WasAnnon Slow pace in the most part of the movie.

Beystiman It's fun, it's light, [but] it has a hard time when its tries to get heavy.

Griff Lees Very good movie overall, highly recommended. Most of the negative reviews don't have any merit and are all pollitically based. Give this movie a chance at least, and it might give you a different perspective.

Roman Sampson One of the most extraordinary films you will see this year. Take that as you want.

JohnHowardReid Two or three very good jokes (the scene in which Belmondo is accosted by a creditor and they end up hurling insults at each other as they cross the road in different directions, and the sequence in which so many people bludge a light off Belmondo's cigarette, he ends up with an unsmokable stub) and a very promising opening give little indication of the seemingly endless dreariness to come when Jean-Claude Brialy cycles on to the scene and the characters settle down to a boring array of routine recriminations in the one dreary set. It looks like the producer was unable to afford only two indoor sets. Admittedly, the director has tried to circumvent the shortage with a bit of location work, but this is neither skillfully chosen nor cleverly employed. Worse still, the obviously hand-held camera wobbles to an incredible degree. No doubt, a lot of this was done deliberately in order to disguise the ineptness of the direction and the lack of francs in the producer's pocket. But there was really no need for this display of deliberate ineptitude. The rest of the movie in itself provides evidence enough. And to make matters worse, Anna Karina acts like a wet rag, nothing like the delightfully animated personality she unveiled in "She'll Have To Go".

Scarecrow-88 Charmer from Jean-Luc Godard stars a very appealing Anna Karina as an exotic dancer, Angela, wanting a child from her store owner boyfriend, Émile Récamier (Jean-Claude Brialy). Émile, however, isn't particularly interested in a child or marriage, but just keeping their relationship as it is currently. Angela begins to ponder moving on from Émile in favor of her ne'er-do-well friend, Alfred Lubitsch (French New Wave icon, Jean-Paul Belmondo). A ditsy love triangle develops but it never rises to anything all that melodramatic as Godard keeps the tone light and fluffy. Still, Godard incorporates intertitles, editing techniques, camera pans (two such instances has the camera doing a complete turn to the right and left inside the little apartment Angela and Émile share), ebbs and flows in the musical scoring (to emphasize the playful banter and antics that poke fun at each other that exists between Angela and Émile) in order to give his film a sense of unpredictable and off-the-cuff style that isn't what you normally see in a romantic comedy. There's even a bit of a sing-songy method in how Angela addresses Émile at times when they do this back-and-forth « sizing each other up » flirty (and purposely antagonistic in a less imposing as much as mischievous way) dialogue in regards to topics that range from the aforementioned child talk to « what's for supper ». It fits neatly into the French New Wave era with its use of Parisian locations (Godard even « goes crazy » by shooting actual people just trafficking through while Angela convinces a discarded Communist to join a exotic dancing establishment). Jeanne Moreau even cameos for Godard in a conversation with Belmondo about her film, Jules et Jim ! Another scene has Angela talking with a friend about Shoot the Piano Player, done in a type of kidding form of charades. Respect like that is often added to films of Godard's for Truffaut. The « presentation in Eastman color » and the « use of Cinemascope » seems to indicate that Godard, along with several of his contemporaries working at that time, was reaching a significance as a filmmaker…a prominence. But Karina's enchanting presence and bewitching beauty is so captivating, his techniques are only enhanced because she is in his film. Belmondo has one of those archetypes that worms his way out of paying debts, a hanger-on slacker who just so happens to have enough charisma, clever wit, and sense of humor to get by. Karina knows he's not for her, but even considering him as a suitor (he tells her he loves her) is an indication that Brialy is failing her. Of course emerging with « I want a baby » out of the blue does kind of serve as a surprise. The couple have a way of provoking each other. A particularly memorable couple of scenes has them using the titles from books on their shelves to communicate how they feel using a lamp light to guide their way through the apartment and a source to emanate the exact words meant to provoke reaction. I think A Woman is a Woman is a showcase for Karina's lighter side and the whole film is presented in a manner that doesn't attempt to cause us to look much deeper than the surface ; except perhaps once scene where Karina, when listening to a jukebox song chosen by Belmondo, attentively understands what Braily means to her, and another that has Belmondo mentioning a newspaper article regarding a love triangle and two letters sent to two lovers by a woman. I think after you watch enough Godard, if you don't like "dialogue movies" then perhaps he isn't for you. The camera, as always did, adores Karina. Photogenic doesn't even begin to describe how she lights up a screen. To kind of give you an idea of where the couple is in their relationship, Braily refers to Karina affectionately "pet".

Graham Greene For me, Godard is easily the greatest living filmmaker; the most radical and revolutionary, one of the few director's whose work is so defiant, unique and idiosyncratic that he can go without credit on some of his greatest films - Weekend (1967) and Hélas pour moi (1993) to name just two - and yet, the work is always distinctive, exciting and immediately identifiable. Une femme est une femme (1961) was Godard's first film in colour and also his first in cinema scope, and he uses both of these devises to the fullest of their capabilities. As a result, it is one of the most important films of his career, sowing the seeds of creativity that would give way to later films like Le Mepris (1963), Pierrot le fou (1965) and La Chinoise (1967), and in the process creating a unique and entertaining film that rewards repeated viewings, whilst simultaneously remaining true to the filmmaker's progressive, cinematic intent. Like much of Godard's earlier work, the preoccupations here are almost entirely referential. He's still trying to revolutionise the format somewhat - playing with codes and conventions, simplifying character and narrative to an almost ironic degree and creating the drama from an accumulation of scenes - but there is also something more playful going on alongside a genuine love of cinema that is all too often overshadowed by the cynicism in his more recent work, such as Slow Motion (1980) and the underrated In Praise of Love (2001).At first glance, the story of Une femme est une femme would seem to be incredibly sweet; a play on relationship difficulties and notions of love, honour and friendship wrapped up in the eternal battle of the sexes in a way that makes for great, light-hearted farce. However, on closer inspection, the giddy production design and typically imaginative use of mise-en-scene seem to be presenting a number of abstractions that draw our eye away from the deeper themes behind the film and the characters that are introduced. Like Jean Pierre Jeunet's Amélie (2001), the colourful format and child-like games being played by both character and filmmaker alike seem to be hiding darker notions that point towards ideas of loneliness, emasculation and dissatisfaction. With this in mind, we must ask ourselves if Godard's playful references and elements of sardonic pastiche are intended to be seen as something chic, or are they instead more in tune with the escapism presented by a film like Lars von Trier's Dancer in the Dark (2000), in which musical sequences and the air of American melodrama is used as an exit point for the hopelessness of the central character.With this interpretation it is important to look at the character of Angela, a strip-club artist in a tempestuous relationship with the cold and chauvinistic Emile. Angela delights in playing games with Emile and with the audience as well; acting out her existence as if trapped between the continually juxtaposing worlds of the sitcom and the Hollywood musical as a desperate attempt to derive a simple sense of pleasure from a life that seems entirely joyless. She believes her relationship with Emile can be salvaged by the birth of a child, but when Emile seems unwilling and unaccommodating she turns to his best friend Alfred and begins yet another duplicitous game between the two. This throws something of a shadow over the character of Angela, her name itself creating an ironic juxtaposition as she plays the two men off against each other in an attempt to get what she wants. These issues would appear in subsequent Godard films, from Vivre sa vie (1962) to Slow Motion, with the depiction of women as performers, and indeed, women as prostitutes, seemingly allowing themselves to be put-upon in an attempt to get what they really want. Unsurprisingly, these are serious themes and issues with real dramatic weight that could, in the hands of a lesser filmmaker, have been used to mine a path of social-realist melodrama. Godard is more shrewd than that and presents the film as a carefree farce that is continually undercut by the distancing and distracting use of both audio and visual experimentation.Despite the darker and more despairing thematic issues presented by the script, the tone of the film and the central performance from Anna Karina as Angela is undoubtedly bubbly, with its vibrant conversations, imaginative use of role playing and blithe musical interludes. However, the film is still reliant on Godard's iconic use of early deconstructive elements, with jarring and dissonant bursts of music, random jump cuts, provocative inter-titles filled with sardonic wit and devious puns, and the appropriation of numerous genre characteristics and stylistic cross-references to offset the story at its most basic level. Regardless of such personal interpretations, the film works just as well if taken at face value, with the boundless energy and imagination of Godard and his crew, the playful references to Truffaut and the relationship between the burgeoning French New Wave and its roots in Hollywood B-pictures, and the fantastic performances from Karina, Jean-Claude Brialy and Jean-Paul Belmondo.Without question, Une femme est une femme could be seen as Godard's first true masterpiece. It is funny, witty, clever and insightful - filled with imaginative vignettes and the infectious sense of joie de vivre that only great film-making can present - whilst beneath the surface we find all manner of hidden depths and avenues of interpretation that remind us of the filmmaker's particular sense of genius. Regardless of your interpretation, the final moments of Une femme est une femme, with that devilish last line, visual pun and wink to the camera is a masterstroke from Godard; one that works within the context of the film as a frothy attempt at jovial farce, whilst simultaneously reinforcing the darker side of Angela's character and the empty life that she leads. As the character herself proclaims halfway through; "I don't know if this is comedy or tragedy... but it is a masterpiece".

Dennis Littrell Godard is beginning to grow on me. Maybe it's because I'm watching his films from the sixties, made when I was a teenager in France, and the nostalgia appeals to me. Maybe it's because his work seems free and easy, uncontrived, almost amateurish compared to some other famous film makers. Or maybe it's just that I like this particular pretty girl he features.She is pretty, gangly Anna Karina starring as Angela, an exotic dancer who is madly in love and wants to have a baby. Godard has a lot of fun with her, encouraging her to mug for the camera, getting her to do movements that cause her to trip and look not just gangly and very young like a pre-adolescent, but even clumsy--and then to leave the shots in the film, probably telling her, "This is a comedy. You need to be not just beautiful, but funny, warm, vulnerable." Karina does manage a lot of vulnerability. Her exotic act including her singing is...well, there are usually only a handful of customers in the joint and so her skills are probably appropriately remunerated. Again this is intentional since Godard wants her to be just an ordinary girl without any great talent, someone with whom the girls in the audience can identify. But the irony is that the girl must needs be at least pretty. Karina is more than pretty. She is exquisite with her long shapely limbs and her gorgeous countenance.One of the compelling nostalgic elements is the way women did their eyes in the sixties: so, so overdone! Although I thought that look was oh so sexy then, today I would like to clean the blue, blue--or is it purple?--eye shadow and the black, black mascara off of Karina's face and see her au naturel! But it is the sixties in Paris--Gay Paree, Paris in the Spring, the City of Light! Well, 1960 to be exact, which really is more like the fifties than the sixties if you know what I mean. Everything is so innocent, Ike still in the American White House, De Gaulle the triumphant hero of France. Algeria and Vietnam completely offstage of course--this is a romantic comedy. The German occupation, the horrific world war and its aftermath are distant memories for Angela and her friends who were only children then. Life is young, the girls are pretty, the boys are cute, prosperity is upon them. It's Godard's Paris. Life is playful. Life is fun. You tease and you have no real worries. The Cold War is of no concern. The 100,000 or so American troops still stationed in France to support the troops in Germany are not seen. But Godard's love affair with the mass American culture is there in little asides and jokes. Emile or Alfred (I forget which) asks Angela what she would like to hear on the jukebox. "Istsy-bitsy bikini," he offers. No. She wants Charles Aznavour. She wants romance and an adult love that leads to marriage and maternity.Angela's beloved is Emile played with a studied forbearance by an eternally youthful Jean-Claude Brialy. He doesn't want to father a baby, at least not yet. She pouts, she makes faces, she threatens, she burns the roast and drops the eggs, she crosses her arms, and she gives him the silent treatment. It doesn't work. He prefers to read the Worker's Daily. Ah, but will Alfred (Jean-Paul Belmondo, who seems intent on out boyish-ing Brialy) pull himself away from TV reruns of "Breathless" to do the job? Will she let him? Is Emile really so indifferent as to allow his friend carnal knowledge of his girlfriend? Is this a kind of threesome, a prelude to a menage a trois? Watch for a shot of Jeanne Moreau being asked how Truffaut's film Jules et Jim (1962) which she was working on at the time, is coming along, a kind of cinematic insider jest that Godard liked to include in his films. She gives a one word reply, "Moderato." See this for Anna Karina, and see her also in Godard's Band of Outsiders (1964) in which she looks even more teenager-ish than she does here. She is not a great actress, but she is wondrously directed by Godard who was then her husband.(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)