Histoire(s) du Cinéma x8

We recently covered Histoire(s) du Cinéma as a whole. But, below are some thoughts on each of the individual 8 parts. To see the previous post and this one on a single page, click here.


Quick Thoughts: All the (Hi)stories (1988), A Single (Hi)story (1989), Only Cinema (1997), Deadly Beauty (1997), The Coin of the Absolute (1998), A New Wave (1998), The Control of the Universe (1998), The Signs Among Us (1998)

As impenetrable and illusive as a transcript of free association projected through moving images and sound, the first part of Godard's Histoire(s) du Cinéma begins his cinematic Joyce impression and self-analysis. 

Though his montage is too fast and comprised of images too disparate to gather any of your senses, let alone consider the thoughts of minutes ago, it is possible to follow this through to the end by helplessly transitioning from state to state as the film does. And, having managed this, it seems that Godard explores the cinema's relationship with historical events whilst contemplating the forms and conflicts of art cinema, documentary and the cinema of Hollywood. 

There is no conclusion, but there is a picture, one that evokes nostalgia and melancholy in parallel to one another. Maybe this is 'all the stories' of cinema presented in one breath?

Histoire(s) du Cinéma continues with Godard's attempt to reduce all history something that is alone and singular. This implies that maybe there is a trend that repeats itself throughout time and, by extension of this, that there is a looming sentiment of eminence that conglomerates all of human action and history into one abstract entity or formula. However, there is no specificity and there is no apparent link between this concept and cinema beyond Godard's meandering laments on its failures. So, again, Godard compares art and entertainment as an expression of history and, in turn, humanity. So, if this says anything, maybe it suggests that cinema is just as full of potential and imperfection as humanity and so is bound to struggle as a dualistic self.

The third part of Histoire(s) du Cinéma opens with its most enriching and rewarding segment so far: extracts from an interview Godard did with Serge Daney. Though he speaks in constant obtuse aphorisms, Godard is challenged here to begin communicating with an actual human being and so can't help but reveal some tangible thoughts in regards to his choice to create this piece of cinema that he calls Histoire(s) du Cinéma. This edited interview then provides some incite into the Godard's own history in relation to cinema. After this, however, we get some feminist critique that is focused on the paradigm of men making films about women. Nothing struck me in this sequence beyond the screen presence of Julie Delpy - which I'm sure was part of Godard's intentions - but, despite his provocation, this sequence said very little and nothing of apparent worth.

Part three bleeds into part four with Godard's continued look at women in the cinema. 

The humanity of men can often be found--can be best found--through women, after that, children (which is not to suggest that all men always treat women or children correctly). Nonetheless, if this is true, do men inherently dehumanise women? My answer: of course not. Godard expresses the former idea, but seemingly assumes a cynical stance with his incoherent critique of men. However, he doesn't seem too interested in women, rather, what men do with cinema and how it is 'dehumanised'. To humanise cinema Godard seemingly suggest that the immaterial and transcendent must be put front and centre, his formal approaching implying that this must be done though alienation. 

Maybe I could indulge these ideas if Godard showed any understanding of transcendent cinema - that of Dreyer, Bresson, Tarkovsky, Bergman, etc. - in his works.

Part 5 opens strong with Godard's anti-war sentiments finding their way to the screen comfortably with clear Marxist overtones. Whilst the rare clarity in expression and articulation soon melts away as the political veil is pierced, The Coin of the Absolute feels somewhat unified. In such, the jump into what seems to be a conversation on post-WWII filmmaking resonates in some way with Godard's return to much-visited notions of humanism. Through his depiction of Italian cinema as, it seems, 'absolute' for the manner in which it confronted history through figures such as Rosselini and Fellini, we then see almost all other cinema denigrated (especially that of Britain; Godard really doesn't seem to have a thought for UK cinema for it produces nothing). 

For this dogmatism that hides behind obscurity and refuses debate, there doesn't seem to be any true intellectual worth behind this part. This is nonetheless somewhat articulate thanks to Godard's transparency of character.

With A New Wave, Godard sheds some reverence for his specific epoch and movement of filmmaking. Whilst we can easily infer why he reveres the New Wave films of the 50s and 60s - baring in mind that he only really references French and Italian cinema seemingly as the only cinemas that exist alongside the cinema of Hollywood and, to a lesser degree, Germany and Sweden - nothing striking manifests itself here. In such, whilst we could assume that Godard thinks the strengths of the New Wave concern revisionism, a relationship with wold history, present day, cinematic history and individuality, there is no material in the section that I can point to in direct reference to this. 

It now then seems that Godard is succeeding in creating a cinema that does not speak and cannot be spoken about; it is, and there for he is... whilst I wish I wasn't.

In the penultimate part of Histoire(s) du Cinéma, Godard constructs a poem of two clear halves. The fist half of The Control Of The Universe suggests that cinema is a construction of humanity and that it should be under the complete control of the auteur - and this is suggested with focus on Hitchcock, form and style. This then inspires a Soviet Constructivist perspective that someone such as Vertov would hold with his concept of the Kino-Eye; cinema can show what is inaccessible to the naked eye in the hands of a few select people 

This is followed up by existentialist meanderings which contrast and conflict with this suggested power of the artist. The purpose of this part then seems to be to imply a tension between human control and 'free will'.

Ending with abruptness and ambiguity, Histoire(s) du Cinéma concludes that cinema warns us of something - an end maybe - but that we reject it on such grounds. Godard suggests this with a parallel to a novel of Ramuz from which the title, The Signs Among Us, was apparently taken before exploring a myriad of non-sequiturs. I can't muster a summary of Godard's perspective here as nothing comes through his opaque frames. Thus, Histoire(s) du Cinéma ends as a piece of anti-cinema about cinema and history as expression of one another that, it seems, no one - apart from Godard and maybe the filmmakers he likes - knows how to approach correctly. 

With the final exasperating minutes of "Godard's magnum opus" (which seems to put the moronic in oxymoronic) I can then only think of myself to be free. I nonetheless hold no regrets.

Previous post:

End Of The Week Shorts #30.2

Next post:

Numéro Deux - Say What!?

More from me:

amazon.com/author/danielslack