"We should start with a correspondence, maybe we will not correspond to one another. Ebrahim can send me a letter this Friday, and I'll answer him next Friday. So, see you Friday, Robinson!" And so, Jean-Luc Godard stages himself in his daily thought, wisely desperate, and sends images and words from Switzerland to the other side of the Channel. In his mansion in Sussex, Ebrahim Golestan tries to decode these UFO-messages and skilfully seeks to bring them back to the appearance of reason. And so on, until the day a veil falls over the two Gods on the run. Does the existence of poets still have any meaning in these times of distress?

"The idea is simple / A married woman and a single man meet / They love, they argue, fists fly / A dog strays between town and country / The seasons pass / The man and woman meet again / The dog finds itself between them / The other is in one, / the one is in the other / and they are three / The former husband shatters everything / A second film begins: / the same as the first, / and yet not / From the human race we pass to metaphor / This ends in barking / and a baby's cries / In the meantime, we will have seen people talking of the demise of the dollar, of truth in mathematics and of the death of a robin." -JLG

Rejecting the billions of alphabetic diktats to liberate the incessant metamorphoses and metaphors of a necessary and true language by re-turning to the locations of past film shoots, while keeping track of modern times.

In Le Livre d’Image, Jean-Luc Godard recycles existing images (films, documentaries, paintings, television archives, etc.), quotes excerpts from books, uses fragments of music. The driving force is poetic rhyme, the association or opposition of ideas, the aesthetic spark through editing, the keystone. The author performs the work of a sculptor. The hand, for this, is essential. He praises it at the start. “There are the five fingers. The five senses. The five parts of the world (…). The true condition of man is to think with his hands. Jean-Luc Godard composes a dazzling syncopation of sequences, the surge of which evokes the violence of the flows of our contemporary screens, taken to a level of incandescence rarely achieved. Crowned at Cannes, the last Godard is a shock film, with twilight beauty.

Live montage, originally conceived for the Picasso.mania exhibition at the Grand Palais, with the collaboration of Diana Widmaier-Picasso. Originally shown as three-screen montage.

An unexpected phone call from a certain Kirsch sets off a crisis between Catherine and Raphaël that will affect all those around them, be they close friends or casual acquaintances.

This way-offbeat comedy from Gallic director Jeanne Labrune concerns two young French women, best friends Léa and Jacinthe. While Jacinthe develops a fixation with the moths that begin to cluster in frightening quantities throughout her apartment, Léa finds herself drawn to a dim-witted fellow employed by a local supermarket, then impulsively decides to follow him home via train. When Léa mysteriously disappears during the days that follow, Jacinthe naturally grows concerned about her friend and decides to investigate.

A three-chapter (Hell, Purgatory and Paradise) meditation on the city of Sarajevo in the wake of the Bosnian war, on Palestine and Israel, and on war itself.

In French, "scénario" is cinema's name for how it tells stories. This is the title Jean-Luc Godard chose for his final film, which was literally completed the day before his self-death. The two segments of this film open with a series of identical sequences. The second segment then diverges and ends on a self-portrait of Jean-Luc Godard -his last images- sitting on his bed, bare-chested, he hides none of the wear on his body in the manner of Pigalle's sculpted portrait of Voltaire. "Scénarios" ends as it began, with a repetition, the figure of eternal return, the moment where time, which has been the great -if not unique- question of cinema, will have ceased to flow.

In October 2021, Jean-Luc Godard presented his idea for Scénario, a 6 chapter feature film combining still and moving images, halfway between reading and seeing.