This is the second time I've watched this film, obviously, my memory had faded sufficiently after the first time, otherwise I would not had undertaken such an arduous task. Every scene reeks of Godard's dated, disgusting intellectual pretensions, the guy hates everybody and everything. Actors annoyingly overact their way through every scene, obviously having no idea what their characters are meant to be doing, or where the 'plot' is going. The 'action' sequences contain heavy handed symbolism (the usual tripe, the malaise of the bourgeoisie etc.) which I suspect are meant to be funny, but just come off as intellectually lazy. Godard inserts himself as some kind of shamanic figure who throws out philosophic gems which would sound embarrassing coming from a teenager, he also finds time to flick his cigar ash into other people's food and seemingly attempts to molest his niece in one of the initial scenes, that crazy Godard! In the end, it's just a redundant exercise in breaking all the rules, there is no transcendence or insight here, all we have is the empty, stillborn descendant of Duchamp's toilet.
Review of First Name: Carmen
