"This is my favorite film. By all accounts, the making of Godard’s first commercial movie was a nightmare for him, and you can see his own contempt written all over it. First he tells us that what we are about to see is fake, and then he proceeds to mock the commercial film industry for the rest of the movie. Some moments in the dialogue seem intentionally ludicrous, like when Paul describes his relationship with Camille through a heavy-handed interpretation of the Odysseus/Penelope myth. The stream of visual absurdities (Prokosch’s tiny book, Paul typing with two fingers, even the final car crash) discourages us from ever taking anything too seriously. Yet because Godard never tries to make us buy into a bunch of psychological hoopty-hoo, this film is devastating and feels realer as a depiction of a crumbling relationship than anything else I’ve ever seen. We’ve all known this couple: after the first flush of romance, the woman finds herself financially dependent on some self-centered, brutish mediocrity with a roving eye. We watch Camille vacillate between the horns of her dilemma in a totally believable way before making the decision to leave Paul and go back to being a typist. As the only non-cartoon character, with her convincing mix of youthful insecurity and defiant self-regard, Camille becomes the whole world of the film. The cinematography and score are perfect, and the final shot of the Mediterranean destroys me every time."

"There’s no performer like Ivor Cutler. This record is a mixture of songs and poetry and stories and the lines between them all aren’t particularly distinct. There’s also a lady who I think was his girlfriend or lover at the time, but she has a couple of short poems on it. The only thing I can think that would be similar would be if you had Philip Larkin and Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band on a record together. It manages to capture those two extremes. It’s also a misleading record because when you first listen to it you think its daft nonsense, and it’s not, it’s extremely astute observation that is succinctly delivered. There’s one piece that talks about sex: "I used to lie in bed with women I loved and have sex. With this woman, I lie in bed and have love, whatever we do is love. Even sex." You have that next to a song about a ludicrous fantasy story about someone saving a sparrow from a taxi driver’s boots. The imagery is wonderful and it’s truly absurd but the absurdity can distract you from how observant it really is. It also has a distinct melancholy running through it as well. Even a song like 'I Believe In Bugs' and the last line "I will feel the bugs wriggle as they eat me away" – it’s funny and it’s absurd but he’s talking about mortality and the absurdity of existence. And very Scottish as well!"