken), whom Malick focuses on the most. Jack begins discovering the joys and pains of childhood, while turning to his mother (Jessica Chastain) to seek solace from the oppressive personality of his father. Mrs. O’Brien represents grace, and is gentler and and more approachable than her husband is. The underlying attributes of nature and grace held by the O’Brien parents conflict quite a bit with each other, sending Jack on a difficult and highly emotional journey. He asks complex questions about the meanings of life, love, and loss, even through his adulthood. Adult Jack (Sean Penn) lives in an unspecified point of time, though it is a cold future that exudes modernity through its slick, metallic surroundings.

In addition to troubled thoughts, told primarily through voice-overs (there is very little spoken dialogue), the film contains cosmic questions. We are shown a long, breathtaking scene that chronicles the Universe’s creation and expansion, from big bang through evolution. Here, Malick draws a bold parallel between the cycle of life, human emotion, and everything in between. In some ways, this is one of the most ambitious movies ever made, because it is essentially about everything.

For a film that could easily have been an epic disaster, The Tree of Life shows an undeniable level of craft. Terrence Malick creates scenes that are often so lyrically poetic, they become thrilling. Emmanuel Lubezki’s cinematography is so astoundingly beautiful that it actually adds greatly to the film’s substance. Beauty and nature are portrayed through the imagery, and get at the heart of the movie’s (many) themes. The creation of the Universe sequence is basically a screensaver, but what a gorgeous and mind-blowing screensaver it is!

With such a high level of emotional density, it is marvelous that the acting is so pitch-perfect. Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain do not play black-and-white opposites; rather, they are each as complex as their sons are. While Mr. O’Brien comes across as abusive, he is really more sympathetic than that. He is a flawed character who struggles to balance his love for his children with conceptions of fierce will and control. In a sense, Mr. O’Brien almost becomes a tragic character at one point, as we see him express guilt and regret that has built up over many years. What feels so human about the drama here, is that it is not exaggerated. Malick does not pass judgement on his characters; he lets the action play out in a raw, yet beautiful fashion.

Of course, the film does has its flaws. The final act, which serves as a sort of reconciliation between characters and ideas, is nice to look at, but goes on too long. Additionally, the ambitious nature of Malick’s project doesn’t allow the concepts to always fully meld, making it sprawling and messy. However, everything is executed so diligently that the problems become quibbles, and don’t stop the movie from being a unique and rewarding artistic production.

A major accomplishment on both a visual and emotional scale, The Tree of Life is Terrence Malick’s best film since his 1973 debut, Badlands. We need more filmmakers who are unafraid to be this bold and original; directors who embrace cinema as art. Even when the movie creaks under its own weight, it remains beautiful and asks its viewers to use their minds and hearts. Malick doesn’t just shoot for the stars here: he shoots for life, the universe, and everything.

Kung Fu Panda 2 continues the exploits of Po the panda (voiced flawlessly by Jack Black), picking up where the first film left off. Now a seasoned fighter, Po must help his team of kung fu masters defeat the evil Lord Shen (Gary Oldman), a peacock who is attempting to harness the explosive power of fireworks to conquer China. Along his journey, the brave panda meditatively tries finding his “inner peace,” and also learns to cope with revelations about his family’s history.

One of the things this film gets completely right is pacing. At only 90 minutes short, the story whisks by at a brisk and energetic pace, aided by its riveting action and clever set pieces. We are thrown into the fray right from the start, and as a result the movie takes very little time setting up its narrative. Director Jennifer Yuh takes full advantage of the film’s medium, giving us stylistically creative fight and flight sequences. One particularly memorable scene involving a dragon costume gobbling characters up (in a clever homage to Pac-Man) could not have been rendered in live action without looking incredibly cheesy. In glorious computer animation, however, it is insanely fun and fits in with the fluidity of the picture’s style.

The animation itself is stunning, switching between different visual styles. More important than the detailed CGI that encompasses most of the movie, is the use of hand-drawn animation during Po’s flashback scenes, which adds a heightened sense of tragedy to the material. This is not unlike the use of anime in Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill; both films’ flashbacks change their mediums of storytelling to temporarily heighten emotion.

As an action movie and an emotional story, Kung Fu Panda 2 is good, clean fun. However, the reason it falls short is the same reason its predecessor was so good. In the first film, we get to witness Po’s inauguration into the wonders of kung fu. There is a certain sense of discovery and revelation, not particularly seen in the sequel. Because most of the characters and situations were developed in Kung Fu Panda, it feels as if the screenwriters are now saying “let’s have fun with Po on a new adventure!” That’s all well and fine, as the characters are really likeable; however, the sequel is too simple and commonplace as a result. Sure, the emotional beats here are pretty great, but they never reach the same rhythmic propulsion as those in the original film.

I think the reason this movie falls a bit short for me is the fact that its predecessor brought something new to the table, while this one didn’t. Nevertheless, the film is pretty exciting while you are watching it. You may not remember many of the jokes or plot points later on, but that doesn’t stop it from being above-average entertainment. If you need a reason to see Kung Fu Panda 2, watch it for the animation and action alone, but don’t expect it to be as good as the first one.

In the mystical land of Asgard, the mighty Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is the clear successor to the throne, currently held by his father, Odin (Anthony Hopkins). When Thor foolishly provokes battle with former enemies of Asgard, the powerful Frost Giants of Jotunheim, Odin takes away his magic powers, and banishes his son to Earth. There, the former god is discovered by scientist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) who tries to make sense of a man simply falling from the sky. Meanwhile, back on Asgard, a devious plot is being hatched by Thor’s Brother, Loki (Tom Hiddleston).

Kenneth Branagh’s Thor is perhaps the most frustrating kind of film; one that just lays there while it’s playing, and gets forgotten shortly after leaving the theater. Its action scenes are neither terrible nor riveting; rather, they are clunky and repetitive. In fact, for a film that cost $150 million to make, the special effects are overused and look far too obvious. The movie uses an unimaginative and dull color palette, which is a shame, as magic and mysticism play such huge roles in the story. Not once did I marvel at the supposed “splendor” of the land of Asgard, as the visuals end up being dull rather than aesthetically pleasing.

Now add to the mix a halfway decent, but halfway undercooked script. Besides for Thor and Loki, none of the film’s characters are developed enough. Thor has a group of Asgardian companions called the “Warriors Three” who play an important role in the story. Obviously the screenwriters didn’t think the group was important, though, as none of its members ever become more than caricatures. Jane Foster is a similarly flat character; when she eventually becomes Thor’s love interest, chemistry between the two is laughably absent. As interesting as some of the Norse mythology is, the dialogue is poor during the film’s serious moments, and is often “eye-rolling” worthy.

The script does work, however, during its moments of humor. Once the film’s location is switched to planet Earth, the comedy kicks in. In all fairness to the movie, the laughs mostly hit, providing refreshing relief from the mediocre action and drama. Thor’s reactions to the “mortal” planet of Earth are pretty funny, as is his exaggeratedly “manly” stature. The acting is pretty decent; Hemsworth has good timing and is generally fun to watch. Although scenes featuring Loki tend to be more serious and emotional, Hiddleston also does a great job in his role, and probably gives the film’s best performance.

Even with some redeeming qualities, Thor is a poor-man’s Marvel movie. Frankly, it wouldn’t surprise me if the film was only made to help set up the upcoming superhero team movie The Avengers (featuring Thor and some other Marvel comic book characters), rather than as a stand-alone labor of love. With all the talent and money put into this movie, it’s rather shameful that it turned out as unmemorable as it did. It plays out more like a studio-churned production than it does a distinctive piece of art, and loses most of its fun in the process.

Tom Cruise stars in Oliver Stone’s Born on the Fourth of July, based on the autobiography of Ron Kovic, a paralyzed Vietnam War veteran who became an anti-war activist. The film starts off by showing Kovic’s childhood and teenage years, where we see a patriotic young man, dedicated to serving in the Marines. After losing the use of his body from the chest down as a result of a war injury, however, he becomes bitter and hurt, and begins slowly noticing the flawed system that got him where he is. It is through this emasculation and suffering that Kovic achieves his character arc, one fraught with moments of depression, hopelessness, and eventually, hope.

The film runs nearly two and a half hours, but hardly misses a beat, owing to Oliver Stone’s magnificent directing, and wonderful sense of pace. During the Vietnam War scenes, he is unafraid to be graphic and shocking, and creates emotionally tense sequences that are as heart-wrenching as they are gut-wrenching. Stone wields his camera like a weapon, stabbing deep into the horror and sadness that encapsulates the story.

What holds the film together even more than the directing, however, is one of Tom Cruise’s best performances. The parallels drawn between Kovic’s early life and later sufferings are brought out flawlessly with bravura acting. Once a star athlete who would do anything to help his country, Kovic is now barely able to move his body. At first, he tries to make the best of his situation, keeping his upper body fit through exercise as he recovers in a military hospital. However, once Kovic eventually realizes how far he has fallen, bitter hate boils up inside of him like hot lava. This formerly fit young man is struck with feelings of injustice; is the reward for serving his country a lifetime of trauma? He temporarily moves to Mexico, seeking solace from his fury with the U.S.A. and starts his path to becoming an anti-war pacifist. This transformation is earned, because Cruise is so convincing as a man who has been through the wringer.

For all the positives contained in Born on the Fourth of July, this does have a script co-penned by Oliver Stone, leading to the film’s only major shortcoming: its heavy-handed bias. Moments in the movie literally feel like direct preachings to the audience, as the material is handled in the least subtle way possible. Whether or not you are on Kovic’s side, there is no denying that the screenplay often makes its points by outright making the points! Rather than employing imagery and story to let viewers come to their own conclusions about the issues presented in the movie, the screenwriters feel the need to hit us over the head. Thankfully, this flaw is not prevalent throughout the entire film, and only really becomes a problem in the final act. Nevertheless, Stone decidedly uses a tactic that makes his picture a very good one, rather than a great one.

Despite the script often lacking subtlety, this is one of Oliver Stone’s best films. His direction is strong as can be, and Cruise’s acting is convincingly human. Patriotic, but noting America’s flaws at the same time, Born on the Fourth of July is a portrait of loss and courageous hope.

After a series of three excellent films (Salvador, Platoon, Wall Street), Oliver Stone decided to make Talk Radio, adapted from a play written by the film’s star, Eric Bogosian. It follows Barry Champlain (Bogosian), a Jewish talk show host in Dallas, whose on-air comments and musings are controversial to say the least. The polemical nature of his show incites two things: vicious death threats (many of them antisemitic and/or racist), and an offer to broadcast his program nationwide. When his ex-wife (Ellen Greene) flies to Dallas to be present for the show’s first national broadcast, the film segues to flashbacks of the couple’s married life, and Barry’s rise to talk-show fame. Eventually, we get a finale filled with “on-air” diatribes, where Barry refuses to compromise his scathing show, even as tension and hatred begin to fill the air.

During the film’s first thirty minutes or so, I was really taken by how good it was. It starts off with a frenetic broadcast, where the  viewer gets a good sense about who Barry’s character is. The scenes where he talks to talk show call-ins are fabulous, and provide much humor and energy. Bogosian fits in perfectly to the role, and had me thinking that this would be a great movie led by a great performance. Unfortunately, once the film began to spread its wings I realized how truly wrong I was. Not only is this a wasted opportunity, it’s also tonally incompetent and over-directed.

For one thing, the flashback sequences transition poorly into the film, and are unnecessary. We are shown a younger Barry, when he was happily married and breaking into the radio business. Instead of pumping development into the main character, Stone gives us overlong scenes of exposition. The viewer does not need to be shown what factored into many key points in his life (namely his divorce and success in radio). The first thirty minutes alone does a really good job setting up Barry; with more character moments, much of what happens in the flashback(s) could have been inferred, rather than shown.

I was convinced that once the excessive plot points yielded to actual scenes of broadcasting, the film would pick up again. How very naive I was to think such a thing. The final scenes are really where Stone ruins the story with inconsistent directing. Instead of reaching its potential by remaining riveting and witty, the movie attempts to become claustrophobic and suspenseful. It’s as if Stone thinks he is directing a thriller, causing the mood to feel totally out of place and alien to its subject matter. Near the end, the script takes a final twist, and tries getting into Barry’s psyche. This leads to an embarrassingly “important” monologue, followed by an equally embarrassing over-the-top ending.

If Talk Radio had stayed true to the roots of its fascinating opening, it could have been great; instead, it’s a mess. Bogosian had the capacity to give an Oscar-worthy performance, a talent which was unfortunately squandered. To be fair, he does give his all and is excellent, though falls short of his potential. Additionally, the supporting cast (with exception of Ellen Greene) is pretty good, especially Michael Wincott (the only redeeming thing in the film’s final act). There are a few shining lights in this murky swamp of a movie, though not enough to fill a silver screen.

The film begins with an an introduction by Marty DiBergi, who talks about how he was inspired to make a documentary about the rock band, Spinal Tap. He wanted to capture the “sights, sounds, and smells” of hard-rock musicians, and is therefore presenting the North American tour of the band’s newest album, “Smell the Glove.” Of course this is all a joke, as Spinal Tap is a completely fictionalized group, and DiBergi is played by Rob Reiner, the director of the “mockumentary” you are about to see. Such is the nature of This Is Spinal Tap, a brilliant comedy that is just as poignant as it is funny.

Ah, how can one begin to dissect this movie without talking about its characters? David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean) and Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) are Spinal Tap’s front-men. David is the singer, while Nigel plays lead guitar. Early on, we find out that the pair grew up together as childhood friends, and their interactions certainly back up that piece of information. All of the friendliness, tension, frustration, and jealousy between the two rings true to life. The supporting band members are fantastic as well; bassist Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) and manger Ian Faith (Tony Hendra) are voices of reason among many of the low IQ ramblings of David and Nigel. Additionally, the band itself is a character. We are told that dozens of former members have died or quit. Concerts keep getting canceled, and popularity among the mainstream is beyond waning; it is almost dead. The tribulations and fallings-out that Spinal Tap faces could (and does) happen to real music groups. It is the moments when characters realize how far Spinal Tap has fallen, that are bitterly depressing, yet hilarious.

One of the film’s greatest charms is its ability to be both poignant and funny at the same time. The movie has very little “obvious” humor. Everything is subtle, and strikes the funny zone in a peculiar way. Be it a sharp jab at backstage concessions, onstage mishap involving a model of Stonehenge, or a discussion about the critical reception of Spinal Tap’s albums, nearly every comedic moment is a triumph. Not only is this one of the funniest films of all time, it is also one of the most quotable. Lines such as: “These go to eleven” or “None more black.” will have you laughing and talking along with the characters every time you watch this (endlessly rewatchable) picture. Another comedic feat This Is Spinal Tap manages to pull off, is its ability to make the viewer laugh at its characters, but still maintain their likability and integrity. Many of the band members are laughably stupid, but there is a certain illogical logic to their actions.

The music is fabulous, and covers a great deal of the rock and roll spectrum, from 60′s “flower-power” pop to 80′s hard rock. Songs range from being full of innuendo-laden lyrics (“Big Bottom,” “Sex Farm”) to containing really catchy guitar riffs (“Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight,” “Gimme Some Money”). A perfect companion to this wonderful film is its great soundtrack.

This Is Spinal Tap is not only Rob Reiner’s directorial debut, but perhaps his greatest film to date. This is a brilliantly constructed and memorable comedy with terrific acting. It deserves to be ranked as one of the funniest movies of all time, and only one phrase can sum the whole thing up: “Rock ‘n’ roll!”

Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) is an unstable Vietnam War veteran who suffers from insomnia. He decides to drive a New York City taxicab and work long hours, so he can fight off the loneliness and boredom of everyday life. “Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets,” says Bickle, as he narrates an evening of tedious driving. He sees the city as a sewer full of lowlifes and dirt, and hopes that change will come to clean it all away. One day Travis meets Betsy (Cybill Shepherd), a campaign volunteer whom he takes a romantic interest in. Things don’t go smoothly, though, and he comes to the conclusion that Betsy is no different than the rest of the loathsome people on the streets. After running into Iris (Jodie Foster), an underage prostitute controlled by an abusive pimp (Harvey Keitel), Travis decides that it’s finally time to take some action. He purchases some firearms, gets into shape, and awaits a public rally where Senator Charles Palantine (the man whose campaign Betsy has been working on) is going to speak…

Taxi Driver is a brilliant character study of a lonely man who will no longer accept society’s flaws. What makes it brilliant (among other things) is Robert De Niro’s outstanding portrayal of Travis Bickle, one of the most memorable cinematic characters of all time. At first the man quietly expresses distaste for his surroundings; however, as more and more things push him over the edge, we begin to notice what kind of change he is going through. Perhaps the cleverest element of Bickle’s transformation is that he begins the film as its protagonist, and ends it as an antihero.

De Niro is not the only actor here who gives a great performance; the cast is all-around excellent. In one of her earliest onscreen roles, Jodie Foster (as an actual child actress, not an adult with a convincing costume and makeup) plays a child prostitute with the utmost conviction, while Keitel fits perfectly into the sleazebag pimp role. Almost every performance is either above average or great, down to an unforgettable Martin Scorsese cameo.

Speaking of Martin Scorsese, the direction is pitch-perfect. If you check up the word gritty in the dictionary, the definition will read “Taxi Driver.” So precise is the film’s portrayal of the slimiest parts of New York City, that one can almost taste and smell the grime and smut. From the hookers and their procurers roaming around, to the seedy porn theaters, this is a dark, dangerous, and smelly place. The film is very much a “mood” movie, and uses its shooting locations to generate its atmosphere. Of course, no mention of Taxi Driver‘s atmosphere would be complete without bringing up Bernard Herrmann’s haunting and iconic score. It is the final soundtrack Herrmann comprised: what a way to go out!

Grittiness aside, Scorsese knows how to use his camera for full audience effect. Late in the film, Travis gets a Mohawk haircut to disguise himself. The camera lingers on the lower half of his body for a while, before suddenly jerking upwards so the viewer can see Bickle’s face. This is just one example of the director effectively using his medium to surprise the audience.

Accolades must, of course, be given to screenwriter Paul Schrader, who penned the film’s script. Not only does the screenplay take a fairly low-key story and make it endlessly fascinating, the dialogue is also endlessly quotable. Watching the movie for a second time, I was reminded that just about every line of narration that comes out of De Niro’s mouth could be a bitter epitaph on the gravestone of some troubled person.

Martin Scorsese has crafted a real classic with Taxi Driver, a film that is thought provoking and moody, and takes us to the deepest, darkest places in the human mind.

Nicholas Van Orton (Michael Douglas) is a cold hearted but successful investment banker. On Nicholas’s 48th birthday, his brother Conrad (Sean Penn) gives him an unusual present: a gift voucher for a game, courtesy of a company called “Consumer Recreation Services.” Although no one will tell him exactly what the game entails, he decides to visit the company’s office, and undertakes a series of psychological and physical tests. When Nicholas is informed that his application has been rejected, he is upset; however, strange things begin happening in his life, starting with the discovery of a clown doll sprawled in his driveway. The next day he meets a waitress (Deborah Kara Unger), and what follows is a non-stop progression of twists and turns, frame-ups, and betrayals.

Directed by David Fincher, The Game is an utterly preposterous film that is flawlessly executed, but falters in terms of set-up and plot structure.

Michael Douglas gives a very nice performance, displaying well the lead character’s unhappy, cold-as-stone personality. Nicholas is not entirely unsympathetic, however, as his demeanor is subtly attributed to having witnessed the suicide of his father, who was 48 at the time (the same age our protagonist has just turned). Besides being haunted by a tragic event, Nicholas has a shaky relationship with his capricious brother, played amiably by Sean Penn, in a strong supporting role.

Direction has always been a strong suit in David Fincher’s films, here being no exception. The deliberate use of color tones and visually creative camera shots creates a somber, dark tone which lasts throughout most of the movie. I constantly admire the director’s knack for using mood to enhance his pictures, which is used in The Game both to the film’s success and detriment. I say “detriment” because many plot elements betray the style Fincher seemed to be going for.

Contrived and “overly-twisty” plot turns are abundant, and have no place being in what could have been a very strong mystery story. For this reason, the movie’s first 30-40 minutes or so are its strongest, until the “unbelievability factor” sets in. The plot has run out of steam by the time we reach the ending, which, by the way, is so implausible and ridiculous that it undermines most of what came before it. The finale is fairly predictable, and simply contains one twist too many. Without spoiling anything, ending the narrative one scene earlier would have at least kept the film in line with the film’s dark nature; instead, we are left with something crowd-pleasing and silly.

However, look past the film’s godawful ending and sporadic camp, and you’re left with a surprisingly good, well acted thriller. Most of the movie is really fun to watch, though its tone is often too serious to support its wackiness. Michael Douglas brings depth to what could easily have been a one-note performance, although his character doesn’t go through as much of an arc as one might expect. Still, David Fincher “lite” is still David Fincher, so this game is definitely worth a play.

David Norris (Matt Damon) is about to lose a campaign run for U.S. Senator, and is making his concession speech in a bathroom. By chance, he meets Elise (Emily Blunt), a young woman who Norris instantly falls in love with. After some conversation and a kiss, she inspires him to make a news-worthy speech, which puts him on track as the front-runner for the next election. Later, David and Elise stumble upon each other for a second time, on a New York City bus. The only problem is, the meeting is a mistake: A mysterious group of men in hats was supposed to stop them from seeing each other again…

George Nolfi directs The Adjustment Bureau, a romantic thriller about a team of people (or so they seem to be) who monitor the entire world, making sure that things happen according to plan. Religious overtones aside, the film poses questions about free will, chance, fate, and love. Damon and Blunt’s characters have such wonderful chemistry, one can only hope that they stay together forever. However, although multiple run-ins seem to show that the couple is fated to be in love, the Adjustment Bureau will stop at nothing to tear them apart. In this sense, the film’s greatest forte is the chemistry of its leads, as we can literally feel the frustration and longing that shows itself on the characters’ faces.

Before the Bureau begins playing a role in the film, every scene is believable and well constructed. In part, this has to do with the very solid performances churned out by Damon and Blunt, as well as the tight direction and screenplay. Once the fateful group arrives, however, the movie devolves into “fun.”

The script has enough plot holes to sink a ship with, though Nolfi (who wrote the screenplay in addition to directing) does a pretty good job at plugging most of them up. However, in order to really enjoy The Adjustment Bureau, one needs to get past the following:

1)In the scheme of all the world’s problems, the organization would spend so much effort trying to break up a perfectly happy couple.
2)After all the love David and Elise have shown each other, it takes such a long time for the Bureau to warm up to their being together.
3)Inconsistencies with Bureau members’ “powers” (sometimes they can teleport freely; other times they are bound by restrictions).

The above are only a few glaring problems that took me out of the film; a handful more (albeit less distracting ones) exist. Much of the plot is hokey, due in part to how certain scenes play out, and partly because the movie contains too much faulty exposition.

All said and done, however, I had a pretty enjoyable time with this one. The film begins to fully embrace its contrived nature in the final act, leading to an odd but fun climax. Additionally, the one element that never falters is the believable romance between David and Elise, and the best sequences are the ones where they are together. It’s a flawed oddball film, but certainly original, and more than just sporadically amusing.

After stealing a car and shooting a police officer, Michel (Jean-Paul Belmondo) runs to his American girlfriend, Patricia (Jean Seberg), and shacks up with her in Paris. While cops work overtime to catch the murderer and bring him to justice, Michel tries getting a loan so that he and Patricia can flee to Italy. As detectives begin closing in, Michel’s main concern is attempting to seduce his girlfriend. He is emotionally attached to her, but Patricia’s independent nature is an obstacle which he relentlessly tries vanquishing, trying to get her to sleep with him.

Jean-Luc Godard’s debut film, Breathless, is considered one of the finest and most influential films of the French New Wave, and rightfully so. Out of any movie from 1960 that I have seen, it feels the most modern. Godard uses the medium of film to its full potential by implementing many cinematic techniques into his picture such as cross-cutting, voice over, and camera zooms. Take the opening scene, for instance, which shows Michel being chased by the cop that he ends up shooting. The lead character hilariously narrates most of the scene, turning a grim situation into a darkly comedic one. By taking the viewer into the antihero’s mind, the sequence ends up being existential, but uproariously funny at the same time. Oh, and this is all done via hand-held camera on a low budget.

Godard also wrote the screenplay, based on a scenario by none other than Francois Truffaut (another key player in the New Wave movement). Much of the dialogue is improvised, and flows very smoothly. A long scene between Michel and Patricia in the latter’s apartment simply consists of talking while the former tries seducing her. Instead of being repetitive and feeling dragged out, the spontaneity of the conversation makes the scene funny, and sheds light onto each character’s motivations and traits.

The two leads are wonderful here. Belmondo defines “cool” with his sunglasses and Humphrey Bogart persona. Seberg plays the female counterpart with a wavering sense of independence and a flirty nature. She is a delight to watch, whether frustrating Michel or playing along with him. The pair has wonderful on-screen chemistry, which serves as a nice addition to (or maybe it’s the cause of) the seemingly effortless conversational scenes.

With Breathless, Godard has shaped a fairly basic story into a highly entertaining, funny picture. It is a prime example of style helping out a film, as the rapid jump-cuts help create its frenetic pace. The acting, dialogue, and excellent direction harmonize, creating a finely tuned, expertly crafted movie. So much of its success relies upon the leads’ chemistry, making Belmondo and Seberg excellent casting choices. Just a year after Truffaut accomplished a similar feat, Godard made a debut film that blows many experienced directors’ movies out of the water. My only problem with it is that it’s running time is too short, as the film is so much fun to watch. It may be a cliche, but it is certainly true to say, Breathless will leave you breathless.