Rent L'Atalante and the Films of Jean Vigo (1934)

Poetic Realism (on L'Atalante). - L'Atalante and the Films of Jean Vigo review by Steve

Low budget arthouse romance long acclaimed by critics and film makers. It's a simple rustic folk tale which feels like a salty, enduring ballad by Jacques Brel. Maurice Jaubert's waltz played on accordion is prominent. A young, unworldly couple marry and start a life together on his working barge.

And they go through a period of adjustment. The groom (Jean Dasté) is rough, and jealous and unromantic. The impulsive bride (Dita Parlo) is frustrated and aware of a more pleasant life out there, somewhere. Maybe in the fashions and dancehalls of Paris.

But they love each other. For guidance she draws on a raucous boatman who has experience of the world but lives like a complacent beast. He's played by Michel Simon who is a legend in French cinema and he gives the film its flavour. Dasté and especially Parlo bring the pathos.

It begins like social realism on the oily Seine, but gradually enters a state of enchantment. In that respect it evokes FW Murnau's 1927 silent masterpiece, Sunrise. This isn't as great but it is unique and haunting and beguiling. And reminds us once more of what a magical medium cinema is.

Drifting Toward Beauty: Vigo’s Brief, Brilliant Voyage - L'Atalante and the Films of Jean Vigo review by griggs

A river barge drifts past, carrying with it a strange mix of poetry and grit. What makes L’Atalante so striking isn’t the story—newlyweds adjusting to married life afloat—but how Jean Vigo frames it. Every shot feels like it’s been breathed into existence: mist, water, movement, all in service of atmosphere rather than plot mechanics. Pere Jules, with his cluttered cabin of oddities and tattoos that seem to have their own personalities, steals scenes with anarchic charm, while the kittens scampering around the deck add a touch of scruffy magic.

It’s all the more heartbreaking knowing Vigo never saw his vision embraced—dead at 29, dismissed by critics, only to be rediscovered later as a minor miracle of cinema. You sense what he might have gone on to create. Direction is the real star here: lyrical, inventive, and playful even in its melancholy. Beauty lies in the drift, not the destination.