You don’t need to know a thing about Jean Luc Godard’s 'Breathless' and the New Wave to accept Richard Linklater’s invitation to participate in the sweet agony and ecstasy of their creation. No true movie lover would dream of missing it.
Now that Linklater has ascended to the establishment, he’s encouraging cinema’s future by turning to its inspirational past with Nouvelle Vague, the lively story of how Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) directed Breathless with a tiny bit of cash and a ton of ego. It’s the origin story of Godard, and, in a way, of himself. Even more importantly, it’s a manual for what Linklater hopes will be a fresh wave of talent storming the shore any minute. (I’m counting on it.)
"Nouvelle Vague" is an affectionate, meticulously constructed look back on a moment in cinema history in the form of a playful and poignant thank-you letter to Jean-Luc Godard, for freeing filmmakers to make films his own way. There has always been a fascination with movies about the making of films, and Richard Linklater leans into that allure with this playful yet reverent dramatization of the chaotic shoot that gave birth to Jean-Luc Godard’s "Breathless." Part comedy, part history lesson, and part love letter to cinema itself, Linklater’s latest captures the spirit of a moment when film was being reinvented often by accident. Set in 1959 Paris, "Nouvelle Vague" recreates the three feverish weeks during which a brash young critic-turned-filmmaker changed the rules of the game. Guillaume Marbeck plays Jean-Luc Godard as a mixture of nervy energy, stubborn ego, and restless experimentation. He is less myth and more man here, uncertain, improvising, and driven not by grand vision so much as an instinct to blow open cinematic conventions. Around him orbit Zoey Deutch as Jean Seberg, the American star trying to balance her image between Hollywood expectations and Godard’s anarchic vision, and Aubry Dullin as Jean-Paul Belmondo, whose easy charm and irreverence embodied the rebellion of the Nouvelle Vague. Linklater stages "Breathless" not as a perfectly conceived revolution but as a messy, fragile act of creation. Godard shoots without a script, makes up dialogue on the fly, and relies on jump cuts out of both necessity and inspiration. The genius, the film suggests, lay as much in the mistakes as in the choices. Linklater delights in showing this improvisational chaos, reminding us that cinematic history is often written in the margins, not the blueprints. The supporting ensemble provides cinephile catnip, populating the film with the movement’s key figures: François Truffaut (Adrien Rouyard), Claude Chabrol (Antoine Besson), Jacques Rivette, Éric Rohmer, and even Agnès Varda (Roxane Rivière) appear, their presence underscoring how collective this revolution was. The film positions "Breathless" as not just Godard’s triumph, but the flowering of a cultural moment when young filmmakers, critics, really, decided cinema could speak directly to their generation. What makes "Nouvelle Vague" more than just homage is Linklater’s sensibility. Known for "Boyhood," "Dazed and Confused," "School of Rock," and the "Before" trilogy, he has always been drawn to time, to observation, and to the texture of people living in the moment in everyday existence. Like Godard, he has built a career on embracing imperfection, prioritizing mood and dialogue over rigid plotting. In dramatizing "Breathless," Linklater is essentially holding up a mirror, acknowledging how his own career owes something to Godard’s willingness to make films that feel alive, spontaneous, and open-ended. Still, that approach has its limits. For audiences steeped in film history, the film is catnip, a time machine back to the birth of modern cinema. For others, it may feel insular, more homage than narrative, more snapshot than story. Linklater does not add much tension beyond the personalities on set, and viewers without a grounding in "Breathless" may wonder what all the fuss is about but it's still really entertaining. Yet the performances carry the day. Marbeck amazingly captures Godard’s **** contradictions: arrogant yet insecure, aloof yet desperate to impress. It's hard to imagine anyone else playing this legendary person. Deutch is luminous as Seberg, playing her as both muse and prisoner, an actress who starred in failures and was straining against roles that never fully captured her depth until Breathless came along and made her star in France. And Dullin’s Belmondo radiates charisma, a reminder of how much of "Breathless’s" enduring energy came from his nonchalant magnetism. Ultimately, "Nouvelle Vague" works best as a cinematic love letter: to a film, to a movement, and to the idea that sometimes genius emerges not from control, but from chaos. Linklater doesn’t just tell Godard’s story; he reflects on his own. By revisiting the birth of the French New Wave, he reaffirms the enduring vitality of cinema that dares artists to break the rules and reminds us that, sometimes, art happens when you simply roll the camera and trust the moment.
Landmark moments in virtually every area of endeavor are worthy of, and frequently celebrated in, films that applaud the significance of these accomplishments, and that even includes groundbreaking developments in moviemaking. These cinematic commemorations are generally imbued with a sense of respectful reverence regarding their subject matter, recognition befitting such achievements. However, the latest offering from director Richard Linklater presents a puzzle on that front, given that it incorporates a pervasive degree of ambiguity that may leave viewers scratching their heads, despite the undeniable excellence of the picture itself. In 1959, as the French New Wave filmmaking movement was beginning to find its stride through the works of new directors like François Truffaut (Adrien Rouyard) and Claude Chabrol (Antoine Besson), another new aspiring talent, Jean-Luc Godard (Guillaume Marbeck), a longtime, decidedly restless movie critic at the magazine Cahiers du Cinéma, began work on his first project, “Breathless,” the story of a thief on the run and his relationship with a young American woman in Paris. The film would star Jean-Paul Belmondo (Aubry Dullin), a longtime friend of Godard and newcomer to the business, and Jean Seberg (Zoey Deutch), a rapidly rising star in Hollywood circles. Like other New Wave offerings, the production featured innovative filming techniques, new approaches to storytelling, and alternative, sometimes edgy content compared to conventional works of French cinema. However, in the interest of experimenting with the untried, Godard took these principles to an extreme, working without a script, not informing his cast of what was being asked of them, making minimal use of rehearsal and shooting time, and abandoning many of the accepted standards of traditional filmmaking. Needless to say, this way of working frustrated his stars, as well as his producer, Georges de Beauregard (Bruno Dreyfürst), who envisioned his investment evaporating before his eyes amidst the relentless chaos on the set of this shoot. Yet, when offered suggestions or given orders on how to proceed, Godard would not be moved, insisting that his improvisations and spontaneity were essential to the creation of this project. In telling Godard’s story, Linklater masterfully taps into the rampant disorder on the set, depicting the filmmaking as an unfolding trainwreck, frequently commented upon by Godard with vacuous, stream of consciousness observations and justifications about how and why things were transpiring as they did. Yet, as history has since shown, “Breathless” went down as a groundbreaking work of cinema in the French New Wave, inspiring innovations that would subsequently make their way into the art of filmmaking, influences that have lasted to this day. But, based on this offering, one might readily develop doubts. Indeed, is “Nouvelle Vague” intended as homage or parody? Good cases could be made for either argument. (In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not an especially huge fan of “Breathless”; while it may have been inventive in some ways for the time it was made, it comes across today as terribly dated, perhaps even pretentious, despite the influence it had on many other New Wave releases that came along in later years.) Nevertheless, whatever impression one might ultimately take away from this film, it’s undeniably an impressive work, beautifully filmed in gorgeous black and white, with fine performances by the ensemble, an excellent period piece production design, super cool costuming (right down to Godard’s ever-present sunglasses), a smooth, sophisticated jazz soundtrack, and utterly hilarious yet understated writing. Admittedly, this one is unlikely to appeal to anyone other than diehard cinephiles and those intimately familiar with “Breathless” and its cast and crew, but those in the know on these subjects are sure to enjoy this release immensely as one of 2025’s best films and, arguably, one of Linklater’s most noteworthy projects. Think of it as a love letter with a serious, tongue-in-cheek funny bone, and you’ve got an idea what this one is all about. This Netflix offering may not leave you breathless, but it will likely leave you vastly entertained.
Nouvelle Vague is as much a testament to being young, idealistic and a cinephile — full of opinions, drunk on your own taste, and madly in love with the movies — as it is a making-of recounting.
Although I didn’t find the film particularly noteworthy, I enjoyed visiting Paris in the late 1950s and appreciated the behind-the-scenes tour. Like many hangout films, it’s simply enjoyable to spend time with the characters, even if nothing momentous occurs (depending on one’s definition of whether the making of a classic movie qualifies as “momentous”).
That Nouvelle Vague looks like it could have been made alongside Breathless is its most immediately striking feature. From the aspect ratio to the film stock, it’s virtually indistinguishable from a contemporary production. The tone, however, is wry, knowing, and resolutely comic, even occasionally sentimental.
One could argue that the fairly straightforward biographical approach is meant to act as a primer for those have never once tuned into Turner Classic Movies; on the other hand, rapid-fire references to Godard’s contemporaries, including petty feuds and clashing reputations, are calibrated so that cinephilic savants can pat themselves on the back for getting the reference.
This pleasingly mellow portrait of a bunch of kids making movies is also an instance of defanged nostalgia — when it was an occasion to highlight the economic, political, cultural circumstances that made this kind of creativity possible.
Linklater knows that he’s providing all the ingredients that forecast fiasco, which permits him to allow the the lack of story to *be* the story. (The story is Abed?)
The title translates to “New Wave,” the French movement that revolutionized cinema in the early '60s by rejecting traditional conventions to experiment with visual style and other non-traditional approaches. This film details the making of one of the most influential productions, “Breathless,” by a young cinema writer Jean Luc Godard (later becoming one of the most influential filmmakers of his time). His lackadaisical attitude toward typical strictures like a script and schedule resulted in frustration from his producer, crew and actors. Director Richard Linklater has shot this in traditional aspect ratio, black and white with subtitles and he introduces every major historical character with their name. To create the period look even further, he added cue dots, the small black circle in the upper right corner that signifies it’s time to change reels. The actors are mostly French (with the exception of Zoey Deutch as Jean Seberg) and they seem to be enjoying themselves. The feeling of experimentation is captured with a playful nostalgic approach that chronicles this bold era of cinematic history. It’s more of a documentary told in a narrative style, but still captures some of the thrills and challenges of this new movement.