Reflections of Being in Cléo from 5 to 7

Mae Brando
7 min readOct 13, 2021

In Agnes Varda’s film, Cleo From 5 to 7, she explores a plethora of narcissistic overtones throughout the world that her protagonist, Cleo, is experiencing. The film is full of persona-like objects, this includes both the masks that Cleo sees in the shop windows as well as the mirrors that she frequently sees herself in among the streets she walks throughout her day. The mirrors represent a reflection of who Cleo is during her journey of the hours between five and seven, and the transformation that she undergoes. This alludes itself to the underlying ideas of having a persona- and viewing one’s self in a particular way. Not only will mirrors be explored, but also the female gaze in a setting of consumer culture in 1960’s France and how that adds context to Cleo’s identity. Throughout the space and time within the film, Cleo’s shifting perspective on herself and other’s perspective of her will be addressed depending on the placement of mirrors in any given place. Varda has created a visual language throughout these objects and a relationship to its audience.

With some context towards the film, because of Cleo’s view of herself it goes to say a lot about 60’s European social order and western ideas. She strives to be beautiful even though it is a fleeting thing. The genre of the New Wave also aids itself in the argument of identity. It was an avant garde movement of understanding cinematic illusion to a widespread audience- thus the New Wave was born. It was shocking during its initial creation because of the way it tackled the reality of humanity in audiences and faced the patriarchy, socially critiquing what had been kept silent for so long. Varda was one of the only directors at the time, conquering gender norms and her film’s direct commentary to this closely resembled the films of the same genre. Cleo’s character was a confrontation of these themes. Cleo’s superstitions lead her to fall into society and she becomes a victim of the public eye. A majority of her view of herself is due to the societal pressure of wanting to be eternally beautiful and without flaw. In relation to how Cleo is perceived, she is described as: “Cléo is the cliché-woman: tall, beautiful, blond, voluptuous. The whole dynamic of the film lies in showing this woman at the moment when she refuses to be this cliché, the moment when she no longer wants to be looked at, when she wants to do the looking herself. From the object of the look, she becomes the subject who looks” (Anthony 88). Cleo’s transformation is closely related to the object of the mirror’s direct metamorphosis of her character. “Cléo — which is short for “Cléopâtre” — severs her link with the Egyptian queen and becomes Flora, the goddess of flowers. As her role shifts from “fauna” to “flora” Cléo’s fears of withering and dying disappear. It is as if she discovers a new way to view time” (Anthony 88).

Cleo is faced with her certain demise when a fortune teller predicts her future in colored sequence at the beginning of the film using illustrated tarot cards. We don’t see Cleo at first, we only hear her voice offscreen. Once she’s seen, there is a mirror that she wipes her tears off looking into, as she realises she may be faced with the very worst. This is the first mirror that is seen in the film. And then as she descends the staircase, she comes face to face with yet another mirror, when she says, “Wait, pretty butterfly. Ugliness is a kind of death. As long as I’m beautiful, I’m even more alive than the others.” She starts in this with a shaky view on what others view her as, and her moral hope for herself is dwindling because of that. The public eye seems to strip her of her own beauty. Cleo is a popular singer in the parts of Paris and her identity is everything to her. Objectification is strongly portrayed through mirrors.

Despite Cleo feeling like she’s running out of time, her growth is more of a rebirth. The camera’s gaze is also shifted in the middle of the film, as Cleo enters the hat shop, the mirror surrounding her like a direct confrontation.Cleo has mentors and others in her life that help her to see the truths. In line with Cleo’s superstitions, her closest friend, Angele acts as a maternal figure towards her and is evident when Cleo desires to purchase a dress that is “out of season” and something she advises strongly against getting. It is a typical rebellious attitude for Cleo and in the form of a mother-daughter type of relationship. The dress she chooses is the polka dot one and black hat, all of which signifies, dread and especially since it’s the first day of summer. She claims that everything suits her and she pretends to think that everything is naturally good on her. It’s her attitude and image of herself getting the best of her. This could represent both her resilient attitude to face the truth of her beauty, and the desire to spend tirelessly before it’s too late for her. Varda scatters Greek mythology references throughout the film, aiding in the image of herself, as Narcissus, was a figure who fell in love with his own reflection. This is a correlation to the way Cleo has fallen in love with herself and cannot see anyone else.

Cleo deals with internal struggles: part of her knows that the illness will affect her but the other part of her is weary of her image of beauty- and she attempts to hide it. She looks at the mirror in a torn, incomplete image of herself. There are several scenes that bring up this anxiety towards her appearance, including the split cafe mirror that she looks into that scares her at first, and the stunt man in town who attempts to swallow a sword. She believes that her procedure will mutilate both the interior and exterior image she presents. The illness seems to fade away from the audience’s realisation of it for a while. This is the turning point in which her perspective shifts. It’s a moment where Cleo begins to see the truth and decide that her superstitions will only lead to worse things. Cleo pauses outside a Chinese restaurant mirror and says, “I’m not looking at anyone but myself, it’s tiring.” This represents her desire to finally open up to the idea that there is more to her image alone and there is more world to be a part of. After this, she is seen in crowds and blends in more than before. Even the camera visually changes it’s perspective. The last mirror that we see in the film is when she is with her friend, Dorthee. She attempts to pick up the broken pieces but decides she must live in a fragmented world. Her identity has quite literally shattered before her. “While it appears that Cleo can accept her mortality, she cannot face the fact that her beauty is short lived,” (Anthony 91). Moreover, she makes the daring change by dressing in black and shedding her fears and superstitions. She even takes off her wig and “lets her hair down” quite literally. The climax of the film is shown by the breaking of the mirror and her song rehearsal, she sings her heart out, stripping the burdens she once carried. The former images of herself are being stripped away. When Cleo is in her apartment, the high ceilings and bright white painted walls create a visual intensity that Cleo is the object of the camera’s desire. It is a visual transformation.

Cleo takes on a new perspective at the end of the film, when she meets Antoine, a French soldier who takes her mind off of death and the impending doom she faces. Antoine finds her after she is, yet again, gazing into her reflection in the water below the bridge she stands on. It is a final address to her humanity and her former self. The running water of the waterfall that we see a brief reflection of her in can also be attributed to the natural self that she must return to. Her connection with Antoine motivates her to clear her mind. Antoine has directly contributed to Cleo’s nature. Antoine reminds Cleo that it’s June twenty-first, the hottest day of the year. It attributes to the longing Cleo feels of overthinking, beyond what she’s been feeling and experiencing. As the two of them become acquainted, almost as a warm welcome to each other for the better, they take the trolly across town taking in various forms of life. One particular instance, Cleo remarks about seeing a baby in a stroller. This shows how much she’s changed and her desire to seek out human life, instead of merely focusing on herself as usual. Cleo and Antoine both address the gaze of the camera before the car pulls away, and walk in silence. They have found solace in each other and Cleo is no longer hesitant of what the future brings. This also illustrates the hours between five and seven that occur and the realization of time and space through avant garde. It’s a moment to breathe and let the audience examine Cleo’s newfound motives in life. Her problems are pulling away, miles away, until we don’t see them anymore. Her journey evolves from a woman of spectacle to a woman of being.

Despite the film’s cold opening of what seems to be a hopeless character, the tragic heroine is no longer clinging to the fear that she once felt. So Varda did not simply draw reference from figures of mythology, but rather layered upon them a more detailed story of a woman’s journey. Throughout the film, Cleo is an object of the gaze from both the camera and the male gaze, and that is evident by her being in every shot. Her past is no longer a burden to her, and she is able to move past the narcissism that once plagued her. The film follows what is expected of the French New Wave genre. It holds the conventions of hand-held camera movements, and objects representing something that has yet to be discovered by a developing character. The film leaves it’s audience on a hopeful note, as we too, must discover our natural self without the mirrors that were once there. No longer are we the spectator either.

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Mae Brando

Essentialist. Double majoring in Film & Media Arts and English, minoring in Gender Studies. Host of Aspect Radio Podcast! Writing about film.