The Nouvelle Vague in Reservoir Dogs: Godard, dialogue and formal freedom

The influence of the Nouvelle Vague in Reservoir Dogs can be seen in working references and in a way of handling crime cinema. The film dedicates its opening to a conversation that delays the robbery itself, turns the criminals' voices into part of the spectacle, and allows an appealing image of the group to coexist with unpleasant behaviour. That freedom to shift the focus helps us understand the relationship with French cinema.

Godard provides a recognisable reference within that set. The connection makes it possible to examine how Tarantino combines criminal stories with moments that seem to escape the urgency of the plot. A musical remark, an everyday discussion or a joke can take on a length that alters expectations about what deserves to occupy the screen.

It is necessary to distinguish that affinity from a specific technical claim. Disturbing chronology and making a continuity break within a scene are different devices. The presence of chapters and flashbacks in Reservoir Dogs does not of itself make its editing a collection of jump cuts by Godard.

Godard as a working reference

À bout de souffle, known as Breathless, was directed by Jean-Luc Godard in 1960. The Criterion catalogue presents it as a reworking of the American genres that interested the filmmaker. That starting point makes it possible to place the comparison: crime cinema can provide recognisable characters and situations, while the direction transforms the way they are presented and the time it gives them.

Tarantino explained to Gavin Smith that he found Godard's cinema liberating because it could comment on films themselves without losing emotional connection: Film Comment, July-August 1994. That statement about his practice helps to interpret Reservoir Dogs. The characters may recall other fictions and project an image of toughness, while the film insists that we attend to the pain they cause or endure. Awareness of artifice coexists with consequences that affect relationships.

At the opening, the men discuss Madonna and tips before the job that brings them together is set out. The scene, as it appears in Reservoir Dogs —Quentin Tarantino, 1992—, presents a group through the ways it intervenes. The one who insists, cuts across a conversation or refuses to accept a rule acquires a position. The exchange might seem like a detour from the heist, but it allows us to recognise temperaments before the emergency brings them face to face.

A conversation that organises the gaze

Sekula attributed the circular movement that gradually reveals the diners to a proposal of his own; Tarantino had planned to alternate camera set-ups. Pizzello reported this in American Cinematographer. The camera can bring the viewer close to a conversation already under way without presenting each participant as if they were receiving an official turn. The group exists before we know how to classify it. That entrance favours attention shared between those speaking and those listening.

Duration allows a statement to receive a reply and that reply to alter the atmosphere. In a presentation limited to communicating the functions of the robbery, each intervention would serve to assign tasks. Here, too, it matters who manages to impose the subject and who irritates the others. The viewer learns to distinguish voices, even while still ignorant of their biographies. The looseness comes from leaving room for those frictions, which will later weigh heavily when the characters try to coordinate themselves.

The effect continues when the criminals come under pressure. Talking can calm an injured person, debate an explanation or stop a decision. A conversation then changes what someone is willing to do. The film allows time for responses because a refusal, an accusation or a change in trust can be as decisive as a physical action. This reading of the scenes makes it possible to relate formal freedom and dramatic construction without assigning every exchange to a specific French precedent.

Gangster style and the viewer's expectations

Betsy Heimann linked the costumes to the desire to pay homage to the Nouvelle Vague and give the thieves anonymity. The fragments Tarantino showed her guided the combination of dark jackets, white shirts and ties: interview in "Reservoir Dogs: Gangster Silhouette", Clothes on Film, published in 2017. That shared appearance is set against very different voices. The gang seems co-ordinated before its arguments reveal how difficult it is to act as a unit.

The presentation of the men allows us to recognise a cinematic type before we know the individuals. The contrast becomes uncomfortable when Orange appears injured and needs help: the criminal's toughness meets a vulnerable body. The shift requires moving from admiring a pose to listening to a plea. It can be analysed as a way of subjecting the gangster image to an experience that that image, on its own, does not explain.

The influence of the Nouvelle Vague on Tarantino's direction provides a context for this coexistence of stylisation and closeness. In Reservoir Dogs, one especially visible decision is to omit the robbery and focus on its consequences. The viewer receives a crisis before having all of its explanation. The film preserves the intensity of the crime story while changing which moments it develops, which information it delays and which characters can carry a scene with their voice.

The choice of aliases offers another example of how the film turns a genre convention into a comic situation. The colour names ought to simplify the group's organisation. However, they provoke objections and comparisons because each man is also concerned with the image his name conveys. A practical rule produces a scene about pride. The mechanism can be linked to a gaze that enjoys crime cinema and, at the same time, finds comedy in its rituals.

The anecdote Orange prepares in order to sound convincing adds a different issue: a character needs to learn how to tell a story. The interest lies in the construction of a performance within the fiction itself. That small story is useful to the person who tells it and has consequences for those who believe it. When considering the affinity with Godard, this combination of artifice and emotional effect is more precise than assigning a French origin to any striking cut. The relationship becomes productive when it helps describe what a scene does, as well as recognise a reference.