Some general reflections to prepare us for Parpaillon/Up and Down (1993) today and Luc Moullet’s body of work in general:
1. It took me a while to get into Moullet’s films: Brigitte et Brigitte is no Le Beau Serge, and Les Contrebandières is no Les Carabiniers. Moullet’s films lack a certain drama, and he would probably be the first one to admit it (there’s so many self-criticisms within his public reflections). But once you get into his sensibility, the films’ rhythms, it’s fascinating to see the worlds that he inhabits.
Jean-Pierre Oudart described their style as a sort-of “deviant aberration,” which I find apt to describe the New Wave aesthetic in general and Moullet’s films in particular, as per their refraction of reality.
I find with his Les Sièges de l’Alcazar (1989), about post-war 1950s French cinephilia, and its depiction of the eccentric nature of film-going, through the love-hate relationship between these two Cahiers and Positif critics; there it all sort-of comes together.
It’s one of the best films about French cinephilia alongside Tacchella’s Travelling avant (1987) and Skorecki’s Les cinéphiles (1989).
Currently, as the last living New Wave director (88 years old), there’s a certain surprise when you hear of Moullet’s extra-cinematic activities: he ran marathons, and was an alpine cyclist (among many other pursuits).
For example, for his seventieth birthday, he completed his 229th mountain pass, Khardung La (5,359 m) in India.
But I guess in a city like Toronto, where contemporary filmmakers like Kazik Radwanski actively runs (and shares about it on his socials), and Matt Johnson, while regularly wearing active wear, can often be seen playing tennis in Trinity Bellwoods; this might be less surprising.
2. I got to see Luc Moullet three times, mostly thanks to Gérard Courant. Twice for interviews at his Parisian apartment (2018, 2024) and once in Montreal at RIDM (2019).
I don’t know if folks are too familiar with Parisian apartments. But, in this particular instance, first you get to his place, Avenue Richard Lenoir, and ring his doorbell at the front door, before he lets you in. You then have to walk five flights of narrow stairs before he greets you at his apartment – it’s the same setting of many of his films so you’re a little shocked by the uncanniness.
My late friend Samuel Bréan informed me that Moullet would judge the physical health of his guests by how long it would take to make it up all of the steps to his apartment, and if you were out of breath or not.
A funny anecdote, I think, and that speaks to the eccentric nature of his body of work.
3. Jean Douchet spoke of the origins of the New Wave as being traced back to the French Occupation, and that of these youth escaping the sad realities of life through the fantasies of these films in cinemas.
Luc Moullet would probably add, that it was through biking that they got around, and travelled from one cinema to the other.
André Bazin was famous for biking from one ciné-club to another, presenting Le jour se lève, or whatever film, to the different communities; or biking to the city outskirts to visit friends.
4. Luc Moullet started biking around Paris at 19-years-old to go to different cinemas and libraries.
Not only a cinephile, but also a library enthusiast and cyclist-autodidact, he described being secretive about visiting the American Library of Paris just across of the Cahiers office, so that others wouldn’t discover the treasure trove of where he brought them his film news.
5. Apparently in his first short-film Un Steak trop cuit (1960), his brother in it already references the mountain pass Parpaillon. But in Brigitte et Brigitte we already see its characters cycling and in the southern French alps, and which becomes more prominent in Les Contrebandières, before we actually see Moullet biking himself in Anatomie d’un rapport.
There is even more general biking background visuals in many of his other films, but for sake of time, I won’t get into it.
I bring this up to argue that biking culture was always there in Moullet’s life and body of work.
And what makes Parpaillon so great is that it brings this cycling culture to its forefront.
6. These details were always there. But it wasn’t necessarily an intuitive connection.
For me, it wasn’t until discovering his personal essay “Mon premier Stelvio” (Des Nouvelles du cinéma, 2004), where he recounts his first cycle (and failed attempts) up this mountain pass in Italy, that revolves around his March 1964 Cahiers article “Nécessité de Trento” on the mountain film festival there, that I took on its full meaning within his body of work
7. A couple of other quotes and paraphrases that are relevant.
Luc Moullet (Savonette indocile): “I was always adept at biking. For me, the bike always represented God. And the car, the devil.”
In Anatomie d’un rapport, he speaks of how biking was able to clear his thoughts when he is either romantically or sexually confused or frustrated.
In his article, “Mon travail” (Trafic nº 39), he speaks of how biking was able to help him creatively, giving him ideas for articles, scripts and films.
Just to say, I agree with Fabien Boully, when he writes, “Parpaillon is without doubt the one and only true cinematic love song ever dedicated to the universe of the bicycle.” (Rouge, 2003)
8. Within this presentation I can only talk about so many things relating to Moullet and Parpaillon.
Other topics could have included:
The “roubine,” this odd and beautiful mountain range that he grew around and loves to film. In an interview with Courant, he described the art of cinema comparable to that of the mountain range, never knowing what’s around the corner.
How much he appreciated 90s Iranian cinema, notably the films of Kiarostami (another great mountain director par excellence).
The influence of the pataphysical theorist Alfred Jarry, who receives a reference in the film’s subtitle.
The encyclopedic and essayist nature of his work in general, similar to a David Foster Wallace, there earlier on in his Inspecteur Juross article “Les mystères de Paris” (nº 161). Creating these détournements from the quotidian into the realm of the fantasy.
9. To conclude, I just think it’s best not to perceive Moullet as an esoteric and obscure French filmmaker, as he’s sometimes described, but, instead to see and talk about him as what he truly is, one of the greatest and popular French comedy directors.
I hope you enjoy the screening.
I’m happy to talk more about the film or him after this screening for those interested, or to catch up with folks that just want to catch up from when I was at TIFF or in Toronto in general.
