A review of Pierrot le Fou
Pierrot le Fou was released in 1965, directed by Jean-Luc Godard and loosely based on the book Obsession by Lionel White. The movie begins with Ferdinand, a husband and father bored of his life. He reads tales of adventure and philosophy to his daughter and longs for more.
Marianne babysits his children while Ferdinand and his wife go out to a party. When Ferdinand arrives back early from the event, Marianne sweeps Ferdinand away from his boredom as she runs from an Algerian paramilitary organization. You can never quite tell where either of the character’s minds are. Does Ferdinand truly love Marianne, or does he just love the adventure? Does Marianne truly love Ferdinand, or is she just using him to escape the hitmen chasing her down?
Half the time you can’t really make sense of the movie’s wacky, violent absurdity. In one scene, Marianne hops out of a stolen Ford Galaxie to hide old clothes as her lover turns the car around. In the next, they are driving the expensive convertible into an ocean. It seems that every action taken is done on a whim, though everything has its own intention.
Contrasted with the physical actions that the characters take, director Jean-Luc Godard takes his viewers into the emotional trials and tribulations of romance on the run. Ferdinand wants to read; Marianne wants to listen to music. Ferdinand doesn’t care for Marianne’s singing; Marianne doesn’t care for Ferdinand’s writing. She calls him Pierrot—a nickname meaning “sad clown”—throughout the movie, though Ferdinand consistently reminds her of his true name.
Marianne and Ferdinand are romantics, but everything they do clashes. They are both soulmates and born enemies. They both believe that their actions are correct but worry about the other’s intentions. Marianne asks repeatedly if Ferdinand loves her. Ferdinand expresses no worry for Marianne’s affections but worships her with compliments and actions. Whatever Marianne asks of him, he does.
The viewer soon realizes that though Marianne appears to be enamored with Ferdinand, it is Ferdinand who is truly le fou, or the fool. His lover has strung him along on her own adventure, using his love to escape a life on the run. The viewer is left wondering: Did Marianne ever truly love Ferdinand, or was it all a lie? or, was she in love with him all along and chose freedom over Ferdinand?
Though Pierrot le Fou is nearly 60 years old its sentiments still hold true. In the twenty-first century we are still falling blindly and passionately in love. Even more relevant is an urge to escape the normal, to leave American societal expectations behind and find adventure. We all want to play the fool; to paint our faces and bodies and leap into the unknown with someone we hold dear. It is never enough when we are alone—we must fall headfirst in love as well.