Rereading Conflict: Godard and Barthes’ Drift
As we have already observed, Godard’s interest in filmic experimentation increases almost exponentially with each new film that he produces from 1960 onward. For evidence just consider the inherent difference(s) between Vivre sa Vie (1962) and Pierrot le Fou (1965). Whereas one film provides a more straightforward, though in no way conventional, rendering of the daily activities of a French prostitute, ending abruptly with the rather unfortunate death of the protagonist, the other voices Godard’s increasing emphasis on juxtaposition, notably marked by dramatic shifts in setting and mise-en-scene. As his career progresses, Godard seems increasingly interested in playing with the more recognizable conventions of mainstream cinema. In a strong sense, his films represent an obvious criticism of the more bankrupt tenants of dominant Hollywood film (i.e. a continuing discourse on linearity, dialogue, and stylistic convention). Though it is, in part, necessary that Godard’s films be considered as being in opposition to those of mainstream directors, this line of reasoning, when pursued too forcefully, seems to forget that he is moving towards certain tendencies of his own. This is to say that although there is room to read, as many theorists have, that Godard’s films provide critical meta-commentaries on cinematic tendencies at large, this analysis should not ignore the tendencies that Godard himself is working towards. This, of course, is not an attempt to discredit the work of those interested in Godard’s methods of criticism. Instead, this response works to understand the very methods that become so controversial. Namely, it seems necessary to expound upon Barthes’ conception of the drift.
As was suggested previously, it is really the highly segmented nature of Godard’s later works (Masculin/Feminin, Pierrot le Fou) that encourages me to return to Barthes’ theories concerning textual production. Though Roland Barthes’ seminal work regarding film, Camera Lucida, remains particularly viable, I am more interested in Barthes’ work on the written text. Specifically, Barthes’ discussion of the drift seems particular relevant to this discussion. With regard for three of Barthes’ more influential texts (A Lover’s Discourse, the Pleasure of the Text, and Empire of Signs), one can read the he is in the process of formulating and enacting certain methodological approaches. Amongst the most important of these processes or methodologies is Barthes’ theories regarding textual progression. Essentially, Barthes is interested in creating texts that encourage the reader to move between segmented sections at will. This is to say that, in direct opposition to the dominant and linear narrative, Barthes creates texts that allow the reader to drift between various segmented sections. In The Pleasure of the Text, Barthes argues that one should disrespect the whole and allow oneself to be driven around by seductions and illusions (The Pleasure of the Text 18). Each of the three aforementioned books are ultimately constructed in accordance with this interest. And, although Barthes is specifically addressing the written/printed text, one can see certain parallels emerging in cinematic form. In fact, as I have commented before, I’m particularly interested in the 2004 release The Cruise. Essentially, the film is a rather lengthy documentary of New York native and city afficionado, Timothy “Speed” Levitch. Interestingly, it seems that Levitch’s method for moving through the city is similar to that which Barthes’ advocates with regard for the written text:
In a rather simplistic sense, one can see that Godard constructs his texts with the same regard for movement or progression. Ultimately, he seems incredibly interested in what it means for the viewer to move from one segment to another, to drift through a simulacrum of divergent images. Instead of attempting to read a narrative in this, it seems crucial to allow the film to be what it already is. This is to say that it seems counter-productive to force or overlay a narrative framework. Instead of looking for narrative threads, connections, etc., one would have to discuss the underlying logic, the systematic structure that guides this text. When fellow students exclaim that they don’t understand certain narrative progressions they seem to forget that this is Godard’s point from the start. To read that Godard’s film is opposed to certain modalities of dominant cinema, but to forget that his methods reflect this opposition seems counterintuitive.
~ by 1jargoncomputer on November 25, 2008.
Posted in Godard
Tags: Barthes, Godard, the Cruise, the Drift, Timothy Speed Levitch

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