The first few minutes are unpromising, the director expresses his desire to revolutionize cinema and catch up with the greats, and to demonstrate his credentials he reminds us that he is a poet and that he has published several works: we are shown one by one the covers of his now forgotten literary works, which seem to be included in an equally forgotten avant-garde style called lettrismo.

Then, and for half an hour, Isou repeats over and over again, through a voiceover, his revolutionary vision: cinema should be a kind of read text, on images with which this text has no connection. It is original, but it seems to us without a future and frankly wrong. In fact, after a few minutes we get bored listening to that voice while images of the author strolling through Saint Germain des Pres are endlessly repeated.

Unfortunately, Marguerite Duras will continue down those paths in some of her most boring films.

But Isou proposal is not without interest, and in fact Isou is a true pioneer who announces many of Godard's findings, or Marker's way of documenting. This in its second part, where we are told about the protagonist's relationship with a young Russian woman. And the truth is that interest arises when he abandons the radical nature of his attempt, which is gratuitous in itself, and what he does is partially dissociate spoken narration and image, without the separation being complete. Thus, when there is a clear divergence in the rhythm or character of the image, or when there seems to be a distant relationship in the contents. It is then that it seems that Isou opens the door to a world to explore.

The problem is that Isou doesn't seem aware of where the true interest of what he proposes lies, and that his findings alone cannot sustain interest for two hours. They are valid as a formal element, one of many, in a larger work (the future that Godard will give it), or because of the primary interest in the narrated content (Marker's documentaries), that is, they require talent beyond just being an innovator.

The work then seems to me to have an unexpected significance, given its early date, and one of the novel contributions to experimental cinema since the advent of talkies.

I'll say this much: though I don't necessarily agree with every last idea that filmmaker Isidore Isou puts forth in this cinematic manifesto, nor could it possibly be said that he is entirely wrong. Humans exist by improving upon what has come before, and by innovating; even in a life of relative comfort one can posit ways in which it is nevertheless a truism that to innovate is to live: philosophically, socially, politically, culturally, existentially. Not to mention artistically: it seems more important still, as a fundamental element of any medium, that art must grow, change, and explore new avenues of creation or risk becoming stale and fruitless. In any aspect of life the very act of demonstrating such progress, or advocating for it, or even holding the thought in one's mind - or, conversely, wholly refusing it - separates people into adversarial camps of the stubborn and the forward-thinking, the regressive and the radical, the conservative and the progressive. Subsequently, it stands to reason that any real advancement will be opposed in one manner or another, and may even offend the sensibilities of existing convention, as well as the sensibilities of those who cling desperately to existing convention, or who in some fashion may be the arbiters thereof. Any real advancement is in some measure an act of destruction by which to forge something that is unfettered by precedent, or a past; to that same point, like any movement or set of ideas, Lettrist ideals could be employed for ends both beneficial and malicious. I part with Isou insofar as I don't think "the old," or "old" methods, are entirely obsolete, especially in the relevant case of cinema, but in bits and pieces and even in wider strokes of the proverbial pen there is genuine wisdom in 'Traité de bave et d'éternité.' This is, after all, rather interesting for the movie that it is.

This is the brunt of this 1951 experimental feature - the illumination of the movement Isou established, and specifically its principles where art and cinema are concerned. This illumination is borne out through a steady stream of dialogue that is very deliberately almost entirely divorced from the imagery presented to us. While the picture is ostensibly divided into three segments, that verbal through-line weaves a loose narrative of its own as "Daniel" recollects the prior evening's discussion at a film society, reflects on romantic encounters and how they stem from or relate to either such societies or his proposed ideals, and encounters other individuals who have in some way been party to those incidents previously brought up. The accompanying imagery, meanwhile, progress from footage of Isou ("Daniel") meandering through Parisian streets, to stock manipulated in ways that the man is championing. Such visual illustration is intriguing in and of itself for the possibilities it excites in one's imagination; consider, for example, how Olivier Assayas adopted a very Lettrist approach for a particular segment in his 1996 film 'Irma Vep.' It's safe to say that the audio is the component of most import here, however, and not only is it a little fascinating, but when some Lettrist poetry is introduced into the mix, the result is almost mildly hypnotic.

With all this firmly in mind, I find myself doubting if 'Traité de bave et d'éternité' is the birth of a new era that Isou wanted it to be. As I say this I don't even mean the lack of visibility that Lettrism has had outside very limited circles, or its near invisibility even several decades later. In fairness, one might say that this film was intended only as a foundation, a harbinger, or that Isou was to some degree bound by those same conventions he sought to upend. However, I watch 'Venom and eternity,' as the common English title has it, and I'm a little nonplussed. I think there are enticing notions laid forth in these two hours, and driblets of sagacity that are worth further discussion. I don't think the work itself is revolutionary, though, nor necessarily the precepts or their inspiration. To create anew from the ashes of the old is an idea that has existed as long as human civilization, and is woven into nature itself. True, this is partly Isou's point, yet it's slightly paradoxical that the proposal of disposing of convention is itself a convention, and furthermore it begs the question of what place Lettrism has in the world. The practices applied to film footage to produce the imagery herein, and the underlying concept of separating sight and sound, also feel less than revelatory to me; maybe that's because such thoughts have been employed by filmmakers in subsequent years, indication of Lettrist influence - or maybe it's because such thoughts just aren't that special in the first place. It's also worth observing that 'Traité' was hardly the first or only title to ever prioritize messaging in its construction, and on top of all this, it comes across to me as more than a little self-indulgent. It's self-indulgent not just in the respect of an artisan upholding his craft, but also in Isou's proclamations of a coming paradigm shift, and even more so in inserted intervening text in which the man is effectively, albeit flailingly, defending himself, his picture, and his movement from his critics. (In the latter instances of such text, I can't help but think of Dante Alighieri describing, among the denizens of the Inferno, those contemporaries of his that he disliked.)

While they call into question the lasting utility of this piece, the harsher words I invoke aren't criticism per se, only part of what I think is a wider discussion of what Lettrism was, is, or could be, or how it could be applied to the art we enjoy or indeed to our lives. One way or another, 'Traité de bave et d'éternité' emphatically fits into that discussion, which I'm pretty sure is what Isou wanted to begin with. And having said all this, I can't imagine any scenario in which this feature will appeal to the average moviegoer. This is something for the ardent cinephile who will watch anything, and even more than that it's for The Artist who wants to challenge themselves, and who wants to challenge the world with their own manifestations. This means Isou's first effort in this medium will go unseen by any but the most niche of audiences, or at least, hated by any but they. For those who are open to all the wide possibilities of what Film has to offer, however, this is worth checking out for something very different, and for what it gives us to ponder.