La Jétee by Chris Marker (Review)
12 Monkeys came out around the time I was taking my film history class, and my professor was irate. When asked about 12 Monkeys, he stated, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be seeing it. At first, we just thought he was being eccentric, as most college professors are. But then he showed us why. He showed us La Jetée.
To be fair, 12 Monkeys didn’t so much remake La Jetée as reimagine it. The basic concept is the same: In the future, mankind has been devastated. In La Jetée, it’s due to nuclear war; in 12 Monkeys, a worldwide epidemic. The survivors realize that the only hope is to travel back to the past for supplies and information. However, all such experiments are a failure until the scientists come across a single man, a man whose whole existence seems linked to a powerful memory. Using this memory as an anchor, it’s possible for the man to go into the past and return successfully. However, the man’s memory also provides clues to his own demise, which plays out tragically as the film progresses.
You could classify this as a “science fiction” film, what with the time travel and all. But thankfully, the time travel is not the movie’s focus (so you won’t hear any lame Star Trek-isms). Rather, it’s the relationship between a person and his memory, and how that memory can both shape and ruin their life.
Much of the film’s power comes from its unusual structure. Composed of nothing but still photos, held together by narration, the film seems like nothing more than a glorified slideshow. (Then again, what film isn’t?) But it flows so beautifully. Partly due to the intriguing storyline and partly due to the lovely photography, the approach nevers comes across as artsy, just artistic. Admittedly, the structure is limiting, and does take some getting used to. But it’s not hard to fall under the film’s sway. Combined with the evocative score, the film feels both surreal, like a waking dream, and nostalgic. And with a running time just under 30 minutes, there’s no reason not to give into the temptation to watch it several times in one sitting.
There is one break from the structure, and despite its brevity, it has a lasting impact. At one point in the film, the woman, lying in bed, looks right into the camera and blinks. The sequence lasts only a second or two, but it has a huge effect. At first, you’re not sure if what you saw really happened, or it’s your mind playing tricks on you. But it plays as a haunting metaphor for the importance she has in the man’s memory.
As interesting as the film’s structure is, it is imprisoning. To those unable to get into La Jetee, I’m sure they’ll find it boring and stilted. But the woman’s way of breaking out of the film’s structure mirrors the way she is able to break out of his memory. She stands aloof, watching him, like she bemusedly watches us for that brief moment. If you don’t remember anything else about the film, you’ll remember that instant of motion. For such a small thing to have the impact it does says a lot for Marker’s skill, and for the beauty of this little film.
For a long time, I was like my film professor. I refused to see 12 Monkeys because I thought it’d be a crime to remake a film as beautiful as La Jetée. But having seen it, I’ll confess… 12 Monkeys isn’t bad but it’s still an inferior film. It lacks the beauty and poetry that La Jetée effortlessly possesses, and feels crude and ugly by comparison. One thing that always annoyed me about 12 Monkeys was how it beat you over the head with the film’s ending, as if it wanted you to see how poignant it was. With La Jetée, the ending is as mysterious for you as it is for the time traveller. When the film reaches its conclusion, it’s both a genuine shock and fitting resolution — and all the more tragic.
