Director/writer: Agnes Varda
Photography: Patrick Blossier
Music: Joanna Bruzdowicz
Editors: Patricia Mazuy, Agnes Varda
Cast: Sandrine Bonnaire, Macha Meril, Stephane Freiss, Laurence Cortadellas, Marthe Jarnias, Yolande Moreau, Joel Fosse
In some ways it feels like director and writer Agnes Varda grew more carefree and even whimsical over the course of her career. In this century she made gentle, freewheeling, perpetually curious documentaries like The Gleaners & I and Faces Places. By contrast, 1962’s Cleo From 5 to 7 is about a young woman awaiting results of a biopsy. Vagabond, between them, is about Mona (Sandrine Bonnaire), a runaway girl in rural France who finally dies of exposure—a sad and foredoomed story. Mona’s body is discovered at the beginning of the picture and the rest is flashback types of episodes. They follow the last months of her life as she hitchhiked from place to place, set up her tent, and lived her life as she could. These scenes are ostensibly based on journalistic interviews of those who interacted with and knew her—to the degree, of course, that anyone knew her. Varda’s instinct is often to go at least semi-documentary in tone.
We never see Mona in the home she ran away from. The picture is silent on her life before. We don’t hear from her family in these supposed interviews and we never hear why. Perhaps they just didn’t want to speak with interviewers, but it’s never explained. Varda is more interested purely in Mona’s life on her own and how she survives (and doesn’t) rather than potential details of domestic abuse and such. There is one scene here where it appears Mona is going to be assaulted at one of her campsites, but the picture quickly cuts away and we never hear anything of it again. It’s as if Varda wants us to know she’s aware of all the dangers of Mona’s life, but doesn’t want to dwell on them too much, doesn’t want the lurid details to distort what she wants us to see in Mona.
In some ways it feels like director and writer Agnes Varda grew more carefree and even whimsical over the course of her career. In this century she made gentle, freewheeling, perpetually curious documentaries like The Gleaners & I and Faces Places. By contrast, 1962’s Cleo From 5 to 7 is about a young woman awaiting results of a biopsy. Vagabond, between them, is about Mona (Sandrine Bonnaire), a runaway girl in rural France who finally dies of exposure—a sad and foredoomed story. Mona’s body is discovered at the beginning of the picture and the rest is flashback types of episodes. They follow the last months of her life as she hitchhiked from place to place, set up her tent, and lived her life as she could. These scenes are ostensibly based on journalistic interviews of those who interacted with and knew her—to the degree, of course, that anyone knew her. Varda’s instinct is often to go at least semi-documentary in tone.
We never see Mona in the home she ran away from. The picture is silent on her life before. We don’t hear from her family in these supposed interviews and we never hear why. Perhaps they just didn’t want to speak with interviewers, but it’s never explained. Varda is more interested purely in Mona’s life on her own and how she survives (and doesn’t) rather than potential details of domestic abuse and such. There is one scene here where it appears Mona is going to be assaulted at one of her campsites, but the picture quickly cuts away and we never hear anything of it again. It’s as if Varda wants us to know she’s aware of all the dangers of Mona’s life, but doesn’t want to dwell on them too much, doesn’t want the lurid details to distort what she wants us to see in Mona.
Vagabond mostly takes place in a rural wine-country region of France. Varda’s touch on feminist themes is light. Mona is an independent spirit, resilient and self-reliant, carrying a tattered rolled-up tent and pack with her and camping where she can. Like all the masses of adolescent males that precede and follow her she’s fairly competent at surviving on the land, from what we see. Many of her problems on the road are related to being female, and certainly our expectations for her are often for the worst. By 1985 I suspect the story of most runaways largely happened in cities, and that nagged at me a little as Vagabond goes along, even if Mona’s natural origins are in the country. She does end up in a city briefly toward the end of the film, but when she dies it’s back in the countryside.
Sometimes Mona feels a little like a spoiled teen—lazy, with an attitude, and doesn’t want to work. She always has some attitude, of course—she knows she has to front as tough the best she can wherever she goes. At other times she’s more willing to work for her keep, though obviously she’s unskilled and needs training and supervision at anything she’s given to do, such as helping to mind herd animals or trim vine plants. All the people she meets are interesting—a goat-herding couple, a middle-aged academic woman who is strangely attracted to her, a Tunisian migrant worker. This motley mix feels like a Varda specialty, taking in the wheel of life as it rolls by. The soundtrack can be surprising and fun, unexpected in this context, with songs by the Doors and other pop figures I don’t know, Passion Fodder, Les Rita Mitsouko, Valerie Lagrange.
Bonnaire earned a good deal of deserved acclaim for her performance as Mona. She carries the whole thing, appearing in most scenes. She was close to 18 when the picture was shot. She looks and feels full grown, more womanly than girlish, which lowers the temperature of anxiety a little on the part of viewers. She’s perpetually unwashed, encrusted with grime, hair unkempt and uncombed, clothes filthy. In the course of the picture her boots fall apart completely and she has to step carefully as she walks. Some people mention how bad she smelled.
In the end Vagabond is a grim fall into death for Mona, adrift in the world. Her life is pathetic in a way, in the certainty of her risks and the dangers of living the way she wants to. It didn’t have to be this way. Varda’s touch on the feminist aspects of this story is light but sure. A boy might have come to a bad end as well—they do all the time. But we know the odds are alarmingly higher for a girl, and Varda knows that we know it. The rest is imagining the kind of people she might have met, and following behind her to witness it. This is a hard movie to watch in some ways, but a very good one.
Sometimes Mona feels a little like a spoiled teen—lazy, with an attitude, and doesn’t want to work. She always has some attitude, of course—she knows she has to front as tough the best she can wherever she goes. At other times she’s more willing to work for her keep, though obviously she’s unskilled and needs training and supervision at anything she’s given to do, such as helping to mind herd animals or trim vine plants. All the people she meets are interesting—a goat-herding couple, a middle-aged academic woman who is strangely attracted to her, a Tunisian migrant worker. This motley mix feels like a Varda specialty, taking in the wheel of life as it rolls by. The soundtrack can be surprising and fun, unexpected in this context, with songs by the Doors and other pop figures I don’t know, Passion Fodder, Les Rita Mitsouko, Valerie Lagrange.
Bonnaire earned a good deal of deserved acclaim for her performance as Mona. She carries the whole thing, appearing in most scenes. She was close to 18 when the picture was shot. She looks and feels full grown, more womanly than girlish, which lowers the temperature of anxiety a little on the part of viewers. She’s perpetually unwashed, encrusted with grime, hair unkempt and uncombed, clothes filthy. In the course of the picture her boots fall apart completely and she has to step carefully as she walks. Some people mention how bad she smelled.
In the end Vagabond is a grim fall into death for Mona, adrift in the world. Her life is pathetic in a way, in the certainty of her risks and the dangers of living the way she wants to. It didn’t have to be this way. Varda’s touch on the feminist aspects of this story is light but sure. A boy might have come to a bad end as well—they do all the time. But we know the odds are alarmingly higher for a girl, and Varda knows that we know it. The rest is imagining the kind of people she might have met, and following behind her to witness it. This is a hard movie to watch in some ways, but a very good one.
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