Actuakers One of my all time favorites.

Manthast Absolutely amazing

Brendon Jones It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

Roy Hart If you're interested in the topic at hand, you should just watch it and judge yourself because the reviews have gone very biased by people that didn't even watch it and just hate (or love) the creator. I liked it, it was well written, narrated, and directed and it was about a topic that interests me.

mvanhoore In the late sixties a new wave of directors emerged from France. Instead of images dialogs were more important to them. Although there were more (art house) directors who put a lot of talking into their movies people like Jacques Rivette and Jean Eustache took it to the extreme.There are several reasons to dislike La Maman et la Putain: First reason is of course its length as mentioned by almost every reviewer I watched this movie in several parts which is really the best way to enjoy and analyze it. Second reason is the fact that it is shot in black and white. Good use of color could have added a lot of emotion and atmosphere. And the third reason is the cinematography. In almost every scene there is a static camera as if nothing has changed since the invention of cinema by the brothers Lumiere. A lot of reviewers add the fact that they cannot identify with protagonist Alexandre, a dandy with great disdain of people with a job who lives on the money of his girlfriend/patron Marie. For me that is no specific reason to dislike a movie. Just like I cannot identify myself with Alexandre I cannot with Hannibal Lector for example. There's no necessity to feel sympathy for the characters to make a good movie. For me it feels that Eustache cancelled all the practices that could distract the viewer from the dialogs, so no color, no movement and no editing. So let's concentrate on the characters and what they say. As I mentioned Alexandre is a layabout who spends his days hanging around in café's, flirting with women and listening to old recording by Marlene Dietrich or Edith Piaf. He is full of self-pity and believes that every recent historical event has happened to add misery to his live. He dislikes the people with regular jobs and a homely life. But in fact all he really wants is to live that kind of life with his former lover Gilberte. There's some talking that he abused her before she ran away from him, although I found that hard to believe regarding his passive character. While still mourning about his loss of Gilberte he met Veronica, a woman who reminds him of his the girl he lost. In endless monologues their relationship evolves sometimes loving each other tenderly and alternately act very crude. Veronica is nymphomane looking for the love of her life. She loves Alexandre but she also now that he is not the lover she's looking for. At first Alexandre's other lover Marie is amused by his advances to Veronica but soon she become jealous. At the end Veronica penetrates in the live of Alexandre and Marie and a love triangle develops.At the end you feel some sympathy for Alexandre. Although he is very rude to the women in his life and he is a lazy bastard he is also a great narrator of stories and quite funny. Although he talks about 75% of the whole movie there are not a lot of things you know from his past before his relationship with Gilberte. Jean-Pierre Léaud did great acting in his role of Alexandre. It is said that he improvises a great part of his role. I also sympathize with Veronica. She's longing for the great love of her life but all she finds are men who wanna sleep with her. She can be very crude (especially when drunk) but also very tender. The last scene hints at a pregnancy of her, probably with Alexandre as the father. For me it is impossible to say how the relationship between Alexandre and his two lovers should continue. It is clear that he needs Marie (and her money) to patron him. He loves her as a mother but what he really longs for is a pure woman like Gilberte. Sometimes Veronica reminds him of her but sometimes he is disgusted with her. I don't think that there is a very bright future for Alexandre. His relationship with Veronica creates a wedge in his relationship with Marie so in the end he will lose both his patron and his whore.Like I said I watched the movie in parts. It's certainly not easy entertainment but if you push through the beginning (Oh no! Not that kind of movie!) you are rewarded with a fine psychological drama. But if I have to compare it to other French movies of the Nouvelle Vague and the New Wave and if I look at all the reasons to dislike it I think that Eustache missed a masterpiece by ignoring the art of cinema and focusing on the art of dialogue.

dr_alexander_reynolds Well, as Goethe once said, there really isn't any point in trying to pass a negative judgement that aspires to be objective on "something that has had a great effect". "La Maman et La Putain" has surely passed into history as an influence on much of what's been done in France and elsewhere in the past thirty years and no one interested in the history of film, certainly, should be dissuaded from watching it. To express a purely subjective judgement, however, I feel compelled to disagree with almost every other review posted here and say to people: "Don't watch it; it's a waste of hours of your time that will just leave you feeling rather sick and angry." And by that I don't mean "sick and angry" about "the human condition" or anything so general and profound as that, because that is exactly the line that most critics have adopted in their fulsome praise of the film - "an ordeal to watch in its ruthless dissection of our emotional cowardice and cruelty" and so on - and, if it really managed to put across a universally or even broadly relevant message of this sort, then the director would have good reason to be satisfied with himself, however pessimistic his conclusions may be. My beef with the film is rather that I don't see this hours-long record of empty vanity and petty treachery as being justified or excused by any GENERALLY relevant message at all. All three main characters are deeply morally unattractive individuals: Alexandre to the greatest degree, of course, because we see by far the most of him and because he seldom shuts up for more than thirty seconds; Marie perhaps to the least degree, because we see the least of her. Alexandre's affected and pretentious monologues have a kind of amusement value, of course, but the amusement wears thin as one comes more and more clearly to realize that Jean-Pierre Léaud is most likely not even acting and that, with absurd remarks like "un homme beau comme un film de Nicholas Ray", he really was just reproducing word-for-word opinions that were accepted as authentic and profound by the milieu in which he, along with the director Eustache, had been living for about ten years by the time of the making of the film. I suppose if the tone of relentless superficiality and triviality had been sustained throughout 100% of the film, it might have worked as a long sardonic comedy about a particularly shallow, worthless and despicable post-'68 milieu. What made, however, this viewer at least extremely angry with the director was his granting of at least one lengthy scene each to Alexandre and Veronika in which we are clearly expected to empathize with and feel for them as if they shared a moral universe with us. If a man can get away with living in the flat of and professing to love one woman, sleeping (mostly in this very flat) with another, and running around Paris proposing marriage to yet a third, well, I suppose I can wish him the best of luck in the dog-eat-dog world he's chosen to create for himself. What I can't, however, in all conscience do is listen even for a moment to maudlin monologues from him in which he speaks about his "anxiety" and his "despair". The same goes double for the even more despicable Veronika, whom we are shown barging drunk into the apartment and even the bed shared by Marie and Alexandre and behaving there with an infantile inconsistency tantamount to the most savage and heartless cruelty. As I say, if "La Maman et La Putain" is intended to be nothing more nor other than a portrait of Alexandre, Veronika and Marie, three individuals whom any even halfway decent person would never admit into their company let alone their home, then I suppose there is a kind of legitimacy in praising the director for being "unflinching" (though why one should even feel like "flinching" once one had consciously opted to create such thoroughly repellent characters to filmically observe I can't imagine). The problem, however, is that the director is clearly convinced - and appears to have succeeded in convincing generations of critics - that Alexander, Veronika and Marie are somehow representative of human beings in general and of the limits of human beings' emotional capabilities. This latter idea, however, is arrant and offensive nonsense. There may indeed be an inherent fallibility and tendency to tragedy in human relations in general and sexual relations in particular. But the nature and degree of this fallibility and tendency to tragedy can only possibly be determined by people who make a sincere and serious effort to make such relations work. It surely needs no cinematic or authorial genius to convey to us the information that a man who behaves like Alexandre is going to end up hated, miserable, and alone, or that women who insist on expecting love from a man like Alexandre are going to end up disappointed and bitter. Watch "La Maman et La Putain" if you're historically interested in what passed for culture and human interaction in a certain post-'68 Parisian milieu which was probably, unfortunately, not restricted to just a few particularly anti-social types like these. But please don't make the mistake of believing that what is recorded here has any general relevance for humanity in the way that a film by Jean Renoir or Martin Scorsese might be argued to have.

hasosch Unfortunately, Jean Eustache (1938-1981) belongs like so many once leading French film makers nowadays to the great unknown ones whose movies are hard to find and are not released on international DVDs. Since we have a good old-fashioned video-store in Tucson, I had the chance to watch this 3 1/2-hour marathon masterwork that is not boring for ten seconds.Since we speak here about one of the most discussed (and most controversially discussed) movies of all times, let me tell you my impression that the endless dialogs, originally typical for the early "Nouvelle Vague" of a Jacques Rivette or Alain Resnais appear almost ridiculous in this movie. The dialogs are basically monologues, mainly the longest ones spoken by Jean-Pierre Léaud. The most characteristic feature is that the intersections of the speeches of two people is almost zero. Léaud, or his character, Alexandre, pleases to tell more about himself than about the topics he is seemingly to speak. Therefore, one can hardly speak about communication in this movie. It is well possible that the director had a gargantuan satire in mind against the idle running of the once so hotly discussed political and sociological ideas, but the type of man Alexandre exists to all times, we find him already in Petron's "Satiricon", which work has actually great resemblance with "The Mother and the Whore".Alexandre does not only nothing, but he has developed an own kind of metaphysics about the absence of acting, at least acting in the sense of responsibility toward the society whose part he is. He mocks at the people who run to work at 7 c'clock in the morning, when he is just busy having his last drink before he goes to bed in the apartment of one of his girlfriends from whose money he lives. He is unable to speak one sentence without quoting one of the leading thinkers between Nietzsche and Bernanos. Especially Sartre who is shown quickly in the French intellectual café "Aux Deux Magots", where Alexandre, too, is sitting all day, must serve as excuse for the life-style of Alexandre and his colleagues, because they suffer existential crisis from bourgeois nausea. However, the intellectual speeches of Alexandre seem to be rather pseudo-intellectual, and the sentences and quips he cites seem to come rather from a dictionary of quotations than from his actual reading of the respective books.It is true: This movie demands an extremely broad European knowledge, especially the connoisseurship of French existentialist philosophy and there consequences to the 68 student revolution movement, but if you have this knowledge, than you will enjoy 215 minutes of your life by staring amazed into the TV and crying out with laughing like you have probably not done it since a long time.

MisterWhiplash In what could have been seen as a coup towards the sexual "revolution" (purposefully I use quotations for that word), Jean Eustache wrote and directed The Mother and the Whore as a poetic, damning critique of those who can't seem to get enough love. If there is a message to this film- and I'd hope that the message would come only after the fact of what else this Ben-Hur length feature has to offer- it's that in order to love, honestly, there has to be some level of happiness, of real truth. Is it possible to have two lovers? Some can try, but what is the outcome if no one can really have what they really want, or feel they can even express to say what they want? What is the truth in the relationships that Alexandre (Jean-Pierre Leaud) has with the women around him? He's a twenty-something pseudo-intellectual, not with any seeming job and he lives off of a woman, Marie (Bernadette Lafont) slightly older than him and is usually, if not always, his lover, his last possible love-of-his-life left him, and then right away he picks up a woman he sees on the street, Veronika (Françoise Lebrun), who perhaps reminds him of her. Soon what unfolds is the most subtly torrid love triangle ever put on film, where the psychological strings are pulled with the cruelest words and the slightest of gestures. At first we think it might be all about what will happen to Alexandre, but we're mistaken. The women are so essential to this question of love and sex that they have to be around, talking on and on, for something to sink in.We're told that part of the sexual revolution, in theory if not entirely in practice (perhaps it was, I can't say having not been alive in the period to see it first-hand), was that freedom led to a lack of inhibitions. But Eustache's point, if not entirely message, is that it's practically impossible to have it both ways: you can't have people love you and expect to get the satisfaction of ultimate companionship that arrives with "f***ing", as the characters refer over and over again. The Mother and the Whore's strengths as far as having the theme is expressing this dread beneath the promiscuity, the lack of monogamy, while also stimulating the intellect in the talkiest talk you've ever seen in a movie. At the same time we see a character like Alexandre, who probably loves to hear himself talk whether it's about some movie he saw or something bad from his past, Eustache makes it so that the film itself isn't pretentious- though it could appear to be- but that it's about pretentiousness, what lies beneath those who are covering up for their internal flaws, what they need to use when they're ultimately alone in the morning. If you thought films like Before Sunrise/Sunset were talky relationship flicks, you haven't met this. But as Eustache revels in the dialogs these characters have, sometimes trivial, or 'deep', or sexual, or frank, or occasionally extremely (or in a subdued manner) emotional, it's never, ever uninteresting or boring. On the contrary, for those who can't get enough of a *good* talky film, it's exceptional. While his style doesn't call out to the audaciousness that came with his forerunners in the nouvelle vague a dozen years beforehand, Eustache's new-wave touch is with the characters, and then reverberating on them.This is realism with a spike of attitude, with things at time scathing and sarcastic, crude and without shame in expression. All three of the actors are so glued to their characters that we can't ever perceive them as 'faking' an emotion or going at all into melodrama. It's almost TOO good in naturalistic/realism terms, but for Eustache's material there is no other way around it. Luckily Leaud delivers the crowning chip of his career of the period, and both ladies, particularly Labrun as the "whore" Veronika (a claim she staggeringly refutes in the film's climax of sorts in one unbroken shot). And, as another touch, every so often, the director will dip into a quiet moment of thought, of a character sitting by themselves, listening to a record, and in contemplation or quiet agony. This is probably the biggest influence on Jim Jarmusch, who dedicated his film Broken Flowers to Eustache and has one scene in particular that is lifted completely (and lovingly) in approach from the late Parisian.Sad to say, before I saw Broken Flowers, I never heard of Eustache or this film, and procuring it has become quite a challenge (not available on US DVD, and on VHS so rare it took many months of tracking at various libraries). Not a minute of that time was wasted; the Mother and the Whore is truly beautiful work, one of the best of French relationship dramas, maybe even just one of the most staggeringly lucid I've seen from the country in general. It's complex, it's sweet, it's cold, it's absorbing, and it's very long, perhaps too long. It's also satisfying on the kind of level that I'd compare to Scenes from a Marriage; true revelations about the human condition continue to arise 35 years after each film's release.