I've seen several films by Agnès Varda and this one is pretty much what I expected...unfortunately. While Varda is loved by some, her films have a very non-cinematic quality. That makes her work very much the stuff artsy folk often like but which have no broad appeal. To many of her fans, she is a genius with her documentary and documentary style films. As for me, her work just doesn't do much for me. This isn't necessarily a criticism...just the truth that these style films just don't excite me in any way...possibly because he subject matter is often so mundane.
When "Vagabond" begins, a young lady is found dead in a trench...dead, apparently, from exposure. The film then backtracks a few days and shows this woman's life up to her untimely death. Mona is what folks used to call a hobo...a person without a home who likes the life of the open road. She'll work when she has to...but only enough to get her a bit to eat, some alcohol, some cigarettes or some drugs. But for the most part she enjoys a subsistence life- -one with no real connections. The film shows her many interactions with others and some of the folks she met are interviewed. It's all fiction but done in a way that appears to be a documentary. Is there any real point to all this? I dunno...but I assume Varda's point is that there is no point...a sad look into a sad life. I was assuming I'd develop a connection...a sense of caring about this dead woman...but this was not to be. Instead, it's an oddly detached film.
If this sounds like a depressing film, then you pretty much get the drift of the movie. It's unpleasant and mildly interesting. If you look at the reviews, most folks seem to love her work but I also suspect these are Varda-philes. As for me, I adore French films but not this type. I would have much preferred a more fake, glossy and cinematic project...perhaps one like Varda's deceased husband, Jacques Demy, would have made.
When "Vagabond" begins, a young lady is found dead in a trench...dead, apparently, from exposure. The film then backtracks a few days and shows this woman's life up to her untimely death. Mona is what folks used to call a hobo...a person without a home who likes the life of the open road. She'll work when she has to...but only enough to get her a bit to eat, some alcohol, some cigarettes or some drugs. But for the most part she enjoys a subsistence life- -one with no real connections. The film shows her many interactions with others and some of the folks she met are interviewed. It's all fiction but done in a way that appears to be a documentary. Is there any real point to all this? I dunno...but I assume Varda's point is that there is no point...a sad look into a sad life. I was assuming I'd develop a connection...a sense of caring about this dead woman...but this was not to be. Instead, it's an oddly detached film.
If this sounds like a depressing film, then you pretty much get the drift of the movie. It's unpleasant and mildly interesting. If you look at the reviews, most folks seem to love her work but I also suspect these are Varda-philes. As for me, I adore French films but not this type. I would have much preferred a more fake, glossy and cinematic project...perhaps one like Varda's deceased husband, Jacques Demy, would have made.