“Nouvelle Vauge”

While films about filmmaking tend to glaze over the minds of audiences less-enamored by the art, films specifically about process are in a whole other lane. A fascinating how-to guide for viewers on a work of perfection. But nobody could make Breathless (1960) again. Well, actually, they did in 1983. But with none of the impact. Breathless changed the art form, broke the norms, and introduced an entire genre to the world. Richard Linklater, a cinematic pioneer in his own youth, wants to dig deep into what made a masterpiece despite its unruly production with the answer being “listen to the director, don’t think about it, just do it.” A film is made five times: the conception, the script, the shooting, the editing, and when an audience sees it. Despite its current reputation, Breathless was not seen as a great film when first screened, as joked about in the last scene of Nouvelle Vague, but its presence in films to come was inevitably unmistakable. Linklater’s goal is to teleport back in time into the rooms where the discussions happened, where the cameras rolled, in-between takes, and in incredibly well-researched and magnificently-recreated fashion. An example of his love of making movies narrowly-focused on the production of one of the world’s greatest films with the most notoriously-difficult personality.

To recite the plot of Nouvelle Vague would be to just copy-paste the production notes from the Breathless Wikipedia page, but in short, Jean-Luc Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) is the last of the Cahiers du Cinema critics-turned-filmmakers to make a work of his own. After the release of The 400 Blows (1959), Francois Truffaut (Adrien Rouyard) is enlisted to write a film for Godard, which goes into production under the guidance of producer Georges de Beauregard or “Beau-Beau” (Bruno Dreyfurst), and casts Jean-Paul Belmondo (Aubry Dullin) and American actress Jean Seberg (Zoey Deutch) in the lead roles. Godard’s frustratingly improvisational directorial choices lead to a stretched-out schedule and a lack of cohesion between cast and crew, with Godard seemingly making everything up as he goes along. Despite their frustrations, Seberg in particular in absolute belief she was making a disaster, fun is still had. They joke, they dance, they begin to stop taking it seriously, and Linklater is able to perfectly crack the joy of what making a movie with a team is like, no matter what the end result is.

It’s a light and frothy time, nothing more, nothing less. Famous names appear scattered throughout (each with their own title cards, many just a one-second cameo, others important to the incoming scene) which may make cinethusiasts as giddy as a comic book fan watching a Marvel movie. Linklater shoots this in 35mm 4:3 black and white (so authentic you can smell the cigarette smoke radiating of the images) and fills the screen with a cast that could not be more identical to the figures of the past. Deutch and Dullin are note-perfect as the acting pair, Rouyard is a dead-ringer for Truffaut, but of course the film’s greatest achievement is Guillaue Marbeck as Godard, who not only looks exactly like him, but nails every single mannerism. Not once do you not believe that it isn’t Godard himself. In true Linklater fashion, his dialogue is spoken with such naturalist ease that he believably makes every scene feel like it was pulled from behind the scenes footage, the camera still rolling on Godard as he pisses off another studio head. Between this and his other (even better) 2025 release Blue Moon, he puts the magnifying glass on a self-righteous artist, one reflecting on his career at the end and one whose career is just about to begin. Much like those unfamiliar with Lorenz Hart, those unfamiliar with Godard or Breathless may remain unmoved and uninterested, but taken as an ode to filmmaking by and for cinephiles, it’s a spoonful of sugar.

Nouvelle Vague is currently in select cinemas and will stream on Netflix on November 14, 2025.

“In Your Dreams”

In an age where a streamer like Netflix can create a larger impact in the family film market recently as we’ve seen with K-Pop Demon Hunters than a giant decades-spanning studio like Disney, it’s fascinating to see Netflix attempt their own Disney-esque creation with former-PIXAR animator Alex Woo in the director and writer’s chair. While it appears to be a very personal work coming from Woo, even down to the St. Paul-born filmmaker setting the story in Minnesota, it can’t escape feeling like a hodge-podge of better films, particular those from the Mouse House, Franken-stitched together in a formulaic and trope-burdened fashion.

Stevie and Elliot (Jolie Hoang-Rappaport and Elias Janssen) are two young siblings facing what seems to be the end of their parent’s marriage. Their mother (Cristin Milioti) offered a college teaching job in Duluth and their musician father (Simi Liu) too committed to his band at home. When Elliot comes upon a magical book that transports him and his sister into the same dream realm, they discover that anything is possible, where anything can come true if they dream it. Elliot is even able to revive his long-lost stuffed toy Baloney Tony (Craig Robinson), who assists them on their journey. Stevie, intent on saving her parents’ marriage, must find The Sandman (Omid Djalili) in the hopes that he can make her dream a reality. While certain interesting wrinkles do shape the plot into something a bit more mature than expected, ultimately, it backtracks and the film itself is too afraid of “reality”.

Not keeping the fantasy elements contained to the dream world completely undoes what should be a heartfelt message for children of divorce. Once reality and fantasy merge, and more than just the two kids are involved in the action, the film takes the easy way out and strains its own plot logic. Ironically taking the opposite approach of last year’s Netflix divorce-themed animated film Spellbound (2024). It also doesn’t help that the parental conflict at the center isn’t all that challenging, which makes the overall story just feel weightless. It’s colorful and well-animated, though the basic Netflix character model design has gotten stale and it’s well-scored, though the soundtrack is filled with overplayed pop songs. Tender moments land, but most of its emotions feel telegraphed and unearned. There are funny jokes scattered throughout and the voice cast does an expert job at keeping the energy brisk (Hoang-Rappaport and Janssen are engaging young leads) but the character work is thin. But it will be nothing more than a 90-minute distraction for kids, clearly made with a lot of heart and no guts.

In Your Dreams is currently in select cinemas and will stream on Netflix on November 14, 2025.