Cléo De 5 A 7, also known as Cléo from 5 to 7, is one of the most renowned films from the era of French New Wave Movement in the 1950s. It was written and directed by the one and only Belgium-born French director — Agnès Varda. The movie starring Corinne Marchand as young singer — Florence “Cléo” Victoire, José Luis de Vilallonga as Cléo’s lover — José, Dominique Davray as Cléo’s maid — Angèle, Serge Korber as Cléo’s music writer — Maurice, Dorothée Blanck as Cléo’s old friend — Dorothée, and Antoine Bourseiller as a soldier on leave from the Algerian War — Antoine. The movie was released in 1962 in France and Italy. It instantly received wide praise and benevolence from the audience in which it entered the 1962 Cannes Film Festival. Withstanding that Cléo included cameos by Jean-Luc Godard and Anna Karina in the film, it did not steal the spotlight from the message that Agnès Varda conveyed to the audience in this film. As a woman watching this film, I can instantly understand why it is one of the most symbolic French New Wave feminist films. Throughout the movie, Agnès Varda walks us through a controversial and complex discussion on existentialism, mortality, internalized misogyny, and women’s perspective on the objectification of their bodies.
Cléo from 5 to 7 gave me a déjà vu of the movie Before Sunrise (1995) and I can see how the three series from Richard Linklater got inspiration from Agnès Varda. Both directors employ the documentary style to capture the character’s emotional turmoil and movie plot through a fixed frame of time. The real-time Cléo from 5:00 to 6:30 pm on June 21, 1961, wandering in the city of Paris precisely cut the movie plot into three acts. The movie begins with the only colorful scene where Cléo is having a tarot card reading by a fortune-teller. The fortune-teller told her that doctor is an evil force in Cléo’s life and she will encounter a talkative man in her future. She continuously pulled the card for Cléo and it all shows illness and death in Cléo’s future. Two questions are introduced here: Will Cléo die soon? Who are the talkative men? The tarot card reading scene incites the dramatic question — what is the interwoven relationship between Cléo’s illness and this mysterious talkative man? The rest of Act I gave us a snapshot of Cléo’s ordinary daily life. Cléo meeting Angele, her maid, for hat shopping, then returned home where she briefly meet with her busy lover José. After José left, her song composers, Bob and Maurice, arrived to discuss with her a new song in which we learn more about Cléo’s perspective on her career and how people perceive her. The chapter where Cléo strolled by herself on Paris street and to the cafe is the transition to Act II. She met her old friend, Dorothée, at a sculpting studio where she is modeling nude for artists. The false defeat is introduced when Cléo went to the silent theater with Dorothée to watch a sarcastic film of a woman dying, implying her death in real life; then, leaving the theater, Cléo accidentally broke a mirror which is an omen for her test result later this afternoon. This is when the audience reaches the midpoint of the movie believing that Cléo is doomed and all is lost when she broke the mirror. The time feels relatively compressed and quick from the end of ACT II and ACT III. When Cléo encountered Antoine by the bridge on a river at Parc Montsouris, I believe this is the climax of the movie. Because half of the question is answered. The movie finally reveals who is the mysterious man in the dramatic question. The dramatic question is fully answered when the clouds over Cléo’s head seem to be gone while she is sitting on the bench at the hospital. Even after knowing she has to go through therapy for her cancer, she seems to be happy and fearless. Her attitude towards her cancer and her existence seems to change after her short encounter in the evening with Antoine. The aftermath is seeing Cléo smile happily for the very first time in the film when she looks into Antoine’s eyes.
Agnès Varda innovatively inserts the appearance of the twelve chapters, time, and characters on the screen. Not only does this make the time in the movie fluid but also organized. As a viewer, we can feel the continual progression of eight minutes in every chapter but also distinctively feel the transition from one chapter to the other. The development of the plot is utilized by two elements: foretelling and the chapter’s scene. The director skillfully hides a little Easter egg in every chapter to hint to the audience about what is going to happen in the next, this is exactly what the tarot card does from the first scene. For example, when Cléo is heading home from hat shopping, she heard the current news about the Algerian War. This is a hint of Antoine’s identity as a returning soldier from the Algerian War on holiday. Another example is the dark humor silent film in Act II. Featuring Jean-Luc Godard, the movie entails a man witnessing two versions of the death of her fiance with and without glasses. This two and half minutes plot symbolizes the main theme of the entire film: time does not exist once you rediscover your existence in life. The statement ‘time is relative’ is commonly accepted and acknowledged by the public. But what Agnès Varda adapts this idea and sparks the question — what if time is a pair of glasses, and the passage of time changes based on what kind of lenses you choose to wear? This is an interesting question and I love how she inferred such in-depth meaning in such a short time frame. In the next paragraph, I am going to do a sequential analysis of the silent film that Cléo and Dorothée watched to explain further the theme.
The silent film featuring Jean-Luc Godard and Anna Karina is easily one of the greatest scenes in the movie. Not only does the expressive silence makes it universal and transcends the cultural reference barrier, but also the chemistry between the Italian neo-surrealism and French romanticism in the cinematic technique is the cherry on top of this sequence. From a pessimistic lens in viewing the world, the protagonist (Godard) will only spot darkness and misery. Agnès Varda shots this scene from both a first and third-person point of view. From the third-person point of view, we see the interaction between Godard and Karina. From the first-person perspective, we see how Godard’s world change based on and without glasses. The dramatic motion and facial expression of the protagonists, and their interaction with the guy carrying a water pipe and the guy who drove the car have an unpredictable strangeness. It gave a sense of surrealism to the uncanny style. The simple story plot of the lover is the romanticism in French film. Another great deployment is the big subtitles in between shots. For example, when Goard took off his glasses and wipes his tears with a handkerchief, he realizes it is the glasses that change the ending of his fiance. On the screen, it appears ‘Ah! Je voyais tout en nois a cause de mes lunettes!’. A little sarcasm and comedy style in the plot, but also very metaphorical in expressing the simple idea of how optimism changes the story landscape. Agnès Varda plays with the idea of the time when she shows us two different endings of this couple when Godard took off his glasses. It appears that time doesn’t exist linearly but in a cycle where the perspective changes the future. The composition of shots, makeup style, and plotting contribute to the New Wave style in the 1960s. The metaphors in this short film are also very core to the main theme of the film: mortality seems less significant when you fully accept and have command of your existence.
The point of view that Agnès Varda is trying to share with the audience is both literally and metaphorically as a mirror. If there is one object that could represent the film throughout, it would be a mirror. Recurring plots with patterns of mirrors expressing different perspectives on existentialism can be observed throughout. At the beginning of the story, when she wears a wig and fancy dress at the hat store, Cléo looks into the mirror in a self-absorbed state where she needs the external affirmation that she is beautiful. In the midpoint, when Cléo leaves Dorothée’s work studio and a mirror fell and broke, Cléo associates the incident with her pessimism about mortality. In the ending scene at the park, when Antoine is talking to Cléo, there are no more mirrors in her space. It is simply her true self, Florence, with a man who stands respectively and equally to her. Both of them exhibit the authentic self as human beings that are afraid of death. Yet, both are carefree from the regarded and watch of others. The mirror symbolizes existentialism. A person might be looking into the mirror at oneself, but it is society’s perspective. The mirror is often used as an object to reflect on oneself. In this movie, it is only frequently used for those who forgot the authentic self and needed mirrors as reminders of who they truly are. When you are confident and firm in your identity, there is no need for a mirror to remind you.
Carrying on the existentialism motifs behind the film, Agnès Varda fearlessly discussed the controversies of feminism in the entire film. However, the feminist aspect did not overpower the entire film, it only gently painted light colors of feminism onto this film. Center around the idea of mortality, the objectification of women’s bodies is answered by Cléo’s friend — Dorothée. She reminds Cléo that ‘her body makes her happy, not proud’. As women, we have overcomplex the idea of our own body due to the influence of society. But the answer to this question is very simple. Dorothée explains it in one sentence. The feeling of pride is dependent on others’ value of worth in your body whereas happiness comes from the inner self. This message is not only for women but for everyone — to reclaim control of your own body. From commanding the body to the spirit, the scene where Cléo discusses with her musicians how to perform new songs is a lesson learned, too. At first, you can see that she sings to please. But later when she is singing “Sans Toi”, the entire room seems to darken and the spotlight is back on her true self. That is when she regains the power of her narrative. Transforming from complaining about the exploitation of her youth & beauty in the music industry, Cléo became the owner of her voice when Cléo perform her authentic feelings without reservation. Both messages gave us a feminist perspective on how to live a more existential life without phony explication. But it never loses the focus on existentialism as it liberates the shackles in Cléo’s mind.
From the last paper, I recalled stating how Le Corbeau is my favorite film I have written a reflection paper on. But Agnès Varda’s Cléo From 5 to 7 has topped Le Corbeau in coming to first place in my heart for this class. I am so grateful I have a chance to expose to such an intelligent and talented director who happens to be a woman! I think there are multiple reasons why it resonates so much with this film. First, I am writing this paper while I am slowly recovering from my medical illness. Not saying that I am tremendously ill like Cléo in the film. However, the fact that being sick (even for a short period) while in youth has many paradoxes and internal turmoil that a woman has to come to terms with. Watching this film in this special condition gives me more perspective I don’t think I normally would have. Secondly, my favorite director is Christopher Nolan because of how brilliantly he always plays with the concept of time. (ie, Momento, Interstellar, Tenet…etc). Similarly, in this movie, the entire film is composed of twelve chapters separated in time. You feel the relative of time based on the tempo of the story plot. Comparing one scene to the other is so disparate and distinctive. Over 90 minutes in the film, you can follow the progression of the film but also feel time being compressed and loosened uniquely in every chapter. Like her scene with the music composers at her house seems so long yet her conversation with Antoine seems so short. Her pessimism while shopping for a hat from the beginning of the movie versus her optimism while talking to Antoine from the end of the movie — all contributes to the time relativeness from an audience’s perspective. Lastly, this movie feels like a warm-hearted personal letter to any woman at any stage of her life. It inspires us to have a different outlook on our existence: how we value our self-worth, how we accept our feminism, and how we strive for our accomplishments. In conclusion, I enjoy thoroughly watching this movie for the second time at home. I would gladly recommend them to everybody. There is always something to learn and lessons to pick up for everyone in Cléo from 5 to 7.
Work Cited
“Agnès Varda.” In Wikipedia, May 6, 2022. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Agn%C3%A8s_Varda&oldid=1086445703.
“Cléo from 5 to 7.” In Wikipedia, April 13, 2022. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Cl%C3%A9o_from_5_to_7&oldid=1082512422.
Lizzy (wildflower). “(Cléo from 5 to 7; Cléo de 5 à 7) @ Lizzy’s Film Reviews ::” Lizzy’s Film Reviews. Accessed May 16, 2022. http://wildflower.pixnet.net/blog/post/33454960.
“Theme and Form | Cléo de 5 à 7.” Accessed May 16, 2022. https://sites.psu.edu/fr138wroblewski/theme-and-form/.
Varda, Agnès. Cléo de 5 à 7. Comedy, Drama, Music. Ciné-tamaris, Rome Paris Films, 1962.
Zeric, Arijana. “Return to the Self: Agnès Varda’s Cléo from 5 to 7.” Film Criticism 43, no. 3 (2019). https://doi.org/10.3998/fc.13761232.0043.309.
