Day for Night

I don't know if this is a funny observation of style or a comment on my own laziness, but, with the notable exception of Pierrot le fou (always in the mood for a very long party in sappy reds), I either by some Catholic alchemy of guilt have to force myself to watch Godard on principle or yield to the odd exuberant impulse and let it ride, come Lenny Caution or pimp Odysseus. I can never just sit down and watch his stuff. Whether by bondage of the spirit or by the body's riot, I have to prepare for it. It's always work.

Truffaut is so pleasant and light by contrast. His movies can be watched as well as studied, and while in my pedantic, know-nothing youth I thought that made him common and dangerous, as I age I find Godard's incessant anarchism and interchangeable ideologies shallow and adolescent. Children play at destroying life; those who have gained some wisdom by it savor its creation. Whatever he does, Truffaut takes care to notice and appreciate the pleasures of experience. Now that I'm older, I see that his concern for small mercy and tall delight makes his work more than a voluptuary exercise; it's a philosophy of life, and a wise one at that.

Not that I dislike Godard or think him ignorant. I'm just saying.