Jean-Luc Godard and Female Perspectives

By Sage Purdon

Anne Wiazemsky and Jean-Pierre Léaud in ‘La Chinoise’ (1967)

It’s that time of year again. That time of year when I begin to drool mindlessly over “French bangs”, cut-crease eyeliner and Jean-Pierre Léaud (although if I’m being real, this all applies to me all the time). I told a friend over coffee the other day that I was “in my Jean-Luc Godard era” once again, the response to which was, “Oh God”. It’s the time when I both experience gay thoughts towards and wish to embody the femme fatales and proto-MPDGs of the Nouvelle Vague. You’d never believe that my parents used to try and force me to watch them: I used to claim that I hated black-and-white films because they were “too old-fashioned”, yet my thoughts are now filled with them in  every waking moment. Clearly, I have too much leisure time between my deadlines, and once I reach my honours years, I will have no time to watch Agnés Varda films and online shop instead of completing my IR coursework. But, still, a person can dream. 

Jean-Luc Godard was undoubtedly one of the most pioneering figures in French Nouvelle Vague (New Wave) cinema. This was an incredible film movement that emerged in the late 1950s and early 1960s that marked a significant break with traditional cinematic conventions. Led by a group of innovative filmmakers, Nouvelle Vague had a profound impact on the world of cinema (as well as my makeup routine) and is what I would consider one of the most influential in film history. Through his innovative and often unconventional approach to filmmaking, Godard frequently dealt with the idea of “cinema as a series of irresolvable problems” (Dabek, 2011) and his films often explore complex themes, challenge traditional narrative structures, and address socio-political issues. However, although these works are often praised for their innovative storytelling and the complexity of their characters, they have also been criticised for perpetuating certain gender norms and stereotypes, and portraying women in a contradictory manner.

When it comes to the presentation of female characters in Godard's films, there are recurring patterns and nuances worth examining, and in doing so, I think it’s most fitting that I begin with La Chinoise (1967). Although it’s a terribly cliché term, I’d most aptly describe this as his ‘underrated masterpiece’ and it’s definitely up there with some of my favourites. The action revolves around a group of “five self-appointed citizen soldiers of a revolution yet to come” (Schlumpf, 2011) in Paris and their ideological struggles. Interestingly, it is Godard’s second wife Anne Wiazemsky who plays Veronique, one of the central characters, who is committed to her ideals and seeking “to change the world through Maoism (and terrorism)” (Schlumpf, 2011). In this film, Godard not only presents “the theme of militant youth” (Schlumpf, 2011) and his own leftist politics but also a complex portrait of women. Veronique is intelligent and passionate in her political convictions, embodying a sense of agency; however, Godard also critiques her idealism and possible disconnection from reality. Having said this, this idealistic and naïve perspective of revolution doesn’t specifically relate to Veronique and the female characters, but to all the characters in the film – in fact, I would personally argue that Jean-Pierre Léaud’s character is the most irritating of them all. In the words of many of the Letterboxd reviews that I naturally perused in detail after the film, probably about 80% of the run time is taken up by him shouting at a more than slightly excessive volume. Therefore, this film explores the interplay between personal relationships and political convictions, offering a nuanced view of all characters in the larger context of radical activism and not especially differentiating between them based on their gender.

Catherine Duport, Chantal Goya and Jean-Pierre Léaud in ‘Masculin Féminin’ (1966)

By contrast, Masculin-Féminin (1966) is a film that delves into the romantic and political life of its characters. This film “begins from a male perspective, where our protagonist tells us that he has just finished military service”, and yet equally, presents himself as a “sensitive” soul despite going through the “stereotypical male experience” (Bagtazo, 2015). Therefore, it’s clear from the beginning that the male gaze and masculine perspectives will play an important role throughout the film. Women in this film, particularly the central female character of Madeline, played by Chantal Goya, are presented as symbols of youthful rebellion and existential questioning. Madeline’s character is presented as the textbook love interest to protagonist Paul (also played by Jean-Pierre Léaud, funnily enough), a young man “engaged with opinion polls as well as interview-style questions” which he poses to the female characters throughout the film such as Madeline and her roommate Catherine (Razavi). Through these interrogatory interviews, relating to subjects such as sex, birth control, and politics, we feel as though Paul himself is attempting to make sense of the world that he lives in including the female psyche. For example, in his first interview, taking place in the bathroom at his workplace with Madeline, he alternates between asking explicit questions about her sexual habits and incessantly persuading her to sleep with him. Many such relationships, including a strange ménage a quatre, are played out through such “unsettling sexual encounters” which, although they shy away from direct physicality, include many barely concealed undertones (Dabek, 2011). Through these unusual interview scenes, Godard captures the changing dynamics of relationships and the evolving roles of men and women in society during the 1960s; his approach is often observational, reflecting the uncertainties and complexities of the era. It is to be noted that the female characters in this film are not mere props, but active participants in the film's exploration of social change; they hold strong beliefs about their sexual habits, the government, and the way they lead their lives even if they are not inclined to share them with Paul. Although one could argue that the romantic relationships depicted in this film could be seen as embodying conventional gender dynamics, with male characters often assuming more assertive roles, it is Paul who is seen as more vulnerable in the way he is presented as a “doomed romantic” (Dabek, 2011) who is often unsuccessful in trying to assert himself. Therefore, Godard presents the female characters as intelligent, multifaceted individuals with the capacity for action, rather than simply regressing to gender roles.

Anna Karina and Eddie Constantine in ‘Alphaville’ (1965)

I also feel I couldn’t discuss Godard and his women without talking about the one film of his that isn’t really for me. This anomaly is Alphaville (1965), a science fiction film that combines elements of dystopia with film noir – I didn’t hate it by any means, but something about it didn’t click with me. The film is set in a futuristic town known as ‘Alphaville’ which is controlled by a voiceless, yet omnipresent male power known as Alpha-60, more than reminiscent of Orwellian horror. I won’t lie, this excessively grating villain voice began to wear me down throughout the film, and although I got the giggles at first from how bizarre it was, maybe my wine-drinking an hour or so prior was responsible for cooking up a headache and mild sense of tinnitus, so maybe I’ll have to give this film another go... Yet, despite this consistent masculine presence throughout the plot, “women play a pivotal role within Alphaville’s city limits” (Murry, 2014), and still possess the free will to be able to look out for themselves under a totalitarian regime in which every word they speak is controlled and they are expected to serve solely as prostitutes who are clones of each other. For example, during the famous swimming-pool execution scene, it is revealed to Lenny, the male protagonist, that for every 50 men executed there is only one woman who is killed, meaning that women have developed “a better grasp of concealing their emotions and playing the role needed to be played in order to survive the city” (Murry, 2014). This is a departure from the typical norm of womanly tenderness expected at the time, and is certainly very telling of some of Godard’s own views towards his female characters.

It is also important to note that Anna Karina, Godard's regular collaborator and wife at the time, plays the central character, Natascha von Braun. In the film, his portrayal of women tends to take on a more surreal and stylised form than La Chinoise and Masculin-Féminin, and Natacha is a key figure in the narrative, embodying both vulnerability and strength. The futuristic setting of the film allows him to experiment with the representation of women in a gendered context, blending elements of traditional femme fatale roles with a touch of existential contemplation. Godard's relationships with the actresses in his films, both Anna Karina and Anne Wiazemsky included, have been analysed, but his relationship with Karina has faced particular criticism as she is arguably the most famous of his muses. Some such critics argue that the onscreen dynamic between him and his female protagonists may have influenced the representation of women in his films and that the personal and professional boundaries between filmmaker and muse were blurred. It should also be noted that the political and social context of the 1960s, during which many of Godard's films were shot, influenced the genre's representation. Although Godard was associated with the political environment of the time and depicted strong, politically engaged female characters, his films have been criticised for not fully transcending the prevailing gender norms of society.

In all three films I’ve discussed, Godard's treatment of female characters reflects his broader cinematic and philosophical concerns. His approach is often multifaceted, showing women as individuals with agency, intelligence, and complexity. Although these films have been criticised for sometimes reinforcing gender stereotypes, the tension between portraying women as independent and criticising social norms is a recurring theme in his work, contributing to current debates about the representation of women in film. In essence, while there remains an argument that there are elements in Godard’s work that inadvertently reinforce gender stereotypes or fail to completely escape the social norms of their time, what many of his critics fail to see in analysing his work further is that “the perspective he offers is meant to discuss the objectification of women and the commodification of culture, especially in film” (Bagtazo, 2015). Therefore, his presentation of women as commodities is not an accurate reflection of how he perceived them but serves to criticise the objectification of women in popular culture, particularly in film. The ongoing debate reflects the complexity of analysing representations of gender in art, recognising both advances and limitations in the context of the era in which these films were created.

Sources:

Bagtazo, C. (2015) Film analysis: Birth control in “masculin féminin” by jean-Luc Godard, Bagtazo. Available at: https://www.bagtazocollection.com/blog/2015/8/2/film-study-masculin-fminin-by-jean-luc-godard (Accessed: February 28, 2024).

Dabek, R., 2011. Jean-Luc Godard: The Cinema in Doubt. M/C Journal, 14(1).

Godard and feminism part VIII: Alphaville (1965) (2014) The Cinephiliac. Available at: https://thecinephiliac.com/2014/01/29/godard-and-feminism-part-viii-alphaville-1965/ (Accessed: February 28, 2024).

Razavi, M., Power, Sexuality, and Individual Identity in Jean-Luc Godard’s​ Masculin Féminin​ and Michel Foucault’s​ History of Sexuality Vol.

Schlumpf, E., 2011. Intermediality, translation, comparative literature, and world literature. CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture, 13(3).

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