The cinema is not a craft. It is an art. It does not mean

The cinema, in the words of Jean-Luc Godard, is not a mere craft but an art—a profound expression of the human soul, woven into frames of light and shadow. To say that the cinema is not a craft is to reject the notion of it being merely a skill to be mastered. It transcends the technical, the mechanical. It becomes an endeavor of the spirit, a journey into the heart of human experience. A craftsman creates, but an artist asks questions, seeking truth, delving into the depths of existence. For in the act of creation, one is never truly accompanied. The director, like a poet before a blank page, stands alone in the abyss of thought, facing the silent void, striving to shape meaning from it.

Consider the great masters of film—men and women who carved their own path in the unforgiving world of cinema. Federico Fellini, with his surreal worlds, Alfred Hitchcock, with his tension-laden suspense, and Ingmar Bergman, whose films cut deep into the psyche of man. These filmmakers understood that to create, one must first ask questions. They stood before the blank page—or rather, the empty frame—each moment a new puzzle, a challenge that could not be solved by the hands of many. In their solitude, they confronted their doubts, their fears, their desires, and their convictions. Solitude is the crucible in which art is forged, where the raw material of life is tested and transformed into something eternal.

Godard’s assertion that to make films is to answer the questions we ask is a reflection of the internal dialogue that each creator faces. Just as the philosopher does not simply speak, but questions, so too does the filmmaker craft a narrative not only to entertain but to challenge, to provoke thought, to ask the hard questions of life—what is truth? What is love? What is the human condition? Every frame becomes a step toward answering these profound questions, even as they remain elusive. The work of the artist is never truly finished. Each film is a new inquiry, a new exploration, a new attempt to understand the world and our place within it.

There is a heroism in this solitary journey. For every film, there is the risk of failure, the terror of walking into the unknown, where the rules are unwritten, and the audience’s response is an enigma. The filmmaker, like the ancient heroes of myth, sets out on a quest for meaning, armed with nothing but their vision. They may fail, they may falter, but in their striving, they become something more—just as the hero of legend transcends the ordinary through their trials. This is the essence of the artistic endeavor: to strive, to question, and to answer—not in certainty, but in the pursuit of deeper understanding.

The act of filmmaking is thus a conversation with oneself, with the unseen forces of creativity and imagination. It is akin to a dialogue with the ancient philosophers, who, in their solitude, asked the great questions of existence. Think of Socrates, who, through his method of questioning, sought to uncover the truth buried beneath the surface of human experience. Similarly, the filmmaker, through their lens, attempts to peel back the layers of reality, to find the deeper meanings that lie beneath. Each question posed by the filmmaker is a reflection of their own humanity—an exploration of who they are, what they believe, and what they hope to convey to the world.

In this way, the act of creating a film becomes an act of self-discovery. Just as a warrior faces battles not only on the field but within, so too does the filmmaker battle within themselves. Their struggle is not against external enemies, but against the doubts and uncertainties that plague the creative mind. It is in this battle that true artistry is born. To be alone before the blank page, or before the blank screen, is to face the self, to confront the fears and desires that shape our being, and to shape them into something meaningful.

The lesson that Godard’s words impart to us is one of courage and conviction. Just as the artist must stand alone in their pursuit, so too must each of us in our lives. We must ask questions, confront our doubts, and seek the truth, even if it means standing apart from the crowd. In this solitude, we find our true voice, our purpose, and our strength. The world may not always understand, but it is in our pursuit of answers that we begin to understand ourselves. So, let us follow the path of the artist: to be brave, to be curious, and to never shy away from the silence where the greatest questions are born.