«La Pointe-Courte» was Agnès Varda's first feature film and the first film-manifesto of the "nouvelle vague". In it, Varda broke with some narrative traditions, following neorealist strategies, distancing Bertolt Brecht style and a "mise-en-caméra" close to direct cinema, which was gaining ground around the world at that time, including France where it was euphemistically called "cinéma vérité".
The different influences blend well in the same story, but not all ot them have the same appeal and, in the final analysis, my balance leans more towards the narrative of fiction of anthropological affiliation, than towards the aesthetic compositions of a couple in crisis with which Varda disguises melodrama, aurally reinforced by self-referential declamations of the man and the woman. In fact, in the synopsis that I have read (and in Varda's own words), the story of this couple is taken as the principal storyline, when, in fact, the neighborhood and its fishermen are the true "anti-stars".
With natural actors (the inhabitants of the fishing neighborhood of La Pointe-Courte, in the South of France) Varda tells a story that serves as a unifying thread of the different influences, in which local men insist on fishing in a small contaminated maritime "lagoon" and are consequently persecuted by the Department of Health. At the same time, the filmmaker shows us events that animate their lives: the first love, the patriarchy confrontations, the sporting joust, the death of a child...
On the other hand, Varda, who always alluded to happiness or its absence in her filmography, takes us away from the neorealist liveliness and immerses us in long affective ramblings (which were common in the "nouvelle vague" works, especially in the films by Godard, Rohmer and Resnais), which are nothing more than the process of sentimental adjustment of one La Pointe-Courte native (Philippe Noiret) and his Parisian wife (Silvia Monfort).
As if sensing the strength of the La Pointe-Courte people and their lives, Varda opened and closed the film with images of the neighborhood and its faces: in the first sequence, morning breakfasts are interrupted by the appearance of officials from the Department of Health, and in the end, a popular dance is enlivened by a band that is frozen in the final shot. Without intending to, Agnès Varda left us a moment of film history, of a corner of France, of a popular culture on the coast, as a worthy preamble to her prestigious career.
The different influences blend well in the same story, but not all ot them have the same appeal and, in the final analysis, my balance leans more towards the narrative of fiction of anthropological affiliation, than towards the aesthetic compositions of a couple in crisis with which Varda disguises melodrama, aurally reinforced by self-referential declamations of the man and the woman. In fact, in the synopsis that I have read (and in Varda's own words), the story of this couple is taken as the principal storyline, when, in fact, the neighborhood and its fishermen are the true "anti-stars".
With natural actors (the inhabitants of the fishing neighborhood of La Pointe-Courte, in the South of France) Varda tells a story that serves as a unifying thread of the different influences, in which local men insist on fishing in a small contaminated maritime "lagoon" and are consequently persecuted by the Department of Health. At the same time, the filmmaker shows us events that animate their lives: the first love, the patriarchy confrontations, the sporting joust, the death of a child...
On the other hand, Varda, who always alluded to happiness or its absence in her filmography, takes us away from the neorealist liveliness and immerses us in long affective ramblings (which were common in the "nouvelle vague" works, especially in the films by Godard, Rohmer and Resnais), which are nothing more than the process of sentimental adjustment of one La Pointe-Courte native (Philippe Noiret) and his Parisian wife (Silvia Monfort).
As if sensing the strength of the La Pointe-Courte people and their lives, Varda opened and closed the film with images of the neighborhood and its faces: in the first sequence, morning breakfasts are interrupted by the appearance of officials from the Department of Health, and in the end, a popular dance is enlivened by a band that is frozen in the final shot. Without intending to, Agnès Varda left us a moment of film history, of a corner of France, of a popular culture on the coast, as a worthy preamble to her prestigious career.