Nouvelle Vague 2025

In 1959, Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut, and Claude Chabrol—three Cahiers du Cinéma critics—attend the premiere of La Passe du diable, produced by Georges de Beauregard. At the afterparty, Godard fires off a sharp critique of the film and brushes aside its flaws, vowing to join the ranks of directors who are reshaping cinema. The moment marks a defining pivot: the switch from analyzing films to shaping them, a move that will set the tone for the group’s future work and influence a generation of filmmakers.

At the Cannes Film Festival, Truffaut’s The 400 Blows rises to meteoric prominence, signaling a new wind in French cinema and inspiring countless aspiring directors to pursue bold, personal visions. This triumph deepens the sense of possibility among the Cahiers crew and solidifies the belief that a fresh, immediate form of storytelling can resonate with wide audiences.

Godard decides to direct a film inspired by Truffaut’s short outline, drawing on the real-life spark of Michel Portail, a petty car thief, and his American journalist girlfriend Beverly Lynette. He casts Michel Poiccard as the lead, a choice that will shape the movie’s kinetic energy and ethical ambiguities. The choice of actor—Aubry Dullin—frames a performance built on quick judgments and improvisational instinct, aligning with Godard’s appetite for spontaneity. Behind the scenes, Cahiers continues to buzz with ideas as the project begins to take form.

Back at Cahiers, Italian director Roberto Rossellini urges the staff to shed unnecessary artistic ornament and shoot efficiently, advocating a lean, purposeful approach that would later influence Godard’s aesthetic. The production also draws on the guidance of Pierre Rissient as assistant director, with Godard receiving additional counsel from veteran filmmaker Jean-Pierre Melville, whose pragmatic sensibilities shape the crew’s working methods. Meanwhile, Jean Seberg promotes her latest film Bonjour Tristesse, bringing a glamorous American presence into the orbit of the project. Godard meets Seberg through her husband, François Moreuil, and advances the idea of casting her as Patricia, a central figure in the film’s narrative.

With Seberg in mind, Godard assembles the crew and establishes his camera philosophy, aiming for a guerrilla-style shoot and a restrained Academy aspect ratio. He hires cinematographer Raoul Coutard to capture quick, direct scenes that prioritize momentum over meticulous continuity. The production begins to feel like a living experiment, where the line between planning and improvisation blurs, and each day yields fragments that could redefine the project’s arc.

On the first day of filming, only a single scene is captured as Godard pushes for authenticity over polish. The cast and crew grapple with continual script rewrites, an emphasis on spontaneity, and deliberately short shooting days that leave many participants unsettled yet intrigued. As scenes unfold between Patricia and the character inspired by Michel Poiccard, Jean Seberg grows frustrated with Godard’s direction and briefly contemplates leaving the production. Belmondo’s career path itself seems precarious, with insiders warning that a misstep could ruin him.

After a week, a drink-fueled conversation among Godard, Truffaut, and Schiffman reveals new possibilities as Godard contemplates placing Truffaut in a key informant role within the story. By the second week, mounting production delays prompt Beauregard to confront Godard and threaten to pull the plug if the schedule cannot be realigned. Under mounting pressure, Godard accelerates the pace, pressing ahead with additional scenes that deepen the relationship between Seberg’s Patricia and the film’s male lead.

During the middle of the second week, Godard even casts himself as the informant after Truffaut declines the part, adding a meta-textual layer to the film’s construction. He schedules a cameo by Jean-Pierre Melville near an airport, a fleeting moment that underscores the project’s desire to blend real personalities with fiction. The production also includes a stark sequence in which Belmondo’s character meets a fatal end on a crowded street, amplifying the movie’s sense of risk and consequence. A tension-driven moment arises when Seberg’s Patricia resists a particular beat—she questions the meaning of the term “dégueulasse” (disgusting) and refuses to perform the scene in a manner that would strip away the character’s humanity. After her final scene, Seberg returns to Hollywood to pursue Let No Man Write My Epitaph, continuing a storied career.

After 23 days of principal photography, Godard wraps production, signaling the end of a wild, overlapping process that tested everyone’s patience and creativity. In post-production, Godard pushes editor Cécile Decugis toward brisk jump cuts, a move that divides opinion but ultimately reshapes the film’s rhythm. When Breathless is screened for Truffaut, Chabrol, Schiffman, and Beauregard, initial reactions are cautious—yet the movie’s later influence becomes undeniable, as it comes to be regarded as one of cinema’s most transformative works.

An epilogue ties together the personal trajectories sparked by this chaotic shoot: Belmondo rises to international stardom, Seberg’s prolific career continues and, tragically, ends early, and Godard’s own filmmaking career endures for more than six decades. The production’s restless, improvisational spirit helped redefine what a film could be—an unpredictable synthesis of spontaneity, realism, and audacious formal experimentation that would echo through the decades.

• If you’re exploring the intertwined careers behind this story, you can visit the pages of key contributors such as Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut, Claude Chabrol, Georges de Beauregard, Jean Seberg, Michel Poiccard, Patricia, Raoul Coutard, Agnès Varda, Jacques Rivette, Pierre Rissient, Roberto Rossellini, Jean Cocteau, and more, as this remarkable chapter in film history continues to inspire new generations.