Jake Lightburn
11 min readMar 8, 2021

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Agnès Varda’s The Gleaners & I: A Documentary Filmmaking Masterclass

“The word documentary has been spoilt. You say documentary and people say what a bore. We should have middle words” (Senses of Cinema, 2002) said French director Agnès Varda in an interview with Cinema Papers in 1983. It is therefore no surprise that through her experimental and personal cinematic vision, Varda re-envisioned expectations of the normative boundaries of the documentary genre with her film ‘The Gleaners and I’ (Les Glaneurs et La Glaneuse, 2002). Not only did this film reignite Varda’s prominence as the only female filmmaker associated with the French New Wave movement and highlight the significance of her body of work for French cinema, but it also acted as an impetus and influence on the approach to modern day documentary filmmaking.

‘The Gleaners and I’ is a reflexive documentary which was produced under Varda’s own company, Cine-Tamaris in 2000, and was distributed by Zeitgeist Films in 2002. The film has since received critical attention from film scholars and garnered 14 awards and 3 nominations from film festivals around the world. However, this recognition and acclaim is largely due to the success of her later films and the consequent revisiting of her work; throughout the French New Wave, she was marginalised as a result of sexism during the movement. Perhaps because of this, Varda conceives many of her films as social and political statements. To this extent, both her fiction and documentary films largely focus on themes of memory, mortality, place within society, and prejudice against women.

Whilst ‘The Gleaners and I’ encompasses aspects of these themes, it was inspired by the people she saw gathering discarded food when her local market was closing. Historically, a gleaner was someone who collected leftover crops after a harvest. In the modern day, this meaning continues, but it has also transformed to include those who collect food thrown out from supermarkets, as well as those who recycle objects for other uses, such as art and activism. The film explores the history, legality and transformation of gleaning practices, as well as the gleaners themselves, including ‘la glaneuse.

Through the ground-breaking manipulation of normative documentary form and her portmanteau term, ciné-writing (‘cinécriture’ in French) in ‘The Gleaners and I’, Varda created a film that explored the meaning of finding value where others see nothing, as well as a personal reflection on her ageing body. Firstly, the cinematography in ‘The Gleaners and I’ is so well considered and constructed that Varda has profound reasoning behind every technical choice. For many filmmakers, Varda’s informed technical choices are an obvious, but fundamental, influence in the cinematography of their own work. For example, Varda shunned high-end film equipment for handheld digital video. She believed that the discovery of the digital camera was integral in her creative process “with the new digital camera, I felt I could film myself, get involved as a filmmaker” (Anderson, 2001). This decision enabled her to film intrinsic elements of ‘The Gleaners and I’ by herself, thus creating a reflexive dimension to the film by recording her own body and also developing intimate encounters with gleaners — as such, she became more than a mere observer, recording on camera. By using a small digital camcorder, and without the limitations of traditional cinematic equipment, Varda could interact with contributors without fear of intimidating them with a large crew and numerous pieces of high-end equipment. For example, on talking to one gleaner, she says “with a small camera, I try not to disturb the flow of his words” (Varda, 2015). When filming content, the potential implications of equipment upon potential contributors is a highly important factor to consider.

Furthermore, not only was the digital camera a technical choice, it was also a stylistic one. Varda calls the digital camera “macrophoto” able to “approach things very near. I can, with one hand, film the other” (Knegt, 2015), as portrayed by filming the skin of her ageing body or of a misshapen potato. To this extent, Varda shares a much more realistic viewpoint for the audience, creating an organic texture that blends the visual with the haptic, akin to reaching out and grabbing the object in question. She uses the digital camera as probing device to explore her surroundings, Juhasz and Lebow liken her use of a hand-held digital camera to a painter, saying it “evokes the swipe of a painter’s brush stroke”(Juhasz and Lebow, 2015). The tangible texture of ‘The Gleaners and I’ is particularly inspiring for an audience resigned to monotonous factual pieces.

Secondly, as the title suggests ‘The Gleaners and I’ is not solely about gleaning (although it is a central and important theme). The ‘I’ in the title implicitly links Varda within the film and creates an invitation for subjectivity, self-reflection and self-involvement. Consequently, the way in which Varda balances the factuality of the film with the reflexive and personal of ‘The Gleaners and I’ is another pivotal influence in breaking down normal documentary boundaries.

Through her intelligently sensitive presence, she is careful to maintain a stance against obvious political judgements and statements — Varda simply observes and gently encourages the audience to connect reasons one might expect for gleaning, such as poverty and resourcefulness, to more surprising ones such as heritage, art and activism. She does this through relating contributors’ situations with a series of poetic metaphors in lieu of a closely reasoned argument, rhetorical questions with no answers, such as “How can one live on the leftovers of others?” (The Gleaners and I, 2002) and thoughtfully using the rap song ‘Rap of Recuperation’ as a backing track. Consequently, she reinforces the social stereotypes of adversity and social marginalisation that one may allude to modern-day gleaning. As such, Varda offers her opinions, but does not force them. Thus, the audience may ‘glean’ what they need to come to their own social and political conclusions.

Undoubtedly, Varda’s film is drenched in political and societal issues, however her delicate manner is intrinsic to allowing the film to light-heartedly push past these, to explore other areas, other gleaners. Thus, whilst she may gently infuse ‘The Gleaners and I’ with social discourse, she constructs it in such a way that allows the audience to digest it. Additionally, Varda deliberately adds unusual narrative moments, such as humorous interviews with a judge in a cabbage field, ‘catching’ trucks on a motorway, or combing her newly discovered grey hair, to act as a contrasting device. Not only do these moments help to develop the narrative for example, by ‘catching’ the trucks, Varda adds an unexpected humorous dimension to the narrative, but also augments her gentle political suggestion. Whilst Varda may be omnipresent, she is careful not to dominate the film’s central themes and factuality by directly linking herself and her actions back to the central themes of ‘The Gleaners and I’. Through this, she avoids self-indulgence. This considered method of presence makes the contributors trust her, in return they feel more comfortable revealing private information and reasons behind their gleanings. She explains that this personal footage of herself was necessary because “I asked people to reveal themselves, to give a lot of themselves; so I thought that the film should also reveal a little about the filmmakers, that I should just use a little bit of myself in it” (Senses of Cinema, 2007). This delicate equilibrium between being present and astute, rather than overbearing, is surprisingly difficult for many documentary makers to achieve, particularly when one considers its importance when establishing a stronger connection with both contributors and audience members. In such, it also proves how a central figure, be it a presenter, contributor or protagonist, can link different segments of the film together and become integral to the story itself. For example, when the film strays, or when the central themes become too heavy, Varda’s sustained presence, onscreen and in voice-over, drives the film by becoming a centre for coherence, unification and identification. Ruby Rich believes that the film’s appeal “is due in considerable part to Agnès Varda’s own presence” (Juhasz and Lebow, 2015). She is sensitive, humorous and charming and yet, still addresses the serious issues through metaphors and suggestions. Consequently, when necessary, intelligently diffusing the serious issues of a documentary with humour and sensitivity is extremely notable. In less experienced hands, these issues could be portrayed in a much harsher manner, with charged political opinions dominating the film. Without Varda’s delicate approach, ‘The Gleaners and I’ may have only become an environmental and political film, rather than the gentle and poetic cinematic essay about finding value where others see nothing. It is solely through her merit that she considered how gentle, metaphoric suggestions of the central theme may be more astute to the specific situation, rather than explicit and closed statements.

Thirdly, and perhaps the most startlingly influential aspect of ‘The Gleaners and I’, is the way in which Varda intelligently employs ‘cinéwriting’ and in turn, successfully subverts normative documentary form to construct the story. Through studying these aspects of ‘The Gleaners and I’, the possibility within documentary to be just as expressive and creative as fiction film is inspiringly revealed. Through an unusual narrative editing style, Varda creates an imaginative and almost free-form and episodic structure; one that often deviates from the linear journey one would perhaps expect in a documentary film. For example, the inclusion of the lens cap swinging in and out of frame after Varda forgets to turn her camera off. In normative documentary, editing would be so polished and succinct that ‘mistakes’ such as these would usually be deleted, and the linear construction would continue. However, due to the central theme of the film, finding value where others see nothing, Varda relished the opportunity to include this scene in the narrative, proudly calling it ‘The Dance of the Lens Cap’. Consequently, through studying Varda’s decision to include unusual narrative moments and an episodic structure, it is clear that there is no necessity to conform to the super-efficient-information-machine style of many modern day documentary films.

In this sense, a free-form structure can be extremely successful, provided that, as Varda’s cinéwriting dictates, every aspect of the film still contributes to the development of the story. Moreover, this idea lends itself well to any unexpected events that occur when filming in reality — embracing tangential moments similar to those that enrich ‘The Gleaners and I’, opportunistically taking inspiration from the environment. In this manner, it is clear that one should not necessarily be close-minded to filming extraneous material or omitting scenes during editing because they may not directly fit in with the presupposed narrative, like in ‘The Gleaners and I’, they may prove to be hugely rewarding and actually contribute to the construction of the story.

Furthermore, the inclusion of tangential moments through the narrative editing also creates a parallel between Varda as a filmmaker and the central theme of gleaning. As such, she ‘gleans’ moments of film that would otherwise be omitted. “I’m not poor, I have enough to eat,” says Varda, but alludes to “another kind of gleaning, which is artistic gleaning. You pick ideas, you pick images, you pick emotions from other people, and then you make it into a film”(Pethő, 2015). Coincidentally, through being influenced by Varda, the viewer is also artistically gleaning from her. She has gleaned from others, and by the creation and distribution of ‘The Gleaners and I’ she has allowed the artistic pathway to continue so that others can also glean from her.

Whilst these three components (narrative editing, free-form structure, reinforcing the central theme) may be influential as individual aspects, they are also implicitly linked within the film. Together, these cinematographic choices augment the film by contributing to the overall sentiment of the film, as dictated by Varda’s cinéwriting. This complex style not only proves Varda’s capabilities as an experienced visual storyteller, but also a true understanding of the film’s central theme. In essence, in a complex cycle, the narrative editing creates a free-form structure that welcomes these unusual moments, that in turn complements the narrative and thus strengthens the moral backbone of the film. On further reflection, for an documentary filmmaker, the complexities underpinning ‘The Gleaners and I’ not only demonstrate how informed cinematic choices when editing narrative and constructing effective filmic structures can affect the story’s portrayal, but also how a deep understanding of the central themes can strengthen the film.

Conclusively, ‘The Gleaners and I’ is a substantially significant filmic piece of documentary film, and will continue to be so for many decades to come. Varda’s intelligent use of a digital camera, reflexive presence and unexpected narrative editing has substantially changed the factual film landscape. Through her technical knowledge, she profits from the opportunities that arise with the use of a digital camera, enabling her to have closer encounters with contributors because of the absence of a large crew with more traditional cinematic apparatus. Through understanding how this technical choice impacted ‘The Gleaners and I’, it becomes clear that certain technology has the capacity to truly augment or limit the story. For example, the technical capabilities of the digital camera allowed Varda to create a haptic texture that runs throughout the film, thus complementing the narrative of the film by provoking the audience’s sense of touch — a rare element in a film and something worth evoking.

Whilst the film addresses larger political and social topics such as sustainability, waste and capitalism, it also includes lighter moments that create time for the audience to digest these issues, whilst still aiding Varda’s political and social suggestions due to the often metaphoric images. For example, the significance of ‘catching’ trucks due to their link to a wasteful system. This aspect has proven to be extremely influential in evolving the understanding of how to use subtly and poetics to portray a significant issue. Through this, one understands the complexities of addressing heavier issues — whether delicacy and humour will benefit the film’s narrative and the audience’s ability to digest the issue, rather than explicit heavier themes and closed arguments. Moreover, Varda often includes herself in these moments.

Through this, her presence is not self-indulgent or dominating, but it complements the film through the development of the narrative and reinforces the reflexive element that is implicit in the film’s title. By emulating such a style in future projects, a similar equilibrium can be maintained to allow the filmmaker’s presence to drive the film’s narrative forward, rather than overshadow any central themes.

Furthermore, under her idea of cinéwriting, Varda is highly conscious of the consequences of every cinematic choice. Not only as an individual component, but also when linked with other aspects to construct or complement the film’s central theme. To this extent, the film’s narrative creates a loose, free-form structure that allows defining moments such as ‘The Dance of the Lens Cap’ to be included. Consequently, Varda captures the serendipitous essence that is so prevalent in the narrative, and thus further reinforces the central theme of the film, to find value where others see nothing. ‘The Gleaners and I’ is a documentary that questions what possibilities lay within documentary film in terms of cinematographic form.

The film demonstrates that documentary does not always have to conform to the serious, efficiently encyclopaedic and sometimes monotonous stereotype. It can be creative, flexible, and gentle, as Varda successfully demonstrates in ‘The Gleaners and I’.

The film’s significant impact on cinematographic, political and environmental spheres — both in France and internationally — is not surprising. What is surprising however, is what the film was able to achieve as a low-budget, technologically low-end documentary. The way in which Varda turned the expectations of normative documentary film on their back is impressive and influential 15 years later. ‘The Gleaners and I’ is still certainly something to which filmmakers should aspire.

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