Happiness (original title: Le bonheur), directed by Agnès Varda in 1965, is a thought-provoking film that examines the nature of love, infidelity, and the pursuit of personal happiness. Set in the serene French countryside, it tells the story of François, a young carpenter who seems to have it all—a loving wife, two children, and a quiet, content life. But when he meets Emilie, a clerk at the local post office, his idea of happiness is called into question, and his life becomes more complicated than he ever imagined.
Watch Full Video below
François (played by Jean-Claude Drouot) leads an uncomplicated life with his wife Thérèse (Claire Drouot) and their two children. Their family is happy, their days are peaceful, and François is completely content with his simple, domestic life. But everything changes when he meets Emilie (Marie-France Boyer), a young woman he encounters at the post office.
François, overwhelmed by attraction, begins an affair with Emilie. The film follows François as he juggles his affection for Emilie with his continued love for his wife. He manages to keep both relationships separate, never revealing his affair to Thérèse, and seems to believe that his family life and his relationship with Emilie can coexist peacefully. He remains calm, untroubled by guilt, and even believes that both women—his wife and Emilie—can provide him with different aspects of happiness.
At its core, Happiness explores the tension between love, desire, and the complexity of human relationships. François seems to view his affair with Emilie as just another part of his life—a way to experience a different kind of happiness. He doesn’t seem to fully grasp the emotional impact of his actions on those around him, particularly on Thérèse, who remains blissfully unaware of his infidelity.
What’s striking about the film is François’ emotional detachment. He isn’t torn or conflicted about his relationships; instead, he believes he can separate them without consequence. This creates a chilling sense of emotional distance, as the film’s portrayal of love is devoid of intense passion or guilt. François’ approach to love is dispassionate, as if happiness is something he can simply arrange for himself like a set of building blocks—one for his family, one for his affair.
Agnès Varda’s use of color in Happiness is striking. The film is full of bright, vibrant hues—particularly warm yellows and greens—which contrast with the darker, more somber themes of the story. The sunny, idyllic landscapes and the bright clothes worn by the characters create an almost dreamlike atmosphere. This cheerful aesthetic sharply contrasts with the emotional undercurrents of the film, reflecting the way François' seemingly perfect life masks the deeper emotional conflicts and eventual tragedy that lie beneath.
The bright colors and serene visuals make the film’s darker themes even more striking, as they highlight the tension between external appearances and inner turmoil. The colors in the film suggest that while François’ life looks beautiful on the surface, it’s ultimately complicated by hidden desires and unspoken truths.
Despite its title, Happiness doesn’t offer a rosy or idealistic view of life. The film’s exploration of François’ pursuit of happiness through multiple relationships exposes the fragility and complexity of human desires. François may seem content, but his pursuit of happiness leads to unforeseen consequences, both for him and for those around him.
The tragedy of Happiness lies in the realization that François’ vision of a carefree, compartmentalized life cannot be sustained. The film suggests that the pursuit of personal happiness, if done without consideration for others, ultimately leads to emotional damage and loss. While François tries to hold onto both his family and his affair, the consequences of his actions become undeniable in the end.
Happiness is a film that challenges conventional notions of love and fidelity. Agnès Varda’s careful direction and use of color invite the viewer to reflect on the emotional complexities of human relationships. François’ quest for happiness, achieved through both his family and his affair, is ultimately a fragile one, showing that love and desire are not simple, straightforward emotions.
The film raises important questions: Can we truly find happiness while keeping our desires separate from our commitments? How much are we willing to sacrifice for our personal happiness, and what happens when we fail to acknowledge the emotional consequences of our actions?
Happiness offers no easy answers, but it leaves viewers with a lingering sense of emotional uncertainty, urging them to reflect on the nature of love, fidelity, and the choices that shape our lives. It’s a quiet, complex exploration of human desire that stays with you long after the credits roll.
If you’re looking for a film that challenges traditional ideas about love and infidelity, Happiness is a timeless exploration of the fragility of human emotions and the complexities of living authentically.
0 Comments