Rest in Peace, Mr. Belmondo. | Hiroyuki Ishida, Dean of the Graduate School of Health Management
2021.11.02
In September, the news of the death of Jean-Paul Belmondo, a leading French actor, arrived. I imagine he has many fans in our country as a star representing the French avant-garde film movement, the so-called Nouvelle Vague. He is often spoken of in comparison to fellow French actor Alain Delon, who was active around the same time. However, it seems Belmondo, who exuded "le charme" (charm), was more beloved by the French people than the typically handsome Delon. President Macron called him a "national treasure," and I hear a memorial service was held for him with the honors of a state funeral.
During my impressionable years, for some reason, I watched many French films. As you may know, the more a French film is hailed as a masterpiece, the more abstruse it tends to be, and I sometimes encountered films where I couldn't even tell when they began or ended. Lacking Hollywood-style poetic justice or a clear narrative structure, and with unconventional developments in male-female relationships, there was much that my teenage self could not comprehend. On the other hand, I felt a stimulation and a European atmosphere that I couldn't get in daily life, and I thought that striving to understand these masterpieces was a gateway to adulthood. For example, "Pierrot le Fou" (directed by Jean-Luc Godard), starring Belmondo. On my first viewing, the story and dialogue were completely incomprehensible. All I remembered was the beauty of the sea in the south of France and the charm of actress Anna Karina. But it's strange how, upon rewatching the film after gaining some life experience, I could appreciate its reputation as a masterpiece, finding it to be a condensation of a man's aspirations, absurdity, and sorrow.
Whether it's movies or books, it's a common experience to find that your interpretation changes completely when you rewatch or reread them after many years. To give another example from my own experience, there's "A Man and a Woman" (a 1966 French film, original title: *Un homme et une femme*, directed by Claude Lelouch). Almost everyone has probably heard the melody of its memorable theme song, composed by Francis Lai, but it's also a rare film in that very few people have actually seen the movie itself. Even considering the pre-IT era setting, if you just follow the story with its leisurely pace and the male-female relationship that seems to go nowhere, young people would probably get sleepy in ten minutes. However, rewatching it as an adult, you realize what a truly well-made film it is, especially in its lyrical aspects. Deauville, an off-season seaside resort northwest of Paris. The story of a man and a woman unfolds here, and the composition of the shots, the music, the conversations between the man and woman, the switch between black-and-white and natural color footage depending on the scene, and the alluring sensuality of actress Anouk Aimée—all of it is in perfect harmony, and there is not a trace of the boredom I felt when I watched it in the past. In fact, the film won the Grand Prix at the Cannes Film Festival, and director Lelouch and composer Francis Lai, who were completely unknown at the time, were able to bid farewell to poverty. As a matter of fact, as an homage to this film, I visited the town of Deauville where it was set. The color of the Atlantic Ocean and the long, wide boardwalk, *les planches*, stretching endlessly along the sandy beach, still exist just as they were in the movie, presenting a very different atmosphere from the coastlines in our country, which are crowded with beach houses. The town has a casino and a racetrack, and the Hôtel Barrière Le Normandy, the setting for their rendezvous, was simply magnificent. Getting a glimpse of how the wealthy French spend their time at a seaside resort was a valuable experience.
Unfortunately, old and niche films like the ones I've introduced are unlikely to be available on on-demand sites, so they will probably fade from public view over time. I don't know if this is a form of cultural selection or just the nostalgia of a film lover. But I've always felt that, regardless of my main profession, the task of passing on the legacy left by our predecessors to the next generation is necessary. Finally, the COVID-19 pandemic is showing signs of abating. Students will gradually be returning to SFC as well. Since they've been cooped up for so long, it wouldn't be a bad idea for them to take a trip to the Shonan coast while they're here. The sea in the off-season has a different, wonderful atmosphere than in the summer. Perhaps the distance between a man and a woman might shrink a little, too.