Review: Godard Mon Amour, 2018, dir. Michel Hazanavicius

Honestly? I can’t imagine a more useless exercise than making an airy biopic, one-part screwball comedy and one-part “great man” drama, about Jean-Luc Fucking Godard, if not because I find him repellent (even though I dig his films), then because Godard would probably definitely find the idea utterly useless. (Note: He called the movie a “stupid, stupid idea,” at least allegedly.) On the one hand, if you want to make a story like Godard’s into fluff, you can do worse than Michel Hazanavicius. On the other hand, you can do better, too, though at least he has the balls to call Godard on his rank antisemitism where most Godard-obsessives would probably just skirt it.

Whatever, point is, this movie isn’t very good, though I do appreciate that Louis Garrel agreed to get full-frontal naked for the camera. There isn’t enough male nudity in cinema. But frank commentary on nudity carried out by two nude, attractive actors isn’t enough to make Godard Mon Amour valuable, so I dunked on it over at Paste Magazine.

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