“Their friendship was very sound. True, they were different – one sang. the other didn’t. Yet, they were alike”

These words are some of the final spoken by Agnès Varda in her role as narrator. We have previously followed the life of two women. The one who sings is Pauline (Valérie Mairesse), otherwise known as “Pomme” (or “Apple”), and the one who doesn’t is Suzanne (Thérèse Liotard). They sit in melancholy in the countryside, fondly meditating on the journey that got them this far, and how their lives have intertwined throughout the years since their fateful first meeting – Pauline/Pomme is a singer who tours the country with her folk band, The Orchids, singing of the joys of womanhood. Suzanne runs an organization that provides support to women in times of pregnancy, helping them through the process, or assisting them in acquiring legal and safe abortions should they decide to do so. Over the fifteen years we see chronicled, there have been laughter and tears, romances and heartbreaks, births and abortions over the course of their friendship, and despite all their challenges, their strong bond has endured since the very beginning, and even though there is quite a distance between them most of the time (which spans entire continents at one point), they always find their way back to each other, understanding the vital role a good friend plays in one’s life, which should never be underestimated, as demonstrated here.

Agnès Varda was one of a kind. Her films are gorgeous in visual style and sumptuous in the scope of storytelling, and often traverse the lines between fact and fiction in a way few filmmakers know how. One Sings, the Other Doesn’t (French: L’une chante, l’autre pas) is an exceptional film about a panoply of themes that were resonant back then, and remain relevant now (particularly so considering the modern social climate), and a profoundly moving story about two individuals who may not be particularly special, but are representations of a temporal moment that allowed the director to explore some of her most intricate social quandaries through a semi-fictional perspective of narrative storytelling. One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is a gorgeous globe-spanning feminist odyssey unfolding over the course of more than a decade, and a steadfast celebration of womanhood and the human condition, which endures continuous challenges in the pursuit of inner joy and external acceptance and tolerance. Varda is at her most socially-charged here, taking on numerous smaller themes and forming them into a vivid mosaic of a time of great social upheaval and cultural change occurring throughout the course of the late 1960s and early 1970s. The winds of change were steadily blowing, with the filmmaker ready to capture the imminent shift through her extraordinary vision of the human spirit.

One Sings, the Other Doesn’t contains so many different concepts and themes, it is difficult to narrow them all down, not only because they’re so innumerable, but also several are almost intangible and impossible to describe faithfully. This film is simultaneously very funny and extremely sad, uplifting but still heartbreaking, simple in execution but complex in the story it tells. Varda was at her most socially-charged here, crafting a film about two women going through their conventional lives and facing ordinary challenges, repurposed as thrilling, beautiful cinema through the filmmaker’s unique approach to telling stories and finding the extraordinary beauty in the most mundane of situations, and the hidden nuances of everyday life that are all too often glossed over by other works in favour of more conventionally riveting content. One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is a breezy, nostalgic journey into France in the 1960s and 1970s, and an endearing but heart-wrenching story about two people growing from innocence to experience, earning various kinds of education along the way, and learning about life and its challenges, finding out how to surmount the most tricky of situations. Varda was never someone to rely too much on poetic liberty to deceive the audience into feeling certain emotions without authentic impetus – she keeps everything profoundly honest, and she remains earnest in her intention to represent reality, no matter how banal it may be to some looking for more conventionally enthralling cinema. Yet, despite the realist overtones of the film, One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is an upbeat, optimistic film that leaves the viewer with an undeniable sense of warmth and a cheery sensation, which Varda always imbued her films with in great abundance.

Interestingly, One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is a slight departure from some of Varda’s other films insofar as it is not an ensemble-based look at society (like La Pointe Courte), nor a modernist journey of a single individual in a certain social setting (which she previously perfected with Cleo from 5 to 7, and would do again with Vagabond), but one built upon two characters and their interweaving lives. This film, as good as it is, would not have been nearly as compelling had it only focused on one of the two characters, as on their own, they are interesting but hardly remarkable, but when taken together, they’re fascinating. This is a result of the duality present in how Varda represents them and their different ways of life, which allows this film to take on some engrossing social commentary. Even in the title, we can see that Suzanne and Pauline are two different individuals – one sings, the other doesn’t. This spirit of difference is kept throughout the film, as we see the two women venturing on their own separate paths, but intermittently keeping in contact with each other, forming vital parts of the other’s life, even if they aren’t always present. Varda has always been so profoundly adept at developing her characters beyond mere vessels of the story (even in the dreadful Le Bonheur, she still made use of interesting characterization tactics that may have positioned certain characters as archetypes, but effectively so), and it has never been more clear than in One Sings, the Other Doesn’t, which approaches these individuals as more than just two ordinary women, and despite having radically different ambitions and achievements, they are still two sides of the same coin, dependant on the other, but mainly for support and spiritual guidance.

In order to interpret these two characters, two remarkable actresses were brought in to play them. Valérie Mairesse is the more ethereal of the two, a profoundly likeable dreamer who aspires to be a great social advocate and someone who can change hearts and minds through her music, into which she puts all of her time and effort, to the point were interpersonal relationships start to suffer. Thérèse Liotard is the more grounded of the two, the lonely but fiercely independent mother of two who sees herself as being perfectly capable of doing everything anyone else in a conventional family can. The two characters are seemingly polar opposites – Pauline prioritizes fun and creativity, while Suzanne focuses on more serious matters. Yet, Varda never portrays them in a negative light – Pauline is never shown to be absent-minded or lazy, and Suzanne is never too dour or humourless. They are just two women with very different paths in life. The film leans more towards Mairesse’s character, demonstrating her growth over time and her transition from fun-loving teenager to a more serious but no less creative adult. Pauline is a character who goes through the most, and Mairesse’s ability to harness several emotions and use them effectively makes this a captivating performance. This isn’t to dismiss Liotard, who is just as brilliant, finding it within herself to play a character who deals with her own quandaries without the same support others receive. These are two exceptional performances from two incredible young actresses, who make an auspicious imprint on the mind of every viewer, leaving us utterly shaken by the sheer might of their astonishing portrayals.

There are two central themes present in One Sings, the Other Doesn’t – the celebration of femininity and the process of coming-of-age in an increasingly socially-conscious society. Normally, we’d discuss these two ideas separately, but Varda so deftly sews them together throughout this film, we can’t help viewing them as being heavily interrelated. Varda never made it unknown that she recognized her position as one of the only female filmmakers actively working in France during the time, and it is most evident in her earlier films that serve to be tales of independent women in overwhelming cityscapes, facing feelings of crippling isolation and insatiable anxiety. In many ways, One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is a piece that complements two of her more well-known works from the 1960s – it has the same meditative quality of Cléo from 5 to 7, which saw a young woman contemplates her life while waiting for a life-changing diagnosis, and a counterpoint to Le Bonheur, whereby women were positioned as objects rather than people, being viewed as one-dimensional beings there to serve the male gaze. Differently from these two films, One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is mostly a celebration of womanhood – the two characters may have different lives and varying personalities, but the one quality that remains consistent is their undying devotion to feminist causes. Both Pauline and Suzanne fight for women’s rights, especially when it comes to reproductive issues (which makes One Sings, the Other Doesn’t sadly very resonant to this day, with this theme, in particular, standing out profoundly here), but they go about it differently. Pauline sings and performs and keeps it in the public consciousness, while Suzanne provides intimate guidance and assistance to those that need it. The distance between them throughout the film doesn’t matter – they are working alongside each other in spirit, furthering a cause and contributing their own activism to a greater social issue.

Yet, One Sings, the Other Doesn’t isn’t only about two women fighting for bigger issues such as gender equality and reproductive rights. It is also an intimate film about womanhood and the process of going from innocence to experience. The film takes place between 1962 and 1976, and at the outset, our protagonists are still very young. Pauline is only 17 and still in high school, and Suzanne has just turned 22 but already has two young children – both are insecure and unsure of the future. By the end, they are women, established in their industries and solidified as pillars of their society, who have made indelible impressions on the cultural zeitgeist in their own way – but they haven’t evaded the insecurities entirely yet, and they continue to be tested with new challenges. The film not only tracks their friendship throughout the years but also their journey to adulthood. Through trials and tribulations, they both learn about life and mature in different ways. They undergo different forms of education – traditional (Pauline is still in school at the beginning, and questions whether she should continue pursuing an ordinary life, or drop out to achieve her dreams of becoming a singer), romantic (giddy one-night-stands become long-term relationships) and social, being lifelong students to a broader school of life. They learn about themselves, face the challenges and gain experience from each moment in their life, taking each new occurrence as a lesson that contributes to the broader tapestry of life that they use when encountering new issues and quandaries, whether social or personal.

The coming-of-age story is one that has been done numerous times, but very few are effective as this, because One Sings, the Other Doesn’t focus on two different characters undergoing different journeys that may differ in the direction but ultimately have the exact same destination. One moment in the film is particularly striking in this regard – at the end, the camera pans over the faces of each of the many characters presented throughout the film as they sit alongside a river in deep contemplation, with Varda’s narrator briefly noting how far they’ve gone, and how far they still have to go. The final person shown is not one of the two central protagonists, but rather Suzanne’s daughter, Marie (played now by Rosalie Varda, the daughter of the director), who is now 17, the same age as Pauline was at the outset of the film. The camera lingers on her as we realize that while the coming-of-age of Pauline and Suzanne may now be coming to a close, Marie’s own journey from naive adolescence to womanhood is about to begin, showing that growing up and attending the school of life is an ongoing, cyclical process that everyone goes through, just in different ways. Perhaps the most important message that can be taken from One Sings, the Other Doesn’t is also the most simple – life is filled with challenges, hardships and suffering, but it is also beautiful and filled with joy and memorable moments, and it doesn’t matter how we go through it, because when we’re heading in the same direction, the specific path isn’t important, because ultimately despite our differences, we are all alike in some way, enduring the same challenges and questioning the same aspects of existence as we trudge along through life – its just that some of us sing, others don’t.