"Jules et Jim"

I saw this one way back in the early days of film school, so I didn't really remember it at all.

One thing that struck me early on was how much Catherine reminded me of a certain someone in my past -- which was probably rather intentional, as the archetype probably fits at least one classic stereotype that can apply to just about any woman that a man might be infatuated with.

After the first hour or so, though, the correlation grew fainter, to the point of being almost alien. Yet, as out-of-my-league as the situation progressed, it was still a compelling and involving tale.

There wasn't a lot for me to identify with when it comes to this sort of sordid 3-way romance; heck, I have a lot of trouble with most 2-ways. But still, Truffaut knows how to paint the screen with the various shades of grey that make up a situation and make it stick with you despite your ability to put yourself in the frame.

The ending struck me as being almost a relief, though. It's rather tragic; a little bit unexpected (yet expected), but when it happens, you feel that "it was probably for the best". A very unusal sort of reaction to what happened, yet it seemed engineered to bring you to that conclusion.

On a less-than-contemplative, and totally-self-indulgent level, I find myself *really* wanting to finally go to Paris during the early half of this film. I know "Noir" is really the reason, but it doesn't help when I watch films like this. And the fact that what "Noir" makes me want to do interferes (though just a little) with watching artsy films means that I have a bit of an obsession problem that I'd better work out one of these days.