By Polina Rouzova. Cover image by Myke Simon via unsplash.
There is something about French cinema that makes even the most ordinary moments feel extraordinary. A conversation in a Parisian café can become a philosophical debate, a love affair can turn into an existential crisis, and a young man wandering through the streets can change the history of filmmaking. During the late 1950s and throughout the 1960s, French directors began challenging established cinematic conventions, bringing a new sense of freedom to the screen and creating films whose influence can still be felt in contemporary cinema.
That spirit is also at the heart of France Odeon, Florence’s festival dedicated to French cinema, returning from 28 October to 1 November 2026 as part of the city’s 50 Giorni di Cinema a Firenze. Bringing French filmmaking into conversation with Italian audiences, the festival offers an opportunity to discover contemporary directors while revisiting the cultural legacy that helped make France one of cinema’s most influential creative centres. Whether you’re already obsessed with the Nouvelle Vague or simply want to understand why everyone still talks about Godard, Truffaut and Bardot, these five films are the perfect place to start.
Le Mépris (Contempt, 1963) — When Love Turns into Disillusionment
What happens when love slowly turns into contempt? In Jean-Luc Godard’s Le Mépris, a screenwriter, Paul Javal (Michel Piccoli), is hired to rewrite a film adaptation of Homer’s Odyssey, directed by Fritz Lang, who plays himself. As Paul becomes increasingly involved with the film’s demanding American producer, played by Jack Palance, his marriage to Camille (Brigitte Bardot) begins to fall apart. What unfolds is an intimate portrait of a relationship breaking down, set against the spectacular landscapes of Capri and the tensions of the film industry.
Based on Alberto Moravia’s novel, Le Mépris is one of Godard’s most visually striking works, with its saturated colours, expansive CinemaScope compositions and unforgettable score by Georges Delerue. Bardot, already an international icon, delivers a performance that reveals the emotional distance growing between two people who can no longer understand each other. Beyond its story of romantic disillusionment, the film explores the conflict between artistic freedom and commercial expectations, making cinema itself part of the drama. Watch it for Bardot, stay for Godard’s reflections on love and the compromises that can destroy it.
À bout de souffle (Breathless, 1960) — The Film That Broke All the Rules
A stolen car, a young criminal on the run and an American student selling newspapers on the Champs-Élysées: À bout de souffle sounds like a classic crime film, yet Jean-Luc Godard turned it into something radically different. Jean-Paul Belmondo plays Michel Poiccard, a small-time criminal fascinated by Humphrey Bogart, who flees to Paris after killing a police officer. There he reconnects with Patricia Franchini, played by Jean Seberg, hoping to persuade her to escape with him to Italy.
Released in 1960, Godard’s feature debut became one of the defining films of the French New Wave, challenging traditional editing through abrupt jump cuts and an unconventional narrative rhythm. Shot on the streets of Paris, it captured a new generation’s fascination with American popular culture and personal freedom. Seberg’s cropped haircut and striped T-shirts became enduring style references, while Belmondo’s rebellious attitude helped redefine the cinematic antihero. More than sixty years later, Breathless still feels surprisingly modern, reminding us that some of cinema’s greatest innovations began with the decision to ignore the rules.
Le Repos du guerrier (Love on a Pillow, 1962) — The Dark Side of Desire
Brigitte Bardot returns in a very different love story, one that explores the dangerous attraction of a destructive relationship. In Roger Vadim’s Le Repos du guerrier, Geneviève (Bardot), a wealthy young woman, accidentally enters the wrong hotel room and discovers Renaud (Robert Hossein), a troubled man who has attempted suicide. After saving his life, she becomes increasingly involved with him, abandoning the security of her privileged world for a relationship marked by emotional instability and obsession.
Adapted from Christiane Rochefort’s novel, the film belongs to a provocative strand of early 1960s French cinema that explored sexuality and challenged conventional ideas of romantic relationships. Vadim, who had previously directed Bardot in And God Created Woman (1956), places her at the centre of a story where desire becomes a source of vulnerability. Seen today, the relationship invites a critical reading of emotional dependence and destructive behaviour, raising questions about the difference between romantic passion and the loss of personal freedom. It’s a revealing example of how French cinema confronted uncomfortable subjects long before conversations about toxic relationships became part of everyday culture.
Les Quatre Cents Coups (The 400 Blows, 1959) — Growing Up Means Breaking Free
Before coming-of-age films became a genre of their own, François Truffaut gave cinema one of its most memorable teenage protagonists. In Les Quatre Cents Coups, fourteen-year-old Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Léaud) struggles with an unhappy family life and a school system that seems determined to punish him rather than understand him. As his small acts of rebellion become increasingly serious, Antoine searches for a freedom that the adults around him seem unwilling to offer.
Released in 1959, Truffaut’s debut feature drew heavily on his own childhood and became one of the foundational works of the French New Wave. Its naturalistic performances and location shooting brought an unusual sense of intimacy to the screen, while Jean-Pierre Léaud’s portrayal of Antoine established a character Truffaut would revisit in several later films. The film’s famous final freeze-frame remains one of cinema’s most powerful endings, capturing the uncertainty of adolescence without offering an easy resolution. If you’ve ever felt misunderstood while growing up, Antoine’s story may feel unexpectedly familiar.
Un homme et une femme (A Man and a Woman, 1966) — The Romance That Defined a Generation
Two people meet by chance at their children’s boarding school in Deauville, and a simple encounter gradually develops into a love story shaped by memories of the past. Anne (Anouk Aimée), a widowed script supervisor, and Jean-Louis (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a racing driver who has also experienced loss, find themselves drawn to each other while struggling with the emotional weight of their previous relationships.
Claude Lelouch’s Un homme et une femme became an international sensation, winning the Palme d’Or at the 1966 Cannes Film Festival and two Academy Awards the following year. Its distinctive combination of colour and black-and-white cinematography, together with Francis Lai’s instantly recognisable soundtrack, helped create one of the most influential romantic films of the decade. Unlike the disruptive style of Godard or Truffaut, Lelouch embraces emotion through visual elegance and a deeply atmospheric approach to storytelling. Beneath its romantic imagery lies a surprisingly mature question: how do you allow yourself to love again when the past still feels present?
