The Mother and the Whore (1973)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Mother and the Whore (1973) – J. Eustache

This film, a sort of epilogue to (or elegy for) the Nouvelle Vague, captures that feeling in your twenties when you are finding your way, establishing relationships under heightened uncertainty, not just about the rules of relationships but about yourself and your values and goals.  In its typically French fashion, the film is all talk – often fascinating talk that reveals character (or character flaws), shot with actors speaking directly to the camera. At the start (of its 3 ½ hour length), the main talker is Alexandre, played by New Wave stalwart Jean-Pierre Léaud who we know so well from his work with Truffaut (from The 400 Blows onward).  Although he is our main point of identification, we are likely meant to be ambivalent about him, since he is clearly setting out to cheat on his live-in girlfriend, Marie (Bernadette LaFont; her flat, not his) with another woman he notices at an outdoor café/pub, Veronika (Françoise Lebrun).  He is a charming talker but selfish and narcissistic, even while he aims to be totally honest with both women (if not always with himself – there is a lot of bad faith on display here). As the film progresses, we get to see more about Marie’s perspective (angry, hurt, jealous) and especially that of Veronika who starts to have monologues of her own by the film’s end -- and she is quite willing to offer her graphic views on sexual matters, laced with a lot of profanity.  Indeed, the film is shocking in this respect, calling to mind the films of Andy Warhol or John Waters that know no boundaries.  Although not pornographic, the film does not shy away from presenting the ménage à trois as it appears, struggles, and collapses, with all the heightened emotions that you would expect. Given its time period (and the title), it isn’t too difficult to ascertain that the film has something to say about “women’s liberation” and is questioning Alexandre’s (and society’s) attitudes toward women and their role.  To its credit, it sees women as free to make their own decisions about life and especially sex; however, I also got the sense that director Jean Eustache (who wrote every word) may yearn for simpler times (or have empathy for those who do) when gender roles were clearer. The end result is nothing less than completely absorbing and intense (if dated) – viewers be prepared!