Jules Et Jim review

Tender and tragic, François Truffaut’s 1962 classic is one of the fondly remembered crests of the French New Wave. Alongside Jeanne Moreau’s radiant Catherine, its titular chums form two corners of cinema’s most famous ménage-à-trois. The trio’s carefree japes, spanning the First World War and an extended, blissful retreat to the countryside, are the perfect excuse for Truffaut’s liberating arsenal of freeze frames and kooky transitions. It feels a bit like a silent comedy given a very ’60s update, until the shift of affections within the triangle puts a strain on their idyll and sets the controls for heartbreak. Beautifully shot amid sun-dappled locations, Jules et Jim may lack the edge of Godard’s best, but nearly half a century on it remains as fresh as the proverbial daisy.