Like any good scholar of the school of postmodern literature, I love metafiction. There is something so absurd about seeing or reading something in which the author or creator has a keen self-awareness that is often missing in most forms of literature. One branch of metafiction is metafilm, which is certainly not a concept absent from cinema as a whole. Films about the making of other films are common and have existed for over a century now. Michael Hazanavicius made one of the most endearing and remarkable examples of metafictional film with the toweringly successful The Artist, which brought the obscure French comedy director worldwide acclaim and bundles of awards. The delicate portrayal of the silent era was both a throwback to the origins of cinema, as well as an excellent portrait of the filmmaking process. Hazanavicius didn’t quite relish in his success, because he didn’t return with something of quite the same calibre (which would arguably be very difficult, because as slight and twee as The Artist was, it was a creative masterpiece), but his most recent film, Redoubtable does take him back to the same thematic playground, this time looking at the true story of one of the great metafictional filmmakers, Jean-Luc Godard, who made one of the greatest metafictional films of all time, Contempt. While not quite as remarkable as The Artist, Redoubtable is an eccentric, endearing biographical comedy that shows the filmmaking process in all its grotesque and disorganized glamour. It is a simple film, an effective biographical comedy that does not take itself too seriously, and while it may be just as slight as The Artist, it has an abundance of charms and makes some scathing commentary on various issues, such as social justice and the filmmaking process, often very funny, but also profoundly moving, boasting a pair of terrific performances and a story that is effortlessly delightful, and a playful approach to the subject matter.

Redoubtable focuses on the period between 1967 and 1979 and follows Godard (Louis Garrel) on his attempts to make what he hopes will be his defining social masterpieces. He had already made highly-acclaimed films such as Breathless and Pierrot le Fou and the aforementioned Contempt, but he is nothing close to a stagnant artist, and resting on his laurels seems like a fate worse than death for the filmmaker. He approaches cinema much in the same way that Dziga Vertov did, seeing at as a mode of conveying important social meaning, and he is determined to use the rising political and social agitation occurring around him, such as the Vietnam War, the reign of Mao Zedong and the frequent student protests in France to keep his work current. His muse through these years is his girlfriend and eventual wife, Anne Wiazemsky (Stacy Martin), a fiery philosophy student and daughter of the bourgeoisie who adores the society Godard introduces her to, assimilating into the free-wheeling, carefree world of the young and elite – but as Godard soon discovers, he is approaching irrelevance. He is a hypocrite, someone who wants to display the plight of the working class from his luxurious apartment, or insisting on filming the protests, until it becomes too dangerous, and he is allowed to retreat to a countryside film festival or to another European country to make yet another film about social issues that no one actually wanted to see (yet the critics will denote these films as masterpieces, simply on virtue of the fact that they are made by the incomparable Jean-Luc Godard). The relationship between Godard and Anne undergo various trials and tribulations, especially when Anne manages to convince herself that she deserves to have her own career, and seeks out her own work, much to the chagrin of Godard, who sees her as nothing more than his muse, belonging to him. Their unconventional romance is set against the background of a world in rapid flux, and the changing mentality of society influences the course of their relationship, which is destined to change much like the societies around them.

Hazanavicius really made a significant and concerted effort in casting this film, because the two leads were absolutely astonishing. Louis Garrel gives an exceptional performance as Godard, capturing the filmmaker’s earnest arrogance and self-entitled delusions with precise detail, being able to play the role with cutthroat egoism, but never veering towards caricature, always conveying the most clear and honest sincerity. Godard is a fascinating figure, and it would always be a challenge for any actor to attempt to play him in a film, as it would require deft navigation between being endearing and eccentric, despicable but not villainous, caustic but lovable. It is a performance that requires the utmost fragility from the actor, because while we are never supposed to root for his success, it would be inappropriate to outright despise his character, because, in spite of all his flaws, Godard was a talented filmmaker and one of the greatest social critics of our time. Garrel has exceptional chemistry with Stacy Martin, who is ravishingly brilliant as his muse Anne, who begins to do what Godard had been dreading: she develops her own independence. Despite this film being focused on Godard, Martin is the true core of the film, with much of what transpires throughout the story being fragments of her own emotional journey to independence, especially from Godard, who is restraining her from achieving her own potential. The two leads are brilliant, and they elevate the film through their dedicated and humanistic portrayals of two icons of French cinema and manage to ground these larger-than-life figures and find their own individuality.

More than anything else, as I mentioned previously, Redoubtable is a film about film, and it finds its success in focusing on a very brief period of the life of its remarkable subjects. Jean-Luc Godard is widely considered one of the most important filmmakers in history, and being one of the defining figures of the Nouvelle Vague, or the French New Wave, he found his way into the hallowed halls of cinematic history through his panoply of unique, remarkable films, some of which were amongst the most brilliant social satires of the 1960s. By the time the events of the film transpire, Godard has already made a distinctive name for himself, and is now working actively to disestablish expectations and become reborn as a filmmaker (there are many instances of our protagonist stating that “Godard is dead” – meaning that the filmmaker he was perceived as before is no longer there, and he is rather striving for a more socially-aware reputation). The film follows Godard as he attempts to make socially-important films such as La Chinoise and Pravda, which he founds remarkable, but the audiences find unbearably dull. This film focuses intimately on the artistic process, showing the inherent difficulties in creating in creating anything, as well as noting the added challenges when the artist behind the work is self-entitled, arrogant and delusional to his own intellect (it is not surprising that the real-life Godard voiced his utter disdain at this film – Hazanavicius does not refrain from showing him in the most hilariously negative light). Redoubtable looks at how Godard struggles to make important films, all the while trying to make sure his muse does not find her own independence, especially in the embrace of an endearing filmmaker such as Marco Ferreri. Redoubtable is an explicit portrayal of the creative process of a volatile and troubled genius such as Godard, and it ultimately does succeed at showing the uneasy nature of filmmaking.

However, as fascinating as the insights into the artistic process are, Redoubtable is more a film about relationships as well as more socially-oriented issues, such as that of masculinity. Godard, as I mentioned above, is not shown to be a genius whose actions are justified by his perceived celestial talents – he is conveyed as an immature, insecure and selfish man who is struggling with his own existential quandaries as well as the archetypal mid-life crisis, even likening himself to Mozart, who died very young at the age of only thirty-five, which Godard feels is always necessary for any important artist (and considering that Godard is celebrating his eighty-eighth birthday this year, there is a certain affectionate irony in this bold statement at the outset of the film). This is a film about a man who is bold and daring on the exterior, but internally fragile and insecure. These moments manifest themselves in his interactions with Anne, who makes him feel young, being nearly twice her age at the beginning of their relationship, and continue throughout, showing his insecurities that he may no longer be the edgy, acclaimed voice of a generation he was before. The relationship between the two protagonists is one of perpetual conflict and eventual inevitable resolution, and considering the title of the film refers to a formidable opponent, it find this exceedingly clear throughout the film (and a much better title than that under which it was released in the United States, Godard Mon Amour), with Godard and Anne in continous oscillation between adoration and abhorrence, which may be perceived as representing the unpredictable nature of passion, but results in a bleak conclusion and an oddly satisfying epilogue, where the previous years of arguing and humilation finally resolve themselves as the two individuals go their separate ways. In many ways, Redoubtable is the epitome of an un-romantic comedy – it looks affectionately at the relationship between the two leads, but never falls into trite cliches or unnecessary sentimentality – it is a delightfully vicious portrayal of two individuals who, despite being deeply in love, seem to be unable to stand the other professionally, and when this disdain extends to one’s private life, there is most certainly insurmountable challenges to be faced.

I need to praise, above everything else, how Hazanavicius directed this film. It may not be a film that relies on its aesthetic to sell the story in the same way The Artist was, but it does have its own vivid visual atmosphere that is worth noting. The Artist was a film about the early days of Hollywood that was made to look like a film from the early days of Hollywood, and the same principle has been applied here – Redoubtable is a film about Jean-Luc Godard that looks like it was made by Jean-Luc Godard, being meticulously detailed and precise in how it presents the story, visually. The appearance and the way this film was made draws heavily on the films of its subject, which I found most delightfully meta. Moreover, this film is very self-aware, with characters talking to the camera, or referencing the fact that they know that they are in a film. There is one scene towards the end of the film that is audacious and outrageous but manages to convey the sheer absurdity of the filmmaking process. Hazanavicius really paid careful attention in constructing the era, and there are some stunningly beautiful shots that feel as if they were shot by the New Wave maestro himself. The use of music, the cinematography (shot by regular Hazanavicius collaborator Guillaume Schiffman) and the production design all work together to create a terrific metafictional experience, the exact kind of film Godard would make, which only makes his rejection of this film all the more endearing, and the fact that the filmmakers chose to use his detraction as one of the major selling-points for this film just proves how this was intended to be a hilariously self-referential work.

In many ways, Redoubtable is an inversion of the traditional “starving artist” archetype – Godard is not presented as someone passionate who is struggling to make a name for himself – he has already done so and achieved worldwide acclaim. He is simply bored and agitated, raring to make something meaningful. Michel Hazanavicius takes on the audacious story of one of cinema’s greatest iconoclasts and makes a film that perhaps may not have the overarching importance of Godard’s greatest films, and it is not a defining biographical story of his life and career, but rather a delightfully witty, bitterly hilarious comedy about the interactions between the professional and personal lives of an artist, and how he manages to balance uninspired work with passionate romance, only to have both become victims of his egotistical arrogance. Redoubtable is a terrific film, and certainly entertaining. It lacks seriousness, and it often veers towards the realm of the ridiculous, but it is ultimately a great film, made by a filmmaker who has such affection and disdain for his iconic subject, the result can only be a brutally honest and explicitly hilarious film about a man in crisis.