Vivre sa vie: Film en douze tableaux (1962)

Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard | 80 minutes | drama | Actors: Sady Rebbot, Anna Karina, André S. Labarthe, Guylaine Schlumberger, Gérard Hoffman, Monique Messine, Paul Pavel, Dimitri Dineff, Peter Kassovitz, Eric Schlumberger, Brice Parain, Henri Attal, Gilles Quéant

The Godard classic ‘Vivre sa vie’ (1962) is perhaps best viewed today as a love letter to Godard’s then-wife Anna Karina. The then very young Anna plays Nana, a young woman who aspires to a career as an actress, but ends up as a prostitute. Godard makes his wife look like the legendary actress Louise Brooks of the 1920s and 1930s, with her short haircut and tight bangs. Nana looks meek and gloomy, and seems to have walked straight out of a silent film and ended up in Paris in the sixties. And just as Louise Brooks fell into disgrace because of the shocking theme of her films at the time, things don’t end well for Nana either, she literally ends up in the gutter.

With a few exceptions, it is Nana that we always see pontifically in the picture, and often very close to the skin, as in the opening scenes in which we see her head for minutes first from the left, then from the front, from the right and finally from behind. Just as Nana is prostituted by her pimp, Anna Karina is subjected to the eager gaze of the public by Godard. And as if she knows she’s being watched by us, she looks straight into the camera twice, deliberately breaking the fourth wall.

‘Vivre sa vie’ is special because of Anna Karina, and also special because of the unconventional camerawork. The heavy Mitchell camera is actually the second protagonist (and is even mentioned in the opening credits): a silent and fickle character who turns away in the middle of a dialogue to fix his gaze on something else. Or can’t stand still and constantly shifts perspective impatiently. The use of this heavy Mitchell camera went against the trend of the documentary-style Cinéma Vérité, where portable cameras were preferred. In ‘Vivre sa vie’, on the other hand, the camera moves stately, distantly, and with a certain aplomb.

Despite the heavy theme, this gives Nana’s downfall something ethereal. It is not without reason that Godard lets Nana watch Jeanne d’Arc in ‘La passion de Jeanne d’Arc’ (1928), who is similarly plunged into disaster by evil male hands, but defies her fate in a religious intoxication.

Stylistically, ‘Vivre sa vie’ is not always balanced. In addition, the dialogues sometimes feel a bit dated. The scene in which philosopher Brice Parain contrasts an argument about language with Nana was completely in line with the zeitgeist at the time, but now seems a bit forced. Just in that scene Nana looks straight into the camera again, and we get the feeling that she feels the same way.

While Nana is abandoned by everyone, Godard asks the viewer to fall a little in love with his vulnerable, chain-smoking character, and for those who succeed, ‘Vivre sa vie’ is at its best.