Going Places (Les Valseuses), directed by Bertrand Blier and released in 1974, is a controversial French road movie that follows two aimless, delinquent young men—Jean-Claude (Gérard Depardieu) and Pierrot (Patrick Dewaere)—as they drift across the French countryside engaging in petty crime, sexual misadventures, and frequent acts of cruelty. The film is provocative, anarchic, and deeply rooted in the countercultural spirit of 1970s French cinema.
At its core, Going Places is less about plot than it is about pushing boundaries—social, sexual, and moral. Its central figures live without regard for consequence, and the women they encounter are often drawn into their chaotic orbit. These female characters—played by actresses such as Miou-Miou, Jeanne Moreau, and Isabelle Huppert—serve as pivotal reflections of the film's harsh interrogation of gender, power, and desire.
The female characters in the film are often portrayed through a raw, exposed lens—frequently sexualized and objectified by the male protagonists. Miou-Miou’s character, Marie-Ange, is a standout: a sexually passive hairdresser who becomes entangled with the two men early on. Her beauty is portrayed with a kind of gritty realism—natural, unpolished, vulnerable. She is both desired and discarded, depicted as lacking sexual fulfillment and gradually developing a more assertive voice as the film progresses.
Jeanne Moreau’s character adds a layer of haunting melancholy. As an older, recently released prisoner, she exudes a mature, faded elegance that starkly contrasts the younger women’s naïve or reluctant sexuality. Her beauty is more psychological—imbued with loss, longing, and fatalism—and her role culminates in one of the film’s most tragic and sobering moments.
Going Places confronts viewers with disturbing questions about the relationship between desire and violence, charm and cruelty. The women are often voiceless or caught in male fantasies, but Blier occasionally shifts the lens to suggest the depth behind their silenced roles. Their beauty is used not as a celebration, but as a symbol of what is consumed, misunderstood, or punished in a patriarchal, hedonistic world.
The film has been widely debated—and often condemned—for its treatment of women. Yet it is also an artifact of its time, exposing the nihilism and sexism that lurked beneath the guise of sexual liberation. Female beauty in Going Places is not empowering or even romanticized—it is dissected, exploited, and, at rare moments, mourned.
In sum, Going Places is a film that uses female beauty as a reflection of male dysfunction. It’s not an easy or comfortable watch, but it serves as a raw, unfiltered examination of gender roles in a world without moral anchors. The female characters, despite their objectification, often emerge as the film’s most tragic—and most human—figures.
