Vinz hangs out with Hubert (Koundé) and Saïd (Taghmaoui). Twenty-four hours in the Paris projects: an Arab boy is critically wounded in hospital, gut-shot, and a police revolver has found its way into the hands of a young Jewish skinhead, Vinz (Cassel), who vows to even the score if his pal dies. This is a wild-eyed cross-processing of artistic, political and personal concerns, with a story that stutters, splinters and infuriates its way to an explosive finale. As their relationship begins to fray, it all goes horribly wrong. They converse in disjointed, inhumanly droll patter, duff up gas station attendants and eagerly concoct a new civilisation on a deserted beach. They head to the south of France in a hail of gunfire and Gauloises. We’re launched into the lunatic orbit of Belmondo’s Ferdinand and Anna Karina’s Marianne: Each is an impulsive, alienated, despairing soul who finds solace in the other’s desire for chaos and withdrawal. In one word: Emotions.’ His succinct and, let’s be honest, utterly hip rejoinder fluently captures what we’re about to undergo with Godard’s mischievous tenth film, ‘Pierrot le Fou’. Fuller replies: ‘Film is like a battleground.
Jean-Paul Belmondo mooches up to Samuel Fuller at a party and, naturally, asks him his thoughts on cinema. In the leading role, Dutronc displays a physical frailty and stooped sadness that complements Pialat’s beautiful, poignant images. There’s no attempt to trace the origins and development of his ‘creative genius’ nor, avoiding the hazards of biopic cliché, does it seek to illuminate these dark corners of his subject’s troubled soul. However, his ill health, a brief return to the debauchery of brothels and drink, and his irrational resentment of his brother Theo’s failure to sell his work, provoke erratic swings from brooding introspection to frustrated anger. Living in Auvers-sur-Oise with his sensitive and knowledgeable patron Gachet (Sety), van Gogh (Dutronc) works quietly and steadily, meanwhile flirting with Gachet’s precocious daughter Marguerite (London). This stunningly photographed and skilfully acted film uses an accretion of naturalistic detail to present an emotionally restrained but utterly compelling account of the last three months of van Gogh’s life.
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