Nouvelle Vague had its Canadian Premiere at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival. Netflix will release it in theaters on October 31, followed by its streaming premiere on November 14.

“Each film is made up of five different films: The film you write, the film you cast, the film you shoot, the film you edit, and the film you release.” That’s a line from Nouvelle Vague, spoken to Jean-Luc Godard as he’s about to begin production on his debut feature film, Breathless. Little did anyone know that it would become the apex not only of the French New Wave (for which this film takes its title), but also a pinnacle moment in the evolution of cinema. Sixty-five years later, director Richard Linklater, completing the back half of his 2025 double play after Blue Moon, is here to tell us all about.

The film they wrote is a simple one. “All you need to make a film is a girl and a gun,” is Jean-Luc’s strategy for getting the necessary financing. He’s written a scenario with New Wave superstars and fellow Cahiers du Cinéma critics Claude Chabrol (Le Beau Serge) and François Truffaut (The 400 Blows), a fast-paced story of a crook and a girl on the run. Writers Holly Gent, Laetitia Masson, Vincent Palmo Jr., and Michèle Pétin find humor in the criminal behavior that is required to get a film off the ground. Jean-Luc evades securing permits, giving story details to his crew, and never keeps a regular working schedule. It’s all a mystery, maintain the magic that is needed to make a work of art.

The film they cast was full of unknowns, except for the American expatriot Jean Seberg. Linklater applies the same logic, with Zoey Deutch, reuniting with the director after Everybody Wants Some!!, playing the Iowa-born star. She’s attracted to Godard’s whirlwind methods, mostly because they heavily clash with her recent work with the ultra-regimented Otto Preminger. Guillaume Marbeck marks one of the best feature acting debuts as Godard. He’s a dead ringer, complete with sunglasses that never come off and a partially receding hairline. There’s mischief in his (covered) eyes, and a sense of genius that persuades people to withstand his aloofness. A special shoutout should be given to Benjamin Clery as Jean-Luc’s assistant, Pierre Rissient, the comedic standout of the film.

The film they shot was in French, with a 4:3 aspect ratio and high-contrast black-and-white. It was a fast and cheap solution, keeping the production light on its feet and giving the story a down-and-dirty aesthetic. David Chambille’s cinematography here is a near-perfect recreation, even down to the cigarette burn cue marks and slightly faded subtitles that also appear to introduce the dozens of famous historical faces. It’s boxy, yet vibrant, with an amateur quality that can only be made by someone who clearly understands what they’re doing. The sound pops, all of it recorded in post-production.

The film they edited gave it the smoky, cool tone it’s most known for. Jump cuts excised all the “boring” bits, leaving only the portions that we need in order to want to know more. Linklater could have leaned on that technique more, as a substantial chunk of the film is spent on meticulously detailing the daily production process for the film. The majority of the days in the twenty-three-day shoot meld together, leaving an impression that we’re running around in a revolving door.

The film they released was in theaters, catching on like wildfire as a new generation of cinephiles gravitated towards its hip aesthetics and ideas. This film will not share that strategy or result, with its placement on Netflix isolating the experience. For as much fun as I had with the movie itself, an equal amount came from the collective awe-inspiring giddiness that spread throughout the room. We were all sharing the same projector light, the same sound system, and the same sequence of events. And there’s nothing as artistically pure as that.