Godard Mon Amour (2017)

Godard Mon Amour is a breezy, witty peek behind the curtain of French New Wave mythmaking, less a reverent biopic than a playful, human-scale portrait of genius in motion. It captures the heady 1967 atmosphere—cigarette smoke, political fervor, and artistic ego—while keeping things surprisingly approachable, with a whimsical tone that lets the romance and comedy breathe. As it goes on, the film grows more insightful, finding tenderness and contradiction in Godard’s persona without turning him into a saint or a monster. If you’re allergic to talky, self-aware French cinema, it may test your patience, but if you like your dramas smart, lightly satirical, and a little mischievous, it’s an engaging ride.

Godard Mon Amour wants to be a witty, affectionate peek behind the curtain of a legendary director’s romance and ego during a politically charged moment, with the energy of a clever French farce. The problem is that it often mistakes smugness for insight, turning Godard into a repetitive caricature and the relationship into a string of scenes that feel more like a lecture than a lived-in love story. If you’re not already fascinated by Godard, 1960s cinephile in-jokes, or intentionally abrasive character portraits, this can come off as pretentious and oddly empty rather than illuminating. Still, there are flashes of charm in the period detail and performances, so if you enjoy satire that pokes at artistic self-importance, you might find it tolerable—even if it rarely lands the punchline.