I was spoiled by opening scenes in the movies of my youth. The turning point year for me was 1977. I saw “Rocky” early that year, a movie that barely let you into your seats before tossing you right into the ring for a fight with Rocky Balboa.

Soon after there was “Annie Hall,” with Woody Allen zinging the audience with one liners fresh off the credits, not even waiting to get into character. Less than a month later, “Star Wars” had all of us with these droids inside a spaceship with some laser battle going on. We had no idea what was happening, but we were in it and it was cool.

The late 70s-early 80s were a golden age for movie openings. “All That Jazz” had the massive Broadway chorus line audition scene. “Apocalypse Now” had Willard fighting a private war in his head, the overhead fan in Saigon simulating a helicopter. “Manhattan” again showed Woody Allen at the top of his game, with the “Rhapsody in Blue” ode to New York that welcomed us to “Manhattan.” And it all seemed to reach perfection in 1981 with “Raiders of the Lost Ark” in an opening that gave us the kind of action we expected in a finale, before anyone was even sure what this movie was about.

So, I expect something from the opening scenes of movies, maybe more than the average movie viewer. But I also expect the opening to fit the film. And in its own slightly awkward, somewhat rambling way, the opening scenes of “The Green Wave” are just as good as the movies I’ve just mentioned.

We begin with a quote from Rimbaud. “The Green Ray” is part of a Rohmer series called “Comedies and Proverbs,” and each begins with such a proverb, a pithy quote that establishes its theme.

“Ah! Let the time come when hearts are enamored!” It seems like a simple thought, but there are some interesting elements within it. Rimbaud is telling us that the time is not always right for love, that it must find the ideal moments. This movie will be about patience, finding that right time, but also being open and available for the discovery of it.

It begins in a Paris office. We see two Parisian women talking. The titles tell us that it is July 2 — and they are engaged in a typical topic of that time, when and where they are going on vacation. For a Parisian, a holiday is a birthright. It is part of the identity of the professional class. Where you go and who you go with matters a great deal, and these women — who we will never see again in the film, are deeply immersed in a vacation discussion, folios of Air France tickets strategically placed behind them on a desk.

A phone rings, the call is for Delphine. She is played by Marie Riviere, an actress who appeared in seven of Rohmer’s films. Delphine dominates this one — and Rohmer basically handed the story telling over to Riviere. The movie had a broad outline, but every scene was improvised, most of it led by Riviere.

It’s a lazy shorthand to always call the film’s director the author of the film, and I think it would be fair to call Riviere the co-author of “The Green Ray.” The director as author shorthand, actually, was not common practice until a film magazine in the 1950s called Cahiers du Cinema began promoting the auteur theory of film, that the director was the movie’s primary author and we should judge a director’s body of work just like we would a novelist’s or playwright’s.

Rohmer was one of the critics on Cahiers du Cinema, along with Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Jacques Rivette, Agnes Varda and Jacques Demi. They all went on to become film directors in what would be known as the French New Wave.

“The Green Wave” was made more than a quarter century after the beginning of the New Wave, in the 1980s, when the Francois Mitterand socialist government in France was making major investments in the country’s culture, including filmmaking. Rohmer — a Catholic and the most conservative member of the New Wave — benefitted perhaps more than anyone from the socialist-fed French Second Wave. The 1980s were one of his most creative periods.

Another artifact of the Mitterand years was those holidays. In 1982, the Mitterand government extended the mandated vacation time in France to five weeks per year. So the vacations being planned by these women was something new, but very quickly became something expected.

Delphine comes to the phone and is discussing changed plans with someone. At first, she thinks she is being told that her friend will bring along another person on their planned holiday, and she seems ok with it. But then she figures out that she is, in fact, being disinvited to the planned vacation. She expresses unhappiness with this action and the fact that it was done so close to the planned vacation, giving her little time to adjust. But she does not express anger. A moment later, we see Delphine, alone, crossing a Parisian street.

The next scene is the next day, July 3. It begins at a museum in Paris. The site reminds me somewhat of the Rodin Museum, but Rohmer actually plays a small trick on the audience here — he uses the Musee des Beaux Arts in Tours as the location and sneaks in some shots that make it seem like the locale is only blocks away from the Eiffel Tower.

We are given a quick montage of young Parisian women sitting on the steps of the museum alone, eating lunch or reading. The loneliness of women is a recurring theme of the film, both in visuals and dialogue.

Delphine meets up with an unnamed friend. At first they don’t talk — the friend actually continues to read — but she then senses something is up with Delphine and asks if anything is wrong. Delphine then explains the vacation problem to her. The friend goes immediately into problem solving mode, telling her she has plenty of time to find another travel companion, suggests she travel alone, and even name drops a young man who seems interested in her. Delphine is not open to any of the suggestions, but doesn’t seem to dismiss the friend’s idea of a trip to Spain to her friend’s aunt’s house near the ocean.

We quickly jump to scene three. Delphine is eating a meal outside with three other people who we have not been introduced to — it is now July 4. The movie is rapidly clicking down the days, giving us a sense that Delphine has limited time to figure this all out.

In this scene, Delphine surrenders the stage to an older man in his 60s who talks about how he never leaves Paris — he is a cab driver and is always working. He says that he doesn’t need to travel to the sea, the Seine is good enough for him, and Paris is enough for him. Again, this is a character we will not see again — but in this case, he seems like he might be a stand in for Rohmer.

And that’s how the film opens. It’s nothing dramatic. The protagonist isn’t fighting for her life or cracking jokes, but she invites us into the predicament that frames the movie and gives us an idea about the style we’re going to experience. This film will be a series of conversations, often about love, but sometimes about what it means to be young and unattached.

When it works — and it’s most of the time — it’s because Marie Riviere is creating a fascinating character in Delphine and inviting her acting mates to contribute to their characters as thoughtfully as she’s building hers.