PICKPOCKET

The rising thrills and lasting follies of a want-to-be superman. 

The opening of Robert Bresson’s Pickpocket is upfront in pointing out the film’s intentions in its opening crawl before the story unfolds. Similar to the effects of that particular narrative device, the film draws you in with a ramping up of narrative questions with plain-worded narration and dialogue scenes. The aura it generated was dynamic in that my thoughts started to come in rhythm with the story as it unfolded; free to venture anywhere with the narrative or the cinematic style with no straying away from the screen. And with a runtime of 76 minutes, I’m sure watching it again would bring more different thoughts than I had in this first viewing. It is as though the text itself is rich with an abundance of substance you can chew hours over. Though that may not be the case, and instead a trick of the mind using the film as a catalyst; either way, the experience was pleasant. 

With all that said, once the film came to an end, I felt that given the subject matter and the story’s emotional devices, the result came across to me as immature. This is not, however, a description to put down Bresson’s cinematic techniques, approach, and complete body of work, nor should it be considered a negative critique of this singular film; in fact, I’m fond of the unripe dramatics of Pickpocket. Though, I did feel a kind of immaturity present within the piece. 

The commitment in both form and intention are huge factors in us bringing our steak in valuing its success in a singular viewing. Its dedication, however, to a philosophical agenda to portray the troubled people who are not destined for what they end up becoming ends up feeling a little hollow; as if the crawl in the beginning gave us as much context to the film’s intent as the rest of the film does. The main reason I feel this way is that Bresson’s ascetic approach actively avoids harnessing the power of subjective performances, luring us to fill the gaps ourselves; and having us add the emotional or psychological nuance to the characters in the story. This could be an integral part of Bresson’s approach. As a first viewing, I found the film took away the possibility of further stimulating thought around performance choices which had me desiring the kind of depth a good actor can bring to tragically realised characters which could enrich an affecting story like this. Of course, I’m aware that Bresson chose mainly non-actors or amateur performers for his roles, perhaps as a way to have a larger control over the performances.

However, this restraint inherent in Bresson’s style does not detract from the other aspects that form his commendable reputation. The camerawork and cutting rhythm are hugely satisfying in its set-piece moments, the thrilling well-choreographed pickpocketing scenes, particularly the ones where dozens of extras are skillfully utilised. The film also had a similar allure to some low-budget, contemporary first features like Christopher Nolan’s directorial debut The Following (1998), which came to mind on numerous occasions. Pickpocket is rough around the edges in places, and that helps add further texture to its world and does wonders in managing expectations. 

Although in the more “dramatic scenes” the performers act as though they are school kids who have been recently told off, the energy and the aura around its director’s approach makes for a memorable film-watching experience. The end reached an emotional high, and although my eyes weren’t wet with tears, I could feel my brain ticking over because of an interesting hold the film had on me. This hold came in and out throughout the film and because I was lost in the work in front of me consistently throughout, I gained a peculiar amount of pathos when the film hit its end. 

There’s something strange about that pathos that since watching it the simple thought of any image in Pickpocket has brought a kind of warmth that doesn’t exactly align with my initial response, which was of something cold and distant. I imagine I will revisit the film in due time, hopefully after I’ve seen more of Bresson’s work, and perhaps gain further appreciation for what’s on offer here. 

Watched the BFI Blu-ray, on December 18th 2023. This piece was written on December 20th 2023.