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In Praise of Love (a.k.a. Eloge De L’Amour) (2001) Manhattan International Pictures 1 hr. 38 mins. Starring: Bruno Putzulu, Cecile Camp, Jean Davy, Francoise Verny, Phillippe Lyrette Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard In Praise of Love Rating:  
E-MAIL FRANK OCHIENG Legendary filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard has always been a daring and experimental visionary in the world of abstract cinema. He came into prominence in the 1960’s with his revolutionary take on the French New Wave scene. Well, a lot has settled down over the years as feisty Godard’s cinematic vibrancy began to considerably wane. In essence, the 71-year old moviemaker is a looming shadow of his former Nouvelle Vague self. This assessment can be based on his most recent effort "In Praise of Love" (also known in some circles as "Eulogy of Love" or Eloge De L’Amour). Godard’s ode to tackling life’s wonderment is a rambling and incoherent manifesto about the vagueness of topical excess ranging anywhere from the emotional stronghold of love to the depths of death and beyond. Although the writer-director will get the benefit of the doubt in terms of his ambitious opus, one still cannot dismiss the fact that "In Praise of Love" remains a ponderous and pretentious endeavor that’s unfocused and tediously exasperating. Let’s face facts in that Godard has never really been a subtle force behind the camera in the way he helms his unorthodox high-spirited projects. But in light of his previous highly-touted sensationalistic efforts such as "Breathless" and the stimulating erotic classic "My Life to Live", this filmmaking fogey is in the stages of a creative decline. The incomprehensible story revolves around a writer named Edgar (Bruno Putzulu), a perplexed artist who’s creatively stuck in an indecisive mode. Edgar has a concept for what he wants to do in terms of his artistic work but cannot muster up the format in which he wants to demonstrate this creative idea. Should his expressive urgency be in the form of a novel? A stage play? A film? Whatever the case may be, Edgar’s stagnation is quite evident and he has trouble trying to overcome what amounts to be a road block of conceptual input. So what’s his solution to this ordeal? Why he tackles his empty creativeness by reading a blank book of course! Hmmm…that seemingly logical, right? There are other spontaneous subplots that weave in and out without any particular rhyme or reason. Without realizing how monotonous the storytelling layout really is the cantankerous movie martyr sticks with the ill-advised decision to serve up his scattered plotlines in infuriating, choppy doses. On one hand, he finds the voyeuristic pleasure in serving up a vignette concerning a good-looking gal who has the sudden naughty urge to flash herself to some unsuspecting passengers. On the other hand, Godard devotes some considerable time in bringing us details about Hollywood’s intent on buying the rights to a story about an elderly couple and their experience in the French Resistance. True to form, Godard doesn’t hold back in his diatribe regarding the familiar overstated philosophical targets that he likes to pose in bewildered fashion. Noteworthy "themes" on the cinema cynic’s agenda includes chaotic subject matters such as life-after-death, art, religion, history, time and space, financial considerations, etc. Godard also finds the misguided energy to take pot shots at American sensibilities via the mainstream media route. Among the tongue-lashing that moody movie overseer offers his off-kilter musings on include the disregard for Tinseltown titans such as Steven Spielberg and Julie Roberts. Also, Hollywood’s exploitative tactics for sucking the blood out of historical events for the cheap thrill of greedy box office profit (read Spielberg’s "Schindler’s List" or James Cameron’s "Titanic" as blatant examples), etc. There can be some argument for Godard’s disdain of American commercialism in film and the overall questionable practices that Hollywood chooses to engage in. However, Godard’s his own worst enemy because he elects to conjure up an ambiguously oversimplified and underdeveloped botched commentary in a film that has the sturdy direction of a broken weather vane. The motion picture would have garnered more sympathetic vibes if not for its delusional and disjointed platitudes being tossed around. "In Praise of Love" obviously has a lot on its mind but the convoluted structure and aimless bantering makes this offering difficult to appreciate and digest wholly. The meditative motif concerning the human condition and what is at stake in terms of how we take our existence for granted is a noble and agreeable forethought to try and capture on film. And you wouldn’t even mind Godard’s unpopular opinion as to whether he harbors anti-American sensibilities or not. But to deliver a slew of confusing cognitive tidbits and disguise it as the erratic gospel truth according to an opinionated blustery film veteran and his corrosive and clumsy celluloid product is indeed inexplicable. From a technical aspect, "In Praise of Love" is woefully inept and bewildering. Godard tries to be exceedingly original in the way he photographs his nonsensical camera-handheld "labor of love". The images, for the most part, are interestingly dynamic at times. But in the scheme of things, the 35mm black-and-white look alternates with the color digital video format therefore giving the film more of an incomplete and shoddy feel that doesn’t make this storyline as delectable as it thinks it is already. Godard’s "In Praise of Love" is a rigorous undertaking to say the least. Whatever soul-searching truth he was trying to explore, it got lost so profoundly in this exceedingly scattershot session. Overwrought and interminably depleted, this is one kind of tough "Love" to endure while reluctantly holding a straight face! Gone are the days of an exciting existentialist movie mastermind who once knew how to stroke the consciousness of the enthusiastically challenged, adventurous moviegoer. It’s so sad…how very sad! Click here to comment on this review or post your own thoughts. Frank Ochieng © TheWorldJournal.com |
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