There are few moments in cinema history more vital than the birth of the French New Wave, and regardless of how one feels about the movement or the artists involved in it, we cannot ignore the impact made by these filmmakers and their cohorts in crafting an entirely new cinematic lexicon. As time has progressed, we’ve found reverence for the era becoming even more widespread – and while everyone will likely have their own choice for the person who best represents the movement, most tend to associate it with Jean-Luc Godard, at least to the extent that he is considered the mascot for this period. Needless to say, as not only one of its pioneers but also one of the longest-surviving members of that generation of directors, he’s been the subject of a lot of conversation, ranging from mythologising his artistry to celebrating his contributions – and most of them point towards his masterpiece Breathless as the moment the French New Wave truly gained momentum. Someone who was evidently very inspired by this film and the movement as a whole is Richard Linklater – and he defies expectations by taking a journey outside of the United States (where most of his films are set), and voyaging back in time to the early 1960s in Paris, recounting the story behind the creation of Breathless, following Godard’s efforts to bring his vision to life and essentially forging history along the way. Nouvelle Vague is a film whose ambition we can admire, especially coming from someone who has never made anything that seems entirely analogous to this film and what it represents, but still has the necessary skills to convincingly pull it off. Unfortunately, this is where the praise has to be paused, since Nouvelle Vague is filled with flaws, most of which come in how Linklater falters in some of the most obvious ways, leading to a film that seems promising in theory, but in reality is barely notable.

Like most people who appreciate art as a concept, I don’t believe there are too many cases where a filmmaker needs to have layers of experience to be able to tell a particular story, outside of instances where we’re looking at marginalised groups or cultural details that require some nuance to fully understand. Therefore, as peculiar a choice as he may have been to direct this film, there’s nothing inherently wrong about Linklater helming a film about the French New Wave, especially since his credentials as a film lover are well-documented enough to lead us to believe that he was well-equipped to handle these many ideas. Unfortunately, he is not as adept at handling these ideas as we may hope, and his love for the subject matter, as clear as it may be, is not enough to justify most of the decisions he makes throughout the film. The foundation of Nouvelle Vague is built around an insider’s perspective into the conception and production of Breathless, told from a number of different perspectives, each one offering new insights into the creative process. Unfortunately, it is in this approach that we find the film falling apart almost immediately – nearly every figure in this film has long been deceased, meaning that we don’t have too many firsthand accounts, nor do we have anyone who can determine the accuracy of what is being conveyed on screen. Instead, everything is taken from reports and accounts that have long been available to us, meaning that it offers very little new information, and instead acts as nothing more than a well-crafted recreation of material that has always been well-known, leaving very little to be discovered. It’s a surface-level approach that doesn’t do anything even vaguely revolutionary, which seems to go against the very principles of the movement being explored throughout this film.

Linklater’s approach to this film is quite simple – tell the story of Breathless from the perspective of the people who were there. No stone is left unturned as far as characters are concerned, with a cast of dozens being enlisted to play icons of the French New Wave, ranging from Godard and his direct collaborators to his friends and colleagues to the mentors who helped inspire him to pursue this challenging career. Perhaps the only aspect of Nouvelle Vague that is worth praising is the exceptional casting – somehow, Linklater and casting director Stéphane Manaranche manage to populate the film with actors who are not particularly well-known (almost all of them are newcomers), but are dead ringers for the people they are playing. Unfortunately, this is as far as we can go, since despite physical resemblance and perhaps some surface-level character traits, very few of them are truly able to embody the spirit of their real-life counterparts. Some exceptions include Guillaume Marbeck as Godard – he captures the holier-than-thou attitude quite well, but also doesn’t just rely on showing him as some hopelessly pretentious intellectual, but brings a sense of playfulness that we don’t often associate with the director. Zoe Deutch is quite good as Jean Seberg (and as one of the few truly recognisable performers in this film, she does bring a sense of familiarity to the story), while Benjamin Clery, Jodie Ruth-Forest and Aubry Dullin are scene-stealers, albeit being severely underused for the most part. The rest of the cast is fine, but the characterisation is not favourable to them, since they have only a couple of scenes at most (some characters don’t even get to speak a word of dialogue, and their inclusion overall feels quite strange), and it makes us wish that Linklater either dared to excise a few that were nothing more than set dressing, or extend this film into a limited series, to cast a wider net into the lives of these people.

Unfortunately, something we’ve come to learn is that beautiful filmmaking ultimately doesn’t mean much if the story and its ideas are shallow, which is the primary reason Nouvelle Vague falls apart at the seams. This is not a film designed to be appreciated by those with an active knowledge of the period being depicted – the flaws will easily be picked apart, and its status as a decidedly bland film will become clear. Instead, it’s made to be appealing to younger viewers or those who don’t have much active knowledge of the French New Wave, and while it sounds hopelessly pretentious to make such a statement (considering cinema is for everyone, and creating borders of appreciation is not a good idea), the shallowness of the narrative is indicative of these problems. Linklater is a competent filmmaker and has a flair for visuals, and this does reflect in how he frames the film. He captures Paris in 1960 quite well, and the recreations of the iconic scenes in Breathless are not without merit. However, this is where the potential does come to an end, since the visuals may be strong, but the execution is not comparable. For example, because Godard pioneered a new kind of editing, it’s bizarre that Nouvelle Vague seems so hopelessly bland, lacking any rhythm or sincerity, and ultimately being poorly paced, lacking the madcap energy that made these early French masterpieces so invigorating. Competence is simply not enough – this film needed a more precise attention to detail, and coming from someone whose work has always revolved around more casual, dialogue-driven narratives more than it did fast-paced, rapidly-edited films in which snappy dialogue was the priority, we have to wonder whether Linklater should have actually been in charge of making this film in the first place.

It is difficult not to at least admire the effort that went into Nouvelle Vague, a film that works better in theory than it did in practice, ultimately being a bit of a bore, despite its potential. Linklater was frankly the wrong person to tell this story – but we can also ponder whether or not anyone else should have been tasked with making this film, since it doesn’t come across as something that needed to be revisited. Michel Hazanavicius already made a decent film about Godard in Redoubtable, and while that was also very flawed (making us question whether he’s actually an interesting subject in the first place), it indicates that there was no reason for this film in particular to be made. It is aesthetically very beautiful, but also hopelessly inessential and frankly a bit of a chore, enough for us to view it as one of the few genuine misfires in Linklater’s otherwise stellar directorial career. It moves at a pace far slower than was appropriate, never amounts to anything beyond the most obvious, and ultimately just doesn’t honour the French New Wave in the way we would hope. It’s well-made, but not enough to compensate for the narrative and tonal flaws, and despite the accuracy in both the casting and compositions, it never feels all that exciting. Unnecessary and dull, Nouvelle Vague is a misfire, and a film that simply did not need to be made, especially when this is the final product.