One of my favorite scenes in in Vivre Sa Vi is the record store scene that begins about 9 minutes and 21 seconds into the film. The scene last for approximately 3 minutes and is done in a long take, making use of a dynamic dollying and panning around the store. To me, this scene comes across as a hybrid of rehearsed / open filmmaking. It is an example of how Godard’s work being mechanically complex and not just conceptually. In fact, everything comes across as planned with the exception of how the scene ends when the camera pans to a shot looking outside of the window of the record store.
I also like the examples of Distanciation scene in the film, such as when the repetition of lines, or “pick ups” left in the film, which Morrey points out. I think what is enjoyable is how Godard plays with Narrative fiction/non-fiction. There is a definitely a Brectian influence, certain scenes allow the spectator to get caught up in the narrative, just never for too long. The film allows the audience to get sucked in to the conflict or Nana’s finacial burden and her entering prostitution but repeatedly pulls them back, never allowing for complete identification with the character. This method could be viewed as a way to allow the audience to connect with how capitalism essentially traps them in their own decision making, and as a way to avoid the spectator seeing the negative side of capitalism solely through the scope of Nana’s specific situation and problem.
(From: December 12th, 2011 By: Joe V.)
What Joe hits upon in his post regarding the record store scene in Vivre Sa Vie is the element of chance in Godard’s films. Indeed when the camera, toward the end of the take, pans to the window looking out onto the street, what and who Godard films is all left up to chance. This element of chance is felt in nearly all of his early 60’s films, not just in what Godard captures in the frame but in his pop culture references and use of music, too. This whimsy turns some viewers off. For these viewers, Godard’s reliance on chance feels like sloppy imprecise filmmaking. Or so I’ve been told. Indeed, one friend told me the deluge of Godard’s references in Pierrot le Fou felt haphazard. As if on another day of writing and filming Godard could have just as easily tipped his hat to a Jerry Lewis film than one by Joseph H. Lewis. Perhaps this is true. But for me, Godard gets interesting when he blurs the boundary between chance and directorial control. For example, upon watching the title sequence of Pierrot le Fou for the first time, it seems as if the letters appear on the screen at random. Yet on further reflection it should become clear that the letters do not appear on the screen at random, but in alphabetical order they reveal the film’s title as well as the actors’ names. This is typical Godard: when you think you are witnessing chance you are witnessing order, and most likely there are times when you think you are witnessing order and you are really a witness to chance.