Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube. Their erotically charged St. Tropez sojourn is interrupted by the arrival of flamboyantly smug Maurice Ronet with teenage jail-bait daughter Jane Birkin in tow. Melville’s special achievement was to relocate the American gangster film to France, and to incorporate his own steely poetic and philosophical obsessions. Examining the history of the concept of cinema and its relationship to time over the course of a 266-minute run time, this film took the French master more than a decade to make and isn’t recommended for the casual viewer. Jean Yanne (who won the best actor prize at Cannes) and Marlène Jobert are the doomed pair who are locked into a destructive pattern of dependency, abuse, malingering love and contempt. The younger, Anne, experiences her first period, while her sibling Frédérique navigates her political awakening and attraction to an older man. This Friday, everyone’s ego is in for a bruising. Those whose knowledge of French Nouvelle Vague. Cute as a button, with a voice like a soap bubble, the eponymous Joanna (Geneviève Waïte) is an ingénue, less interested in her art studies than in sleeping around with as many partners as are willing. Truffaut himself plays the director, while Jean-Pierre Léaud, Jacqueline Bisset, Jean-Pierre Aumont and Valentina Cortese orbit around him on the hectic shoot of a rather silly-looking comedy called Meet Pamela. Even in the butchered version distributed in Britain (dubbed and cut to 102 minutes) it’s worth seeing: the mood remains, as does the film’s central sequence, a superbly executed silent jewel robbery in the Place Vendôme. Born into poverty, she was discovered on the streets of ’30s Paris, singing for her supper, precipitating a remarkable rise to fame and fortune. A young accountant (a still-flushed-cheeked Isabelle Huppert, in one of her most sensual and mysteriously protean performances) leaves her incredulous, angered bourgeois husband for an earthy, unemployed petty ex-con (a superbly equine and cocksure Gérard Depardieu). Going behind the scenes with the band as they prepare for a London concert, the film keeps pace with the band members as they outrace “potty” fans and send a search party for Ringo who wanders off with a book. Over a leisurely three hours, Céline and Julie Go Boating sees Jacques Rivette – in some ways the black sheep of the key French New Wave directors – still determinedly bending and reshaping cinema in new ways. David Thomson calls Clouzot’s a ‘cinema of total disenchantment’. Over one weekend, filled with parties, blossoming friendships and romantic encounters, two young women learn about life’s pleasures and pains in swinging London. But her outlook broadens over the course of the film, and even as of the beginning, we are typically off-balanced by the surreally violent visions of our heroine. The eventual profit was substantial, rumored to be fifty times the investment. BBA, Godard’s ambitious, sweeping eight-part video project exploring, as per the pun in the film’s title, the ‘history’, ‘histories’, ‘story’ and ‘stories’ of cinema, is often considered the most important work of his late career. it’s worth seeing: the mood remains, as does the film’s central sequence, a superbly executed silent jewel robbery in the Place Vendôme. Either way, you’ll find plenty to tickle your Francophile fancy in this countdown of the best French films released between 1902 and 2019. Yet there’s more than a touch of Bresson (even more, however, of Becker’s mentor Renoir) to the close-ups that punctuate the evolving relationship between the escapees and their final discovery of a sort of forgiveness for their betrayer. Céline is Julie, Julie is Céline, distinct yet interchangeable: un their varying guises, they dismantle all real-world attachments (a pompous boyfriend and a burgeoning magic career are playfully, hilariously tossed to the wind) so that they can focus on a fantasy. 1915: Slaughter at Gallipoli; first use of gas on the Western Front; Lusitania sunk. By the mid-60s, all eyes were on London – the swinging capital of the world – where radical changes to social and sexual politics were fanned by a modern youth. The many explicit sex scenes had to be cut in order to keep this on the Archive. This drama film, directed by Alain Resnais and written by Marguerite Duras, is the documentation of an intimately personal conversation between a French-Japanese couple about memory and forgetfulness. After a failed suicide, Claude Ridder (Rich) is visited by two men who invite him to take part in an experiment (already tried with a mouse) to project him into the past to see if he can recapture a moment of his life (since he has no wish to live, and therefore has no future, he is the perfect subject).  Seberg agreed to appear in the film on 8 June 1959 for $15,000, which was one-sixth of the film's budget. Even in the butchered version distributed in Britain (dubbed and cut to 102 minutes). The tug of love between the monster and the maiden is never overplayed, but neither does the film shackle this beast – he remains unpredictable and threatening throughout. The situation is complicated by the constant interruptions of Jean’s beloved but irascible first mate Pére Jules (Michel Simon). After his infant brother is abducted by a gang of semi-robotic Cyclops, strong-man One (Perlman) journeys to unite with feisty nine-year-old orphan Miette (Vittet) and go to the sea-rig laboratory inhabited by the evil Krank (Emilfork), his six cloned brothers (Pinon), their diminutive ‘mother’, and Uncle Irvin, a sardonic brain floating in a fish tank. Superb. One thing leads to another and the four find themselves on holiday together on the Île d’Yeu, an island off the Vendée coast, where desire gets mixed up with criminal doings and a few litres of alcohol. They head to the south of France in a hail of gunfire and Gauloises. There’s no better way to understand the fundamental difference in temperament between Truffaut and Godard – those two key figureheads of 1960s French film – than in comparing their movies about moviemaking. The film is all the more interesting for remaining an eccentric one-of-a-kind that feels every bit the product of its writer-director’s unique sensibility and worldview. In 1959 François Truffaut, neglected son, passionate reader, delinquent student and cinephile, wrote and filmed one of the first glistening droplets of the French New Wave, ‘The 400 Blows’, in which Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Léaud) demonstrates – unforgettably – that a good brain and bad parents don’t necessarily turn a boy into a talented film director, although they will, one way or another, turn him into a liar.