If I’m being honest, nothing is as amazing to watch as an epic. While they may be daunting to plan around, taking some time to sit with a film and be immersed in their world is such a unique experience. It’s a place where conventional themes do not exist, where actors are allowed to take their time getting to a point and maybe going whole minutes without anything purposeful existing. When they’re done confidently, it feels like embodying someone else’s life altogether. I think of Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles (1975) where it appears like nothing is happening and yet with patience becomes something profound, finding mundane details speaking volumes for a great shift in one’s mentality. There’s something meditative about a three hour film, where reaching the two hour mark induces a small bit of anxiety knowing that it’s quickly reaching the end.
That is exactly how I felt watching Celine and Julie Go Boating (1974). I was a fan of Jacques Rivette’s The Nun (1966) and wanted to see what other ways he explored the human condition. What I didn’t expect was him to create a towering achievement of French New Wave, where it feels at times like his interpretation of Vera Chytlova. It’s at times a meandering ode to feminism, other times commentary on literary works like Henry James and Lewis Carroll. Given that this was a very collaborative achievement, it makes sense why every scene feels like a million ideas thrown at the wall, managing to convey manic energy without turning into a chaotic mess. If nothing else, it’s one of the few times where having six writers is actually beneficial and not a sign of things like dreaded third act problems.
I’ll begin by stating one of the most amusing details. Yes, Celine and Julie in fact go boating. The only catch is that it’s not very crucial to the central plot and doesn’t happen until 3 hrs. 10 min. into a 3 hrs. 14 min. movie. That is a move that should read as trolling, annoying those impatiently waiting for the titular action to come into play. For those who came to see boating, I understand why you’re disappointed. However, I still think that there’s something fun about the title, curiously making you want to venture into these waters in the first place. The boating in itself reflects escapism, freedom from the mainland, and venturing into new, uncharted territories. What lies beyond the comfort?
That is what’s essential to understanding the framework, which itself is loosely formed and doesn’t begin to form a cohesive vision until over an hour in. Rivette spends that time creating atmosphere, allowing his characters to wander through France in dialogue-free scenes that last minutes, reflecting a solitude that is bestowed upon them. Separately Celine (Juliet Berto) and Julie (Dominique Labourier) have a sense of isolation, a struggle to make sense of the world around them. By focusing on careers of librarian (Julie) and magician (Celine), Rivette helps the character to become ciphers for intellectual debates alongside the idea of women as performative in society. Despite this framework sounding pretentious, it helps to make the dreamlike logic easier to grasp.
Celine’s story in this regard is more interesting. At various intervals, she is introduced on a dark stage, performing for men who don’t seem interested in her. There is this desperation to be loved, and the insecurities come through in separate conversations. The struggle to get up and perform remains a conflict until she breaks free. Even then, she sings out of tune, doing anything to raise an eyebrow. It isn’t until she confronts them that she has any reaction, as if breaking a social code that has long been accepted. She is the magic trick, something to gawk at. She isn’t doing much of anything, but her existence for this purpose becomes central to another aspect that slowly becomes clear.
The chemistry between Celine and Julie is infectious. When they’re alone at home, they present a candidness that allows them to feel free. It’s a chance to reflect on their own lives and understand how limited they sometimes feel in their positions. With plenty of laughter and play, they begin to unpack how much they have built their emotional connection to pleasing men, of fitting a stereotype that feels unnatural. It explains why they are attracted to the unknown, a need to explore something that could give them euphoria. Cue in some “Alice in Wonderland”-type allegories with magic edibles that give them hallucinations as well as turning the once humdrum streets of France into a place of wonderment and discovery.
Unlike most “Alice in Wonderland” adaptations, this doesn’t veer too far into surrealism. That isn’t to say that the film feels natural. It feels more and more alien as the second hour unwinds and context clues become more abstract. However, there’s not a whole lot of distortions, the appearance of White Rabbits or magically growing 10 feet. It’s alluded to, but there’s more the sense that Celine and Julie’s minds are expanding, to explore the world as something more fanciful than what they’ve come to believe it is. At most, an early scene based around Tarot Card predictions can allude to the transition. Their youthful willingness to accept the world as strange is the biggest change, where roller skating down the street is no longer taboo to them. If they want to, they’ll do it regardless of what you think.
Maybe the element that’s most in line with fantasy is their own metaphorical rabbit hole. Following their ability to break free of society’s chains, they begin to witness a series of events reminiscent of Marcel Proust. They visit a home where a murder has taken place. The catch is that every time one of them arrives, it plays out in the same repetitive pattern. Certain lines are spoken verbatim, the wife falling in the same theatrical fashion. In the living room, the child plays games like “red light green light” with the adults in a comical fashion. The world is regimented, old-fashioned in both wardrobe and interior design. Celine and Julie never feel like more than visitors, like the Daisies (1966) girls bombarded reason with anarchy. It becomes a quest to break the loop, to free certain behaviors from an eternity of intolerability.
On some level, this film cannot be spoiled. It’s more about the atmosphere that comes from mixing an absurdist comedy with experimentation and a murder mystery steeped in literary subtext. Rivette has so much that he’s throwing into a single scene that it’s an astounding accomplishment to behold. What is the bigger logic of the scene? Does seeing everything repeated in great detail help the narrative in any significant way? Much like how Jeanne Dielman rewards patient and observant viewers, I think that Celine and Julie does plenty to warp everything. It becomes hallucinatory, wondering what’s going on and how the film can get away with this sometimes anti-narrative.
There is a lot that is best just experienced here. For those who enjoy the laidback nature of French New Wave, how they can turn an everyday conversation into a wild piece of artistic expression, this is one of the most masterful takes that I’ve seen. What it lacks in clear and profound commentary on womanhood like Peppermint Soda (1977) it more than makes up for by just allowing them to experience joy. By taking away the rules, by having this be a grand collaboration with varying resources, it manages to show where cinema can go and the potential for women to be more than characters. They exist outside of reason, and their joy makes for a fascinating contrast. By the end, the idea of conventionality is so foreign. Rivette frames it like a play with actors doing several asides at once, more shouting ideas than coherent purpose. Again, he makes it work because he took the time to build a world where it’s warranted.
It’s honestly a very exciting experience. Some of it is even horrific, reflecting what art can be if allowed to take risks that are far from commercial. In their place is a chance to reinvent the medium and make it even better. This isn’t as pointlessly distracting as later Jean-Luc Godard. There is a purpose to every frame, where being confused is part of the experience. It’s the type of story where you can be two hours in and still not be sure what’s going on or where things are going yet still be fascinated by every frame. It’s the type of epic that rewards attention, where the visceral response is just as valuable as anything resembling intellectual thought. It’s dreamlike without veering into anything too bizarre. It’s the idea of turning reality into something much more enjoyable, and I love that.
I love Celine and Julie as protagonists, capable of carrying this movie with nothing more than a conversation from their sofa. As they let out deep sighs, waiting to unleash the nonsense that their days have included. They are the type of friends who protect each other from an accusatory world. It’s the type of friendship that I’d love to see more of in film. It’s so affectionate and protective, allowing their journey into the surreal to feel a bit safer. Even if they feel alone, they still have each other. They’ll return home, feeling validated for whatever crazy scheme they want to pull off. Everyone could do well with friends like them, creative and wild and free, so reflective of what humanity can be when allowed to exist outside of societal norms.
Celine and Julie Go Boating is a special film that may not appeal to everyone but does plenty right for those willing to sit with it. Rivette takes his time getting to any greater point, and the journey is part of the reason everything works nicely. With patience, he knows how to get the audience on his wavelength, allowing them to empathize with his subjects while adding intellectual discourse that never feels stuffy. There’s probably a lot to unpack in this film, and it only makes me eager to go back. For a film that goes in every direction, often at once, it feels so focused and accomplished. It’s unlike anything I have seen before, though hopefully others have followed suit and made something like it since. I really hope that’s true.
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