Anna Karina: Angela

Jean-Claude Brialy: Émile Récamier

Jean-Paul Belmondo: Alfred Lubitsch

Director: Jean-Luc Godard

French with English subtitles.

Comedy / Romance. 84 Minutes.

Wearing the tongue-in-cheek masks of tragedy and comedy, Jean Luc Godard's 1961 whimsical homage to women, men, and movies, specifically American musicals, stars Jean-Claude Brialy, Jean-Paul Belmondo and Anna Karina (Godard's then wife). A sweet romp of a time capsule through the early 1960's, it never turns saccharine, and holds up due to the timeless male vs. female theme and Godard's clever, playful treatment. Conjuring up plentiful signs and symbols of the decade, as well as earlier movie masters (the Belmondo character is named Lubitsch), this hip and light-hearted excursion into the battle of the sexes begins with a stream of titles invoking everything from Bastille Day to love in its many forms.

The inventive, fluid use of titles is employed throughout and serves as a sort of chorus. They provide the text of a midnight argument between lovers Angela and Émile, using book titles to silently sling insults at each other. They are displayed backwards and in a riddle. They are pulled off shelves of the bookstore where Émile works to reveal the shoppers' purpose as they browse. They are one of a myriad of gadgets Godard employs to delightful effect.

Closer to the fun-seeking burglars of Band of Outsiders than his films with a more jaundiced eye (Contempt, My Life to Live), this is the work Godard considered his first real film. Like its contemporary, Trauffaut's Jules et Jim, which is alluded to here in cameos by Jeanne Moreau and Marie DeBois, the love triangle motif is similar. A charming stripper by trade, Angela (Karina) lives with bookseller Émile (Brialy) and wants to have a baby. He says sure, but some other time. Best pal Alfred (Belmondo) is ready to step into Émile's shoes, so to speak, but won't hang around forever. Showcasing Karina's physical beauty, if not her ability to sing, the uncomplicated story and all her posturing over who to choose is summed up in the song she sings in her act: "Why do men put up with me when I act capriciously? Because I am so beautiful. A woman is a woman."

The visual interest never stops; from the camera bobbing up and down as it follows Angela and Émile moving about their apartment, the wash of bright colors filtered over Angela in her act at the club, or the photos of movie stars taped to the walls. We also see the blind guys having a hard time seeing because of their dark glasses, the couple kissing in the doorway who are envied or pitied, depending on how things are going for the central trio.

The effortless Michel Legrande soundtrack, added to the more fanciful sounds, as when a thunderstorm rages outside during the lovers' quarrel, makes a lovely mix. Also distinctive are the songs of Charles Aznavour, some romantic and some with the bite of "You've Let Yourself Go," a more bitter than sweet ode to marriage. It's also reminiscent of Jacques Tati as the players move about the neighborhood in this 24-hour slice of joie de vivre.

More kudos to Rialto Pictures for this new entry into their collection of re-releases, in flawless new prints, fabulous cinemascope and Eastmancolor. opening at the Music Box Theatre (Chicago) on July 25.