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Mates,
Thanks to the miracle of Neflix streaming, I watched Tati's "Playtime" last evening, a movie I hadn't seen for 20 years.
I should say right away that Tati is for me one of the funniest people who ever lived, and "Mr. Hulot's Holiday" and "Mon Oncle" are two of the greatest comedies.
There's no need to speak French to see a Jacques Tati movie as they are sublimely visual- houses falling on Buster Keaton with the abstracted suffering everyman of Kafka. The dialogue is almost superfluous, there is no need to say, "Jacques Tati woke up one morning to find he had been transformed into a gigantic symbol of the modern World." The visual gags are have perfectly seamless, clockwork timing and a thousand fantastic details flash by every minute. The amazing quality is that nothing ever feels contrived- tiny improbabilities cascade into big events completely naturally, the considerable special effects and timing invisible.
And, Tati has another uncommon characteristic in that the Hulot character is kind, polite, and awkwardly formal. I can't recall a second in which he expresses anger of frustration nor does he take advantage or judge anyone- he's delightfully calm, an observer of life as the theatre of the absurd.
A common thread of Tati's movies is a humourous lament at modern society, the alienation, the loss of heritage, and the tragedies of modernisation- fast pace, traffic, ruthlesss technologies, soul-less architecture, empty entertainment. Mr. Hulot is a visitor to all this and calmly works his way through the gaping abyss- an inspiration to those of us that feel lost in the pace of everything getting worse all the time.
"Playtime" is probably the most abstracted and graphically fantastic moves of Tati, a series of sequences in which Mr. Hulot goes to a neighbourhood in Paris that is all blocky glass office buildings. He works his way through a maze of waiting rooms, offices and anonymous businessmen, though we never have a clue as to what business he's conducting- it's just not as important as depicting the dehumanising processes of business and bureaucracies. It's a kind of intensely funny tragedy- we see the impending doom of cubicle life in 1963, the austerity of modern commercial architecture, and the odd effects of conformity, tourism, and the inner life of the culture draining away. In a way, a lot of the humourous pique is directed towards Americans as the leaders in these effects- and so many visual details are Americanised- not only the Americans that pop up by the busload as tourists- who else would visit this soul-less part of Paris and take endless snapshots of light poles?- and see the purple, pink, and green three-tone '57 Chevrolet in "Mon Oncle", but it's still affectionate.
There is really no story in the tradition of the best cinema verite and so many side-splitting scenes and details that all I can do is say, when returning from the DMV, the insurance company, the accountant's, or your attorney's- have "Playtime" on the shelf ready to reassure you that you're not alone- others are noticing that the World really is turning into a big individually wrapped slice of Kraft "cheese".
Cheer up!
Bambi B
To be tired of Tati is to be tired of life.
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Topic - "Playtime" - If Franz Kafka and Buster Keaton had had a child,.. - Bambi B 09:04:56 05/12/10 (2)
- It's one of my all-time favorites (worth buying on Criterion B-D!) - 4season 11:35:37 05/13/10 (0)
- Wow! Great review... - SF tech 17:50:49 05/12/10 (0)
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