This is a strange film, but a likable one. It asks the question: what would we do if all the great works of literature were suddenly lost? In a way, this is Jean-Luc Godard"s "Wasteland": in a manner not unlike the T.S. Eliot poem, Godard fills his work with quotes, allusions, and sometimes outright plagiarisms of his favorite works of art, literature, and film, including hommages to Robert Bresson's "Trial of Joan of Arc" and Grigori Kozintsev's "King Lear"; there's even a character named Kozintsev in the movie. Godard is not making a movie based on Shakespeare's "King Lear": he's making a movie about "King Lear." Godard has always considered himself an essayist rather than a storyteller, and the frequent use of captions, stills, and other distancing devices are reminiscent of his hero Bertold Brecht. Marxist rhetoric, though not absent, is less strident here than in some of Godard's earlier works. The movie is fun if occasionally irritating and often incomprehensible. Of the international cast, Molly Ringwald gives a touching performance as Cordelia, conveying much of her character's anguish through body language alone; Burgess Meredith reads Lear's lines with authority, and one wonders how he would have measured up in a more traditional interpretation of the play. The film hints at father-daughter incest, but there's no overt sexuality.
