Jules and Jim review – a searching masterpiece of love, friendship and loyalty

The cinema of François Truffaut helped to define the French New Wave as a movement of modernity, sensitivity, and real affection for its characters – perhaps none more so than in his iconic 1962 ménage à trois romance Jules and Jim, now re-released in cinemas as part of the BFI's Truffaut season. Like so many of his films, it grapples with the profound nature of relationships, and stands as a timeless testimony to the human condition and the relentless pursuit of love, friendship, and loyalty. It feels as vital as ever.

Jules and Jim spans 25 years in the lives of friends Jules (Oskar Werner) and Jim (Henri Serre) as the pair find their relationship tested not only by the onset of World War I but by the beautiful and beguiling Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) and their shared desire to have her. Originally written by Henri-Pierre Roché, the story is a charming yet poignant tale that swiftly moves through meditations on French culture to the ephemeral nature of companionship. Truffaut originally read the original novel in 1955 when he was 23 and it stayed with him through his formative years.

The world of this film is initially rendered as a romantic one: Paris is captured in all its beauty by way of Raoul Coutard’s dazzling cinematography, the city depicted with the same vibrancy as Truffaut’s best well-known film The 400 Blows. Whether it's the diegetic sounds and location shooting at a Parisian brasserie, or a flowing single-take as Catherine runs across over a bridge in one of the film's most iconic sequences, the film moves with a mesmerising fluidity, emphasising both its modernity and its characters' search for love. All the while, Catherine – played with vitality by Moreau – is essential to the action, whether she's spontaneously jumping into the Seine or searching for the affections of any man she comes across.

Such clear movement behind and in front of the camera is later juxtaposed in the stillness found in Jules and Catherine’s shift to the countryside in rural Germany. Yet Coutard and Truffaut’s experimentation of the boundaries of cinema does not simply end upon a retreat from Paris. Instead, frames are edited to expand from left to right and are presented as malleable textural items, imbuing the relationship between the central characters with an abundance of joy.

The inherent melancholy felt in the film’s last few moments offers an insightful reflection on the transitory quality of existence. Absent are the flowing takes and joyful smiles that have come to define Jules and Jim and their time with Catherine. What remains of the trio is a memory of youthful happiness, sorrowfully present in the film’s final location, the Paris Père-Lachaise cemetery. Tragedy eventually strikes these three lovers and the ending is one of Truffaut’s most affecting – a sudden reminder to make the most of life as it inevitably passes us by.

Jules and Jim is now showing in select UK cinemas.