Review of 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her

2 or 3 Things I Know About Her is a French film made in 1967 by the director Jean-Luc Godard. I went to see it because the noted film reviewer Vincent Canby gave it a rave review in The New York Times. Well, it's lucky for him that he died about 6 years ago because if he were here today, I'd kill him. This film is Merde. That's French for Poop! Non? Oui, oui! I don't care what Monsieur Canbeee or any of zee fancy schmancy critics say.

The lead actress, a Julie Newmar look-a-like (she's the original cat woman from the 1960's TV show Batman) who exhibits the biggest, blankest expression throughout this trivial, trite film is the least interesting thing in an even less interesting movie. The voice-over is actually a wheesper-over of the most irritating and pretentious kind - Look at zee trees - zee foliage - attempting to persuade us, ever so softly, that the meaning of life is in zee leaves - or in zee hairuhfzee lovely madame. She looks to zee left, it means nothing - she looks to zee right, it means nothing - she meets her mechanic husband in zee gas station where he works, it means nothing.

Nothing, over and over again. Ad nauseum. Blechhhh. Like Seinfeld without the wit or punchlines...or meaning for that matter. So what exactly happens in this movie? If I said "not a whole lot," I'd be lying. Nothing is what happens in this dull, deadening snore of a film. It sapped the life out of me. My wrinkled carcass, drained of all joie de vivre, lay in a mound on the theatre seat by the time Fin (that's French for OVER AND OUT) flickered on the screen. I would repeat one of the meaningless title cards but I can't remember any of them. My eyes were losing focus and starting to drift off to sleepy time with each scene change. Sacre bleu, this film blew! At least the Umbrellas of Cherbourg had singing to keep me awake...but this?