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Title: Bad Blood (1986)
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| Cast overview, first billed only: | |||
| Michel Piccoli | ... | Marc | |
| Juliette Binoche | ... | Anna | |
| Denis Lavant | ... | Alex | |
| Hans Meyer | ... | Hans | |
| Julie Delpy | ... | Lise | |
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Carroll Brooks | ... | The American woman |
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Hugo Pratt | ... | Boris |
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Mireille Perrier | ... | The young mother |
| Serge Reggiani | ... | Charlie | |
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Jérôme Zucca | ... | Thomas |
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Paul Handford | ||
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Charles Schmitt | ||
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François Négret | ||
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Philippe Fretun | ||
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Thomas Peckre | ||
Marc (Michel Piccoli) recruits Alex (Denis Lavant), son of his former, now dead colleague. Alex is a card shark with a big dream to go out to the world and leave his own mark. His determination leads him to break up with his girl friend, Lise (Julie Deply). Alex initially refuses to help Marc and Hans for their "job" of stealing the culture of new drug. But Anna (Juliette Binoche)'s charm and beauty were irresistible. Alex joins the elders. Alex's dance to David Bowie's Modern Love illustrates unfolding emotions of young Alex moving into an adult (graying if not dying) world. The interplay among the generations, between genders, among social classes, memory and hopes, all played against black and white and occasional red back drop. Anna's cobalt blue robe punctuates the moment when Alex confesses his love for her. Written by lucidwisdom@gmail.com
I think music used throughout this reveals quite a bit of the cinematic exercise.
In something like Beau Travail also with Lavant and operatic, space is arranged bodily, the whole thing is cinematic and flows. Not so here. The guy responsible for this wants to be a little like Godard, so we have the interminable recitations, the poetry, the deliberately crude crime plot where you only need a gun and a girl, always Godard's weaker spots.
This too bad. Because there are visual moments here that left me practically giddy, for example love as a matter of leaping from a plane, a matter of joint flight and tenderly balancing mid-air.
Instead we get a patchy, stuttery ride that only now and then blossoms into some internal scenery.
The opportunity missed is that the eye dances but is not fully consumed with its musical capacity. Nouvelle Vague ruins this by proxy. I like to think that Wong Kar Wai saw this and immediately knew which parts worked.