But the family who live there, including a young boy in a red CCCP T-shirt who barks, “Make fun of Balzac - I kill you!
After the seismic ruptures to film grammar in his self-aware, playful Sixties work, he largely abandoned narrative and popularity at the start of the Seventies.
But his enduring idealism came through in a rare recent interview when, dismissing his more conventional and beloved shows Godard is cinema’s last revolutionary, still willing it to wake to its potential.
Replacing narrative this time are three sections, centring on an ocean liner, a rural French petrol station and great, allusive chunks of old film.
Themes include Palestine, the 20th century and its Holocausts, Jews, Hitler and Hollywood.
The whole film sometimes seems a mournful, furious farewell to the conflicts and desires that defined Godard’s post-war generation of film rebels.
Patti Smith is among the oddball, maverick intellectuals Godard smuggles on to the liner.
His alertness to the 21st century is first shown in achingly beautiful HD video footage of the blue of the sky and shimmering waves.
The flapping of shipboard flags escalates into overwhelming noise resembling a wind-ruined mobile phone line, intercut with bad phone-camera footage so overloaded it sounds like thrash-metal, and the ghostly fuzz of people glimpsed on CCTV.
Though Godard isn’t online, partner Ann-Marie Mieville is, finding footage of kittens doing funny stuff so he can riff on You Tube.
The jarring breaks in sound and vision he jabs our attention with put our unconsidered internet experience on the big screen.
You may find it aggravating at first, but this is how we happily experience large chunks of our day.