United’s date with destiny

There are certain moments in a team’s season when everything goes right. When all the diligently crafted plotlines lead to a dizzying climax, and you begin to entertain questions of destiny. Manchester United have the same aura of inevitability that their opponents in the semi-finals had two seasons ago.

2006 was Barca’s masterclass. Ronaldinho was at his peak, Eto’o was arguably the best striker in Europe and the world was waking up to the explosive, prodigious talent of Lionel Messi. Above all, it was a team that strove for victory, the sum of whose parts resulted in a near-invincible team.

Barca are now a team in tatters, maybe no longer a team. United have marched into the vacant space. Substitute the variables. Ronaldo is the best player in the world by a mile, and along with Rooney and Tevez, United’s trinity has the potential to terrorise any team. United also have an exquisitely solid defence. Ferdinand and Vidic instill the same sense of stability that Puyol and Marquez did in 2006 for Barca.

In short, Europe is United’s to lose. They have a near-full squad, there is optimism and confidence in the ranks. Nowhere is it more pronounced than on their website, where they have already earmarked May 21 – the date of the Champions League final – as a fixture.

Eric Cantona, a Red legend who wore the No.7 shirt, sees the ominous signs. He said, ‘Manchester United will win both trophies, I am sure of that. It will be tough, but United have everything right now – this will be their season.’

The great teams capitalise on moments of strength. At their peak, United must convert opportunity into glory. As a club, Manchester United’s perfect symphony was the ’99 Treble. A similar moment awaits them now.

Barcelona may be arguing with destiny. As always, it may turn out to be futile.

Jean-Luc Godard’s Le Petit Soldat

Somewhere in the middle of Le Petit Soldat (The Little Soldier), Bruno Forestier runs away from the French secret agents that have ordered him to kill an Algerian sympathiser. As he drives away, he thinks – ‘I don’t know whether it felt happy to be free, or free to feel happy.’

In many ways, it is this existential conflict that is central to Godard’s early films. As we have seen in Breathless, Contempt and Bande a part, among many others, the protagonists loath the security of a normal existence, but are unable to find agency or direction in the tumult of a frenetic, absurd existence they chose. Often, we see faint glimpses of nostalgia, although for Godard characters, the idea of a return is beyond consideration.

In Le Petit Soldat, his follow up to Breathless, we see this intellectual confusion and lack of purpose find admission in the structure and form of the film itself. The Algerian struggle was a flashpoint of physical and ideological warfare, but it left a large chunk floating in indecision about which side of the fence they stood. Or even, whether they were fence sitters at all.

Godard, in the midst of a similar predicament, chose to explore it through his film. For long stretches, the film reflects this lack of stable vantage-points, as it meanders mostly purposelessly, from one argument to another while endorsing none. Bruno is captured by the Arabs and undergoes torture, not for any conviction or purpose, but in a manner of prolonged idiosyncrasy. He falls in love with Veronica, played by Anna Karina in her cinematic debut, who is working for the other side.

The film’s plot is opaque and absurd at times, and I guess, this is the effect Godard wanted to achieve. Bruno and Veronica are unlike revolutionaries in every way – not patriotic, lacking ideological moorings and grand ambition. They are characters whose actions are propelled by forces outside their control, and even when they are in the thick of action, they are somehow outside of it.

Le Petit Soldat is a technically more stable film than Breathless. Raoul Coutard’s cinematography stands out, and he even gets a cheeky reference by the narrator during the film. This small reference to his cinematographer in a way defines the maverick Godard touch. In a larger sense, this is how he sees cinema – as a toy – open to manipulation and improvisation while remaining at all times a medium, not a recorder of truth or reality, but a multiplicity of interpretations and illusions.