Reviewed by Glenn Erickson
I know more than a few sci fi addicts who've been excited to catch up with Alphaville, only
to be gravely disappointed when confronted with their first hardcore Jean-Luc Godard movie. Compared
to a commercial product, Alphaville is woefully underproduced and slipshod-looking - at
first glance only. I was fascinated by this gray comic strip film as a teenager, when I read and reread
its published script numerous times before catching up with it at a midnight show in Westwood.
Savant's in no position to start interpreting the 'art' of Jean-Luc Godard, but because it uses
familiar pulp movie icons as a springboard for his poetic mode of expression,
Alphaville gave me the beginnings of an understanding of the idiosyncratic French director.
Following in the footsteps of previous failures Dick Tracy and Flash Gordon, secret agent
Lemmy Caution (Eddie Constantine) arrives in Alphaville, a technocracy ruled by a gravel-voiced
central computer called Alpha-60, which has regimented humans into strict classes and split the
city into zones of night and day, cold and warmth. Alpha-60 is also preparing to conquer the rest of the
world - Nueva York, Tokyorama - and hold all under its cold eye of logic. Lemmy contacts his immediate
predecessor, Henry Dickson, who has become a hopeless drunk in a seedy hotel; Dickson puts
him on to Professor Von Braun, aka defector Leonard Nosferatu (horror icon Howard Vernon), the brains behind
the superbrain Alpha 60. Lemmy finds himself embroiled in a weird romance with Natasha Von Braun,
the mastermind's daughter (Anna Karina) and plays semantic games when interrogated by the all-controlling
computer. But when he's had enough, he lashes out with the power of poetry and a .45 auto, and
singlehandedly brings Alphaville to its knees.
Jean-Luc Godard's genre movies are intellectual, jokey meditations that use films as a springboard for
his free-associative, political ideas. They go beyond being
self-referential, spoofy, camp, or any of the 'in' 60s ways of transcending their material,
by simply laying wide open the structural underpinnings of films, especially genre films. In A Woman is A
Woman, Godard has his actors sing non-songs and dance non-dances to show that, for him, a Musical is a
matter of spirit than of performance. It gets pretty weird when the picture jumps between held poses
imitating Gene Kelly stills, as if to indicate, 'place boffo dance number here'. Godard uses the same gag
when it comes time to stage a 'dynamic fight scene' for Alphaville - we merely cut to the fighters
in extreme poses, patiently holding still. Naturally, he loses a majority of the general audience
right then and there - Alphaville was a mini-release art film for festivals and the expresso set.
Godard constructs his movies like unrepentant beat poetry - all of his films have ragged intertitles
arbitrarily inserting bald political messages, sometimes frustratingly obvious ones. In Alphaville,
the screen is constantly being seized by neon signs, drawings, traffic signals, etc. Here they seem to
signify the aura of the ever-present Alpha-60 computer, who is represented visually by whirring fans and
crude flashing lights, accompanied by telegraph noises. The voice of Alpha-60, as has been pointed out, is
a 'dead voice' made by a man with no voicebox, who's learned to croak artificially.
Godard doesn't try to compensate for a lack of traditional production values, but instead flaunts his
budget 'weaknesses' by declaring them irrelevant. There're no special effects
except for flashing to negative every once in awhile - to perhaps 'express' the malfunctioning of
Alpha-60?. Raoul Coutard's handheld photography is actually very smooth, even beautiful. There
are a number of well-shot scenes, that contrast with setups as crude as anything in a no-budget
exploitation movie. It's the artistic tone of Godard's film that says, 'I'm trying to
express myself here, this is jazz. Read between the images - it's not my job to put a perfect phony
image in front of your faces at all times.'
Godard's theme is a powerful one, poetry versus the inhuman computer future. A production title
considered was Tarzan versus IBM. With the SuperSpy subgenre getting into swing, the timing
was perfect to create a patchwork film made of pieces of genre conventions. Expatriate American
GI-turned French movie star Eddie Constantine and
his Lemmy Caution character were an established tough guy convention, so Godard co-opted them. What
we see and what we hear are at constant odds with one another: Caution's trip through intersidereal
space in his 'galaxie' is a simply him arriving by freeway in a late-model American Mustang. We see
some industrial installations standing in for the main works of Alpha-60, and the interrogation
rooms look like ordinary recording booths. The futuristic city of Alphaville is suggested simply by
showing the modern structures of 1965 Paris, which Godard implies are already architecturally inhuman.
Caution carries a big gun, like any two-fisted hero, but his only gadget is a pitiful instamatic camera,
a mass-produced piece of junk with a flashcube on top, that took low-quality photos through a
crummy cheap lens.
The poetry is at the center of the story. Books are disappearing,
along with individual words in the dictionaries, which are replaced daily as more words and their
underlying concepts are eliminated. Natasha Von Braun, beautifully played by Anna Karina, doesn't
recognize the word 'tenderness' and has forgotten what it means. It's a poetic conceit (like the
whole show) but it has teeth - our culture seems to 'forget' concepts and the words that go with
them, and only individuals keep them alive.
The condemned dreamers of Alphaville are murdered in an indoor pool execution
chamber, during a ritual that combines Nazi slaughter with an Esther Williams-style aquacade. As each
victim dies, they shout out their last words. One of them talks about moving straight toward one's goal,
instead of in circles, a theme which echoes throughout Alphaville - the circles are there
in the computer's logic, in the circular stairways, everywhere, to entrap the individual. 'Going in circles',
is the activity of the inhabitants of this 'Nowheresville' - pointless circles because Alpha-60 has taken
the meaning from their lives. In contrast, Lemmy caution beelines his way straight to the things he loves,
and straight to confront his enemies.
Alphaville is the Capital of Pain, as seen in the title of a Paul Éluard book in Natasha's hand. But
Alphaville is also intensely romantic. Lemmy Caution has Humphrey Bogart's sentimental toughness ("not
bad for a veteran of Guadalcanal") and his pockmarked face, with its sad, dead eyes, is a repository for the
conscience of the world.
He acts the tough guy around Natasha, but they share a 'poetic duet' played out in
his mundane hotel room, with its jukebox and darkened salon. Lemmy and Natasha pose before a mirror, as the
camera exposure racks up and down, the light erasing the textures of their skin, and darkening into
murk, and then coming back up again. The actual words of the love poem are beautiful in both French and
English - and include more references to 'going straight to what you love'. 1
Lemmy Caution is the ultimate secret agent, a vengeful angel. "Reporter and Revenger start with the same
letter", he deadpans. There's enough evidence of totalitarian evil in Alphaville to prompt him to
destroy the whole place without batting an eye. Naturally, every other agent has failed, including
several well-known comic strip heroes. The bad guys beat him up (at one point they get the better of
him by using a verbal joke - words are all-powerful in Godard's world), try to buy him off (coldfish
Professor Von Braun offers him his own private dictatorship), and pit him against the unbeatable logic
of Alpha-60's circuits. But Lemmy answers the computer's questions with poetry that 'doesn't compute',
and finally poses a verbal enigma to the haughty proto-HAL that initiates a processing meltdown. Because
Alpha-60 keeps central control of everything in its technological empire, the whole system collapses,
from the vast power centers to the individual 'citizens' who used to be people. 2
Caution mainly goes this way in that in this 'dark city of the imagination', ignoring instructions to report
for interrogation and bulling his way where he's not wanted. The details provide context and humor. His
cover identity, Ivan Johnson of the paper Figaro-Pravda, indicates how our present-day world has been
rearranged into a new pattern. The nonsensical class that Natasha attends discusses mind-control and mass
murder as acceptable activities. Ever in contempt of his high-toned surroundings, Lemmy shines his shoes on
the carpeted steps of his hotel, and shuns the number-tattooed prostitutes that appear whenever he approaches
his room. 3
Two scientists called Heckle and Jeckyll (played by a pair of film critics) labor in a think tank, staring
at a pretty girl in a trenchcoat. Another female stands naked, living statue 'working' behind glass near a
well-travelled stairway. A vending machine is a nasty joke on the concept of politeness. Lemmy pushes his way
past turnkeys and guards, finally cutting loose in action that parodies commercially recognizable scenes of
violence. He bursts through a door, lets several thugs have it, and we know he's as potent as any mainstream
secret agent man. When he catches up with the monstrous Von Braun, he does his talking via more pulp poetry,
and lets his gun finish up. A voiceover epitaph for the tyrant is read over a grim shot of Lemmy lighting a
cigarette: "Let this be a lesson to all those who would take the world for their private hobby horse."
At the conclusion, Godard brings in imagery from every kind of source. "La Zone" of Cocteau is
revived in the lost, unbalanced way the 'ant' citizens of Alphaville stagger down hallways after their
central control self-destructs. Alpha-60 has removed their souls, and now they're without
an interior compass, cut off from gravity. Natasha flops around like a rag doll until Lemmy becomes
her source of stability. As Alphaville burns and explodes around them (just a voiceover reference) they
escape into outer space (the freeway again). The Misraki music becomes transcendant, as Lemmy helps
Natasha remember the concept of 'Love'. It's intensely romantic, with the pulpy notion that if he can
make her say the word, if she can remember what it means, the concept of Love can return. SuperSpy movies
are mostly dumb exploitative spectacles that have resonance because they play with pulp culture ideas,
usually ignorantly. Jean-Luc Godard knows the magic that revolves around poetry and pulp, and animates
every minute of Alphaville with this kind of liberating imagination.
Criterion's DVD of Alphaville is a very good rendition of the film, as good as the theatrical prints
I've seen and far better than the awful dubbed and mangled messes shown on television before. It's flat
1:33, which looks appropriate, although I'm sure my 35mm screenings were wider. The encoding is fine enough
to pick out subtle differences in grain and filmstock, and the source film looks to be undamaged.
There are no extras, but Andrew Sarris' short liner notes effortlessly sum up the charm and significance of
the film. The artsy cover art does the show no favors in the marketing sector, but anyone after Alphaville
would track it down in a brown wrapper - travelling in a straight line, of course.
On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor,
Packaging: Amaray case
Reviewed: July 6, 2002
1. I recommend watching the sequence several times, a couple to think about
the English translation of the poetry in the subtitles, and then a couple times more without subs
to enjoy the way the unencumbered visuals play against the French words. It's wonderful. If it doesn't
appeal to you, you'll know not to try any more Jean-Luc Godard films.
2. This is the overused gag cliche found in dozens of sci fi telefilms,
from Star Trek to The Prisoner, with glib heroes talking their way to victory against
constipated computers. Dark Star finally broke the pattern, with its talking bomb that listens
arguments but makes up its own damn mind, thank you.
3. Released in the same year, Alphaville and
Our Man Flint are practically the same story,
with females reduced to pleasure units, a benign scientific dictatorship and a hero sworn to destroy it all.
DVD Savant Text © Copyright 2002 Glenn Erickson
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