Band of Outsiders/Bande à part (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964): France

Reviewed by Nitsa Pomerleau. Viewed on DVD.

What could I say? “A few words chosen at random… Three weeks earlier. A pile of money. An English class. A house by the river. A romantic girl” Godard’s overture. Anna Karina. Michel Legrand’s “final” score. The film came out before Bonnie and Clyde was made. Before Stranger than Paradise. Before Quentin Tarantino could speak. Band of Outsiders is Godard’s deviation from the dark decadence of Contempt, his return to black and white, to three robber-romantics in the outskirts of Paris, and is a joy to behold.

Fitting its genre, Band of Outsiders steals from American B-films and Dolores Hitchens’ novel Fool’s Gold . Our gangsters are two restless young men: the macho Arthur (Claude Brasseur) and his Kafka-inspired partner-in-crime Franz (Sami Frey). The duo becomes a trio when the men charm the naïve Odile (a role which satiates our fantasy for the Virgin Anna Karina) into a plot to rob her own house.  In accordance with tradition, the trio becomes a love triangle, with Odile falling for Arthur, and Franz for Odile, and they have to steal the money soon or else… the story is familiar. Except— it is Godard.

The director’s intimate poetic narration (he uses his own voice) and light disregard for the narrative brings everything that is occurring at the surface to an exaggerated pretend-reality. Arthur and Franz suddenly act out the death of Billy the Kid and we hold our breath…. Odile breaks convention and looks straight into the camera to ask “Un plan? Pourquoi’?  (A plan? Why?) A robbery is delayed until nightfall, “in keeping with the tradition of bad B-films” and the three veer off to race through the Louvre in a record-breaking nine minutes and 45 seconds…  The viewer capers along with them in good humor, regardless of plot coherence or convention— the tone of emotionally-dense yet playful ambiguity is enough.

But for all its insouciance, Band of Outsiders is not invulnerable to gravity. The “Minute of Silence” (which Godard in his nature shortens to 40 seconds or so) is a surprisingly precious scene during which the three cease conversation, almost all sound is cut, and the film drops into a contemplative tone.  When the trio assembles in a café to perform the awkwardly lyrical dance of “The Madison”—we sense the isolation in companionship hinted at in the title. Equally poignant is how cinematographer Raoul Cotard captures the French Suburbs and a pre-war melancholia in the overcast sky, polluted rivers, and town life. And then there is Karina and her delicate portrayal of Odile’s looming disillusionment (as director and husband, Godard lets the camera linger).

In my praise of Band of Outsiders, I must note the franchise surrounding it: clothing labels,  rock bands, Tarantino’s production company…  in an ironic arc this picture  (and Nouvelle Vague in general) has become integral to American culture—but that’s a good thing, right?

Either way, a disgruntled possessive viewer born long after the theatrical release is a sign of a good film. And if you get the Criterion Collection release of this DVD, it even has an after-party . Included in the special features is the “Visual Glossary,”an excellent guide to picking up Godard’s layers upon layers upon layers of details, wordplay, and references.  Also recommended is Agnès Varda’s silent comedy, Les Fiances du Pont Mac Donald, which stars ze master himself: Jean-Luc Godard.