I’m not going to eulogize Agnès Varda in this review. Despite the fact that she’s an artist who means a considerable amount to me, and considering this is her final (and perhaps most personal) film, it seems inappropriate to use this space as one to lament her dying – not only because I’ve already written about her legacy and why her death is an enormous loss for the cinematic community, but also because it seems quite counterproductive to what she says in this film, which is a celebration of life – not only her life, but the entire concept of existence and the very nature of what drives us as individuals. Varda by Agnès is an incredible swan-song for a filmmaker who quite certainly changed cinema in her own way, and despite being quite sincere in stating that this was going to be her final work, the film never feels as if it is saying goodbye at all, with the exception of the chilling final moments. It’s not an ending – in fact, one could argue that Faces Places was Varda saying goodbye, concluding a trilogy of documentaries that also included The Gleaners & I and The Beaches of Agnès. I like to see Varda by Agnès not as the end to her career, but as a wonderful epilogue to an artist who made such significant contributions to the cinematic landscape throughout her career, and whose impact on everyone who encountered her, whether through her beautiful fiction films or her astonishing documentaries, leaves an indelible impression, a fond set of memories of a woman who proclaimed herself to be “pleasantly plump”, and whose joy for life makes this very simple piece one of the most memorable films of the year, and a perfect coda to a career that very few filmmakers can ever hope to amount to. The final work by an artist is never something that should be taken lightly, but Varda shows that it doesn’t need to be a dour affair, but one that is as vibrant and resonating with a certain profound depth as every one of her previous films.

Talking about Varda in the past sense is challenging – not only because she was always such a vivacious presence, but because her films don’t lend themselves to the melancholy that comes when experiencing a piece of art created by someone who knows that they are at the end of their lives. Varda by Agnès takes the form of a lecture, interspersed with segments from Varda’s various films, as well as new footage she filmed to tie everything together. It never feels as if we are watching the director say goodbye – by the point, she evidently knew she was at the end of her life, but she narrowly avoids every bit of sympathy that comes with it, often dismissing the idea of death as nothing but another stage of life (it begs the question: does an artist ever truly die if their work is remembered?). There’s a sense of joy in the film, insofar as she’s liberated by the chance to tell her story, but never feels the need to regress to seek out pity. However, she also doesn’t avoid approaching these facts of life, speaking openly and without fear. Varda is admired for many reasons – she was a revolutionary, an icon and an artist in every sense of the word. Yet, what has made her such a beloved figure, one that is far more than just a respected filmmaker, is how she truly embodies the spirit of candour. Her honesty defines her, especially in these later films that see her reflecting on her life – importantly, we need to note that her films always served to be meditations on her life, but rarely ruminations on her death, at least not in the way that we’d expect. This seems to form the basis of Varda by Agnès, which is a film that I’d even say shouldn’t exist under ordinary circumstances: Faces Places was such an extraordinary way to put her career to rest, especially in the final moments where she passes the torch to her co-director and friend JR, and by extent hands over the industry she helped define to the new generation. Yet, Varda by Agnès also doesn’t feel unnecessary – in fact, the very existence of this film is a marvel, because it gives us the chance to hear some parting thoughts from Varda, and get the answers to the questions many of us have wondered. Very few artists are able to give such a poignant farewell, and the film’s tendency to not be an overwrought tribute, but rather a concise and heartwarming exploration of a career, makes it even more worthwhile, and exactly what we’d expect from someone like Varda, who was never one for sentimentality, or at least not in the traditional sense.

Varda by Agnès works for a number of reasons. It sits outside of the aforementioned trilogy of documentaries she made, but also fits in with them in some significant ways. However, it presents us with a different kind of Varda – she has the same exuberance and lust for life that she always did, but she’s not the same filmmaker gallivanting through rural areas, trodding through the beaches or driving through idyllic countryside vistas while singing along to long-forgotten disco hits. The film takes us beyond the landscapes, and gives us the chance to be in direct contact with Varda herself, taking us on an intimate journey that leaves nothing between the artist and the audience other than the screen itself. Mostly a filmed series of lectures that Varda undertook in the last year of her life, Varda by Agnès sees her explaining various aspects of the artistic process – she sums up her proverbial tool-box of filmmaking as consisting of three steps: inspiration, creation and sharing. Throughout the film, she returns to these fundamental ideas and uses examples from her own career to illustrate how she has always made use of the same concepts, regardless of what she’s making, or the story she’s telling. Jumping between films, and oscillating between her cinematic output and her more experimental work in visual art, the film offers us the chance to hear Varda speak without boundaries – she’s in control, and rather than grandstanding and presenting herself as some long-suffering artist who faced so many challenges throughout her career, she takes the opportunity to give us insights into these films and the circumstances around their creation: what inspired them, what the process of making them was like, and other fascinating stories that even the most devoted admirer of the filmmaker may not have ever fully known. Varda by Agnès is a film that has many purposes – it’s a pertinent text for Varda scholars, but also a delightful journey through a career that lasted over half a century, told by an artist whose intentions in making this film feel less like someone looking for praise by relaying their achievements to an audience of admirers, but rather as someone delivering advice and wisdom to a group of people she truly considers her friends, and that’s certainly exactly how it feels.

Nobody understands the artistic process quite like Varda, and one of her defining qualities as a filmmaker, as well as someone who spoke extensively about filmmaking throughout her career, is that she didn’t see it as something restricted to someone with talent or many resources. Varda was the epitome of humility throughout her career, and part of her charm is that she never positioned herself as an authority on filmmaking, but rather someone who started as a scrappy outsider to an industry that may not have initially been welcoming to someone with the ideas that she had, but who still doubtlessly demonstrated tenacity in telling the stories she wanted to tell. Varda truly believed that anyone could make films, which is why Varda by Agnès is not limited to just being retrospective, but rather a workshop in which the director takes us on a creative journey, showing us the seemingly boundless places a feisty blend of imagination and dedication can take anyone who wants to make films. She breaks down the process, and the very nature of cinema, into a few smaller ideas that shed the impenetrable mystique of filmmaking and rather presents it to us as a series of steps that can either be followed or defied, just as long as whoever is trying to make the film does so with conviction. Her career was so varied, rooted in numerous genres and forms, it often becomes quite difficult to pin down a particular style – but this was all part and parcel of what makes Varda such an endearing figure. Starting from the outset of her career, and journeying right towards the end, she was playful and didn’t ever stop experimenting with the form. Even here, the way she explores fact and fiction, using reality not as the gospel but as a tool to bolster her own vision of the artistic process, shows that Varda was never one to rest on her laurels – she still finds time in what was clearly intended to be her final work to challenge conventions and redefine the boundaries of filmmaking, non-fiction and otherwise, which she delivers with the same blithe wit and heartfelt warmth that she came to be known for.

The warmth is ultimately what makes Varda by Agnès such an enthralling experience – the intimacy through which Varda presents this film is quite simply unprecedented and gives it a certain elegance that would not have worked had she gone for something even slightly more innovative. Varda’s later career was quite heavily defined by her penchant for simplicity, with all of her ideas being executed with straightforward practicality – and the fact that Varda by Agnès is so clearly the work of Varda, with the director having complete control over every aspect of the film, not relying on others to construct the film, but rather to supplement it, shows how she was one of the hardest working people in the industry, whose approach was done with an almost renegade attitude towards the filmmaking process. Whether simply sitting in a chair and speaking to the audiences, who listen so intently to every word she says, or in the forays outside of the theatre and into Varda’s career, whether visiting footage from her past films, or in new segments that she filmed, many of which allow us to once again venture into her own life, Varda’s vision here is bold and clear. This extends far beyond a retrospective on the director’s work, and takes the form of a dialogue – despite Varda talking for nearly the entire duration of the film, she’s engaging in a conversation with the audience, as well as her past work. Her career is something the director is so clearly very proud of – she even acknowledges her past failures, but still speaks of them with pride. For Varda, a film was not a way of making money, nor was it something that should be done for fame or acclaim (you can even argue that the last person who wanted Agnès Varda to be famous was the director herself), and the way she speaks about the recognition she received and the many awards bestowed to her isn’t dismissive, but rather indicates that there was something more important underlying her work.  Varda by Agnès is a very simple film that serves many functions, but none of them are quite as meaningful as the realization that Varda isn’t celebrating her work, she’s passing her career to an entirely new generation of artists. The film works best when we realize that it’s Varda allowing us into her creative process, in the hopes that the lessons she’s learned throughout her career could be of use anyone who, like her, simply has to make films, regardless of the cost or consequences that come with it.

There are so many profound moments in Varda by Agnès, but none of them hit quite as hard as the ending, where Varda takes the opportunity to break our hearts in the most devasting way. We’re presented with footage from Faces Places, which most of us thought was going to be the final film of her career, mainly because so much of that film revolved around her coming to terms with her own mortality. She speaks about a particular scene in which she and JR return to the site of one of their photography installations, only to see the tide has taken it away. They sit joyfully in a sandstorm, before Varda simply says “I’m disappearing in the blur – leaving you” before the film abruptly ends as the image of her fades away. It’s the convergence of the career of a filmmaker who fundamentally changed cinema, but more importantly touched the lives of innumerable people, and anyone who has ever understood what made her so extraordinarily special will have trouble coming to terms with those haunting final words, which are more melancholy than tragic. What makes Varda by Agnès so compelling is that the director is not afraid to show how finite everything is – all must come to an end, and she’s intrepid in showing that while she may be gone, her films and the stories behind them live on. The Varda we see presented to us on stage, delivering these lectures, is not the same young woman who picked up a camera in 1954 and filmed La Pointe Courte, but rather a more mature version, someone quietly receding from her own life and into the memory of everyone whose lives she has touched in some way, whether collaborators or admirers, where she will continue to live as a joyful, lively spirit with such a unique love for life.

This is a film that I absolutely adored, but it’s also one I’m profoundly grateful for, because to hear Varda give the final word on her career, as well as imparting the lessons she learned along the way, is truly inspiring, and one of the many reasons why she is one of the most important film figures of her generation. Varda by Agnès is a film that doesn’t avoid telling the truth, as uncomfortable as it may be. It takes hold of reality, and thrusts it into the ether, showing the raw beauty that comes with existence, showing us a tender side to the trials and tribulations of contemporary life that feels so honest, without being overwrought or uncomfortable. It is a vibrant film that resonates with the iconic vivacity that Varda never quite lost, remaining just as curious and revolutionary in her old age as she was in the earliest stages of her career. The last few months since her passing has shown us how valuable Agnès Varda was, both as an artistic institution and as an individual, and while many people have shared their own memories and recollections of Varda, whether through direct interactions or just experiencing her beautifully chaotic vision of the world as conveyed through her films, it becomes clear that Varda by Agnès is an essential film, the coda to an extraordinary career of a woman who may no longer be here, but who has left audiences – whether past, present or future – with a magnificent legacy that shows that absolutely anything is possible, just as long as you have something to say and the willingness and fearlessness to say it.