Introduction to the French Avant Garde: Part I

JE TU IL ELLE (1974) (C+) - The debut feature from Chantal Akerman combines twee navel-gazing with a classic '70s road movie.

Akerman draws out random moments in the life of the lead character, Julie, who is at various times working out some relationship issues. Set out in three acts, the film opens with Julie penning an epic letter while hanging out in a small room stripped of all of its furniture except for a mattress. We watch her stare out the sliding glass door and strip off her clothes. We watch as she tediously organizes the pages of her letter. She takes a bag of sugar and eats heaping spoonfuls from it.

After a half hour of gloom, she escapes her self-made prison and catches a ride with a truck driver (Niels Arestrup), a numbingly married horn-dog with no name. He bitches about the wife and kids. They hang out at bars not talking to each other. In a truck-stop bathroom, she watches him shave and then take a piss. He combs his hair. AND scene.

Off she goes in the final half hour to the home of her former lover (Claire Wauthion, listed in the credits as Girlfriend). Girlfriend feeds her Nutella sandwiches for a while, washed down with a little wine. Suddenly (well, relatively) Julie makes a move, and the women wind up writhing in bed. The black-and-white film brightens noticeably, as their pale white bodies grope each other on white sheets. They make out, rather aggressively, totally naked for about 12 minutes, including some rather graphic positions. (Did it inspire a similar scene in the middle of "Blue Is the Warmest Color"?) A French children's song plays over the spare final credits.

Akerman's movie is somehow more compelling than it has every right to be. I don't think it's a sin to fast-forward through some of it. The middle act provides some much-needed oxygen, and the truck driver's monologue, with some real-time sports radio playing in the background, gives this a documentary feel that recalls 1967's "David Holzman's Diary," another break-up self-doc (and which is streaming on Vimeo). And the final love scene is not only elegantly shot, but it has a brashness that can still take you aback 42 years later.


This film is streaming on YouTube sans subtitles.