Rating summary

Movie		4.0
Video		3.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		1.0
Overall		4.0

My Journey Through French Cinema Blu-ray Movie Review

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman December 15, 2017

My Journey Through French Cinema isn’t just a fascinating and heartfelt general and (perhaps more importantly) personal history lesson from Bertrand Tavernier, it’s also an interesting intellectual exercise in the very notion of what a “national” cinema means. It might be an interesting experiment to ask various cineastes what they think of when questioned about what various nationalities bring to mind when considering the history of film. For example, my hunch is that when asked about Italian film history, at least some of these imaginary poll takers would probably mention Neorealism, or perhaps giallo, or even individually iconic filmmakers like Federico Fellini, Roberto Rossellini, and/or Mario Bava. And as for the French? Well of course there are legendary French filmmakers like Jean Cocteau, Jean Renoir, Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut, the last two names also stirring recognition of one of the biggest “movements” in the entire history of film, the so-called Nouvelle Vague. In that regard, it’s kind of ironic then that one of the first things I personally think about when I consider French cinema is not any of the legendary films that came out of the country, or indeed any of the many iconic directors whose works helped form my own knowledge of international film, but instead of so-called “auteur theory”. While the very attribution “auteur theory” is at least sometimes credited to American critic Andrew Sarris, it of course stemmed from some of the iconic writing found in French journals like Cahiers du Cinéma. Tavernier worked with Godard, one of the titans of Nouvelle Vague, though kind of interestingly (and saliently with regard to this documentary) as a publicist instead of as someone actually helping to make the film. Tavernier has a long history as a writer, and he has in fact both written and directed (as well as produced) quite a few of the films he’s made over the years. Tavernier brings that same “essayist” quality to My Journey Through French Cinema, dealing both with general outlines of his country’s filmmaking past as well as his own personal history.

With absolutely no disrespect intended, it’s notable that Tavernier lists John Ford as one of his influences, and one might wonder if subliminally that influence might be traced to the fact that Ford famously had to wear an eyepatch after losing sight in one of his eyes. As can be seen in some of the screenshots accompanying this review, Tavernier himself has eye problems, something he talks about early in My Journey Through French Cinema, though I have to say his evident blaming of “retinal problems” on what was reportedly childhood Tuberculosis seems a bit odd to me (but, then again, I’m no doctor). Tavernier speaks about having spent much of his childhood in “sanitariums”, and in fact mentions how Sunday night movie celebrations at one of these institutions helped foster his love of film.

It’s wonderful in a way to hear Tavernier speak about indelible images that imprinted on his young mind, and how in the pre-internet age it took him years to finally find out which films he had been exposed to as a kid that had made such an impression. That leads into what might be termed the “official” tour through French cinema, or at least Tavernier’s intersection with it, with a long segment on a director whom I have a hunch not that many American film fans will be overly familiar with, Jacques Becker. This might seem to be a completely odd place for My Tour Through French Cinema to start, especially when considering the fact that Tavernier himself worked with any number of hugely influential French filmmakers, including the aforementioned Jean-Luc Godard (who provides an epigram for the film), Jean-Pierre Melville and Eric Rohmer, and (as is detailed in a number of really charming anecdotes delivered by Tavernier) at least hobnobbed with any number of other notables like the aforementioned Jean Renoir or one of Renoir’s preferred leading men, Jean Gabin (many of these people are covered, albeit later in the documentary). But that potential odd starting point only tends to point out the “my” in the documentary’s title, since it turns out that it was in fact one of Becker’s films that more or less blew Tavernier’s mind as a little boy when he was isolated in a remote hospital due to his eye issues (and other health concerns).

There is an absolute glut of fantastic material in this piece, including tons of clips, advertising memorabilia, other stills and archival video of things like Renoir discussing some of his films. Tavernier weaves a somewhat complex story at times, especially as he attempts to analyze the techniques of some of his various directors, but this is an intimate and beautifully sincere piece which should appeal to film lovers of any nationality.

While it doesn’t really hint at the depth and breadth of the documentary, the following chapter stops listed in Cohen’s insert booklet give at least some idea of the wide array of content Tavernier covers:

• Jacques Becker
• Jean Delannoy
• Jean Renoir
• Jean Gabin
• Marcel Carne
• Composers 1
• Composers 2
• Eddie Constantine & Jean Sacha
• Francois Truffaut
• Edmond T. Greville
• Jean-Pierre Melville
• Claude Chabrol
• Jean-Luc Godard
• Claude Sautet

My Journey Through French Cinema Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

My Journey Through French Cinema is presented on Blu-ray courtresy of Cohen Media Group with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in a variety of aspect ratios (as befits the many clips included in this "tour"), but all of which play out in a 1.85:1 frame (i.e., look at some of screenshots of scenes in or near Academy Ratio, like numbers 3, 5, and 9, and you'll see the small "1.85:1 black bars" running horizontally across the top and bottom). The contemporary interview footage with Tavernier fares best, but I have to say not even these sequences look stunning, though sharpness and clarity are well above average and detail levels are generally appealing. I'm not quite sure what to make of the many film clips, though, since at least some of them are in extremely poor shape, and despite this being a supposed progressive presentation, all sorts of combing artifacts show up (see screenshots 18 and 19). Things like sharpness, clarity, contrast and brightness are all extremely variable throughout the many clips featured in the documentary. (I'm wondering if some of these clips at least were actually sourced from video.) The historical importance of so many of these clips certainly outweighs some of the technical limitations of their presentation, but some videophiles might be wishing the documentarians had been able to find better looking source elements for at least some of the clips.

My Journey Through French Cinema Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

While My Journey Through French Cinema features a DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 track, there's really very little surround activity at play, since so many of the older film clips feature mono soundtracks and since so much of the interstitial material is simply Tavernier talking about the films or his life. Fidelity is fine throughout, with an understanding that some of the oldest film clips have typically boxy or even at times slightly damaged sounding moments.

My Journey Through French Cinema Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• And the Journey Continues. . . (1080p; 12:43) is an appealing interview of Tavernier conducted by Jean Ollé-Laprune.


• Theatrical Trailer (1080p; 1:27)

My Journey Through French Cinema Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Even if you're unfamiliar with Bertrand Tavernier or in fact have no abiding history in French cinema as a whole, you may want to consider checking out this wonderfully intimate "tour". Tavernier is an extremely astute analyst of style, and some of his comments on "little" things like Renoir's use of tracking shots will delight those who pay attention to items like framings and camera movements. Tavernier's personal asides are also often quite touching and even informative. Video is a little spotty on this one, and some may wonder why a lossless surround track was included (not that I'm complaining, mind you). Highly recommended.