In Order To Find, You Must First Learn To Hide: Fahrenheit 451 (1966)

There are two things I can say right off the bat when talking about this film.  Firstly, it is perhaps one of the best literary adaptations I have witnessed to date, although that should be no surprise considering it was in the ever caring hands of Francois Truffaut.  Secondly, I am pretty sure that Tommy Wiseau of The Room infamy took all his acting cues from Oskar Werner, particularly in the manner of uttering names.  Although, this adaptation of Ray Bradbury's canonical novel is sadly one of Truffaut's lesser works, it manages to exude so much of the style and substance we have come to know and love about the director, managing to make it one of my favorite of the director, second only to Shoot The Piano Player.  It captures all the greatness of a dystopian nightmare while still managing to be cinematic, understated and surprisingly fresh.  It is no small matter to make a film about a person who burns books and exists in a society that has, essentially, become inundated with mind-numbing television programs whose vague dialogue and open-endedness manage to blindly lead the "cousins" of some unnamed future city into believing that they are happy with meaningless dribble on a flat screen television, one of Bradbury's more eerie visions to prove true and other consumerist oriented items.  Friendship is a vague thing in this film and deservedly so, because Truffaut's reimagining of the work, emphasizes the separated nature of this paranoid world in which reading a book is a crime, on the grounds that to engage with written work is to invariably cause one to be sad.  Firefighters now cause fires as opposed to putting them out, although an argument could be made as to them putting out the fires of revolution through censorship.  This film somewhat serves as a counter to Godard's vision of what television would do to society, and as I have mentioned far earlier in this blog, Godard and Truffaut had a rather unfortunate falling out only years prior to this films release.  Truffaut sees a world where we can still escape conformity through the memories of wonderment, while Godard manages to see all going to hell via mass technologies, something he makes contentiously clear in Film Socialisme.  I am always in the favor of Truffaut's vision because it has a care and earnestness for human success and, honestly, who can stand to be as virulently depressed as Godard all the time.

For those of you not terribly familiar with the novel, let me first suggest reading the book before even continuing on with this description and if you have already had the pleasure of engaging with Bradbury's work the plot should be a nice refresher.  We are shown a firefighter named Montag (Oskar Werner) whose job as stated earlier is not to put out fires, but to burn books, donning a badge that reads 451, the temperature at which paper ignites.  He is, as the story begins, the ideal employee and up for promotion, something that makes his wife Linda (Julie Christie) quite happy, because it means that they will, amongst other things, be able to finally get another wall unit with which to watch more television shows.  Things seem aligned to work perfectly until Montag is approached by a woman named Clarisse  (Julie Christie) who confronts him about the reasons behind burning books and asks him if he had ever actually read one of the books he is so quick to destroy.  While Montag is initially quite dismissive of this suggestion, a growing concern for what makes these books so cherished causes him to crack into a copy of David Copperfield, an act that changes him forever, causing him to become filled with an insatiable desire to read, an act that leads to a distancing from Linda.  Montag, nonetheless, continues his job all the while secretly reading, until he witnesses a woman choose to die engulfed with her books rather instead of living in a world without them.  This realization that books do reflect something much larger than words on a page, Montag can no longer contain his desires and even while he is forced to watch his house burn down, he steals a book and flees to the outskirts of the city.  There he finds a commune of people who have dedicated their lives to memorizing a book, thus the words on the page possess a living identity, he reencounters Clarisse while memorizing The Collected Short Stories of Edgar Allen Poe.  The film closes with the members of the group walking back and forth reciting the books they have committed to memory.

I mentioned that it was a rather bold act to make a film version of a book that is essentially about a society becoming disconnected from the written word.  Of course, Bradbury's concern was more with television and even more so a society that censors all things that could make them reconsider their social place.  Yet, Truffaut manages to use the film as a provocation of what the novel already was and creates it is in such a jarring and intense manner that it does exactly what good literature should and what bad television fails to do, it incorporates thought provoking moments throughout and Truffaut a film scholar at heart uses his medium as much as a form of literature as any great author.  Furthermore, there are momentary tricks and brilliant cinematic doublings simply not possible in the book  The obvious one being the playing of both Linda and Clarisse by Julie Christie, which suggests that it is not infidelity that drives Montag away from Linda, but a desire to escape monotony and a fascist oppression.  Similarly, we are able to witness the actual act of book burning, which while describe quite magnificently by Bradbury in the text, helps with its literal incandescence on a screen.  Various other tricks throughout the film, whether they be edited zoom-in shots or the reversal shots allowing for Montag and other to slide up a fire pole ad layers of filmic metaphor and emphasis on the absurd world in which this dystopic state exists.  I would argue that this is not necessarily an alternative work to Bradbury's original, but almost a add-on to the ideas professed in the novel.  Truffaut clearly has a close attachment to this fascist idea of censorship and wants to attack it in his own artistic medium.

Key Scene:  While the book burning moments are intense, nothing is quite as well executed as Montag's first moments of reading David Copperfield.

This is how a literary adaptation should be made and it is now one of my favorite Truffaut works, perhaps in need of a push out of obscurity.  Cinematically and metaphorically it serves as everything one should desire from film.  Getting a copy, all be it a bit pricey, is a must.

It Takes Two To Love, As It Takes Two To Hate: The Last Metro (1980)

If I have been consistent in my concern for Godard's flailing ability as a director as he moved into a post  60's era of filmmaking, I can say with some certainty that I have no concern whatsoever about the abilities and masterpieces produced by Francois Truffaut both during the French New Wave and well after his rather unconventional role in Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  As my previous reviews of Jules Et Jim and The 400 Blows, have shown, I thoroughly enjoy the work of Truffaut and my well established love for Shoot The Piano Player and Small Change make him one of my most well favored of French filmmakers.  Slap Catherine Deneuve and Gerard Depardieu into the picture and things could not be better, one could call The Last Metro Truffaut's answer to Kurosawa's Dodes'ka-den or a reflection of how Resistance fighters shaped the landscape of World War II Parisian life, however, I would be hard pressed to find a person who would flatly dismiss this film as anything less than perfect. What I have come to understand and love about Truffaut is that he often fabricates a complex, often organic narrative that seems traditional in every sense of the word, only to completely pull the plug out at the last moment, resulting in cinematic disarray that leaves viewers perplexed and ponderous, without ever losing the cool hip French stylings of the other face of the French New Wave.

The Last Metro centers on the experiences of a theater attempting to stay afloat with the constant oppressive gaze of Nazi's present in occupied France.  The current manager of the theater is Marion Steiner (Catherine Deneuve), who despite predominately being an actress, has undertook the role of manager in the disappearance of her husband at the first signs of Jewish persecution.  Entering into the picture, as well, is a young, well-regarded actor named Bernard Granger (Gerard Depardieu) who also finds himself at odds as a result of the war torn world of Paris.  Together they engage in a play, delivering performances to accepting crowds under the direction of the man who replaced Marion's husband, his former assistant Jean-Loup Cottins (Jean Poiret).  However, to the ignorance of the Nazi's present, as well as Bernard himself, Marion's husband Lucas (Heinz Bennett) has actually been providing directors notes to both Marion and Jean-Loup thus allowing him to continue directing pro-Jewish films literally right under the noses of the Nazi occupiers.  However, a set of Nazi intellectuals become suspicious and begin to do what they can to shut down the theater, a task they eventually succeed in doing, however, their actions are just a bit too late, as France is freed by allied forces and Lucas is allowed to leave hiding.  Unfortunately for him, Marion and Bernard had entered into an intimate affair while he was away something that clouds the closing portions of the film, an ending that is particularly meta in its narrative, as Truffaut pulls away the camera to review the stage and the actors occupying said stage as to suggests that everything is, after all, one big performance.

This notion of performance, and theatricality in particular, influence and construct the ebb and flow of The Last Metro.  The opening shots and interactions within the film suggest the relatively cramped spaces of theater stages as they relate to film sets and cinema in general.  Characters often engage with one another as though an audience is involved, facing out towards the camera, this is most obvious when we are initially introduced to the character of Bernard, all of which is furthered by the clear commentary added by the narrative being almost completely existent within the aforementioned theater.  The possibilities for Truffaut's choice to focus on the performative are likely endless, but I find two notions to his actions of note.  The first is the clear juxtaposition with the performance elements of Nazi soldiers and their entire political movement for that matter.  Truffaut is careful to paint the picture of a few soldiers within the Nazi lines as being good, but simply stuck in a system that forced them into uniform, leading to an inevitable performance, one that is rewarded when done properly.  Furthermore, it could be a cinematic and philosophic reflection on how we as individuals perform our currently assigned social roles, whether they be clear delineators like male/female or more abstract notions like captor/captive, Truffaut clearly means to analyze what goes into each performance and to what degree these performances are hiding, especially when this hiding could prove extremely fatal if found out at any moment.  It is an enigmatic film, but in classic Truffaut fashion, the story is so good you find yourself easily forgetting its necessity.

Key Scene:  The meeting of Bernard and Lucas is short, quick and awkward, but without a doubt the most important interaction in the film overall and a great moment of connection between two actors.  If you are reading this just as it goes up, Criterion is having a flash sale on all its DVD's and Blurays, one of which is The Last Metro, there is really no excuse not to own a copy.

For That, I Need A Clean Shirt: The 400 Blows (1959)

Truffaut and Godard stand as the two geniuses of The French New Wave, something I am sure I mentioned during my old review of Jules and Jim.  I am constantly reminded upon viewing either of their earlier works about how brilliant both filmmakers were during their youth.  Their style and narrative format have become resonant in the world of cinema since their introduction and both deserve equal praise.  However, the more work I see from the two directors, the more I realize that the two work in completely different spectrum of filmmaking.  Godard was clearly concerned with expanding the conventions of cinema from a visual standpoint, while Truffaut found more in rethinking narrative normalcy.  Both excelled in their respective pursuits, we see this with Breathless and we certainly see this with The 400 Blows.  Truffaut's film on a very basic level is about a kid rebelling against his parents; however, it is something much larger than that and what unfolds is a piece of film that is profound, earnest and individually its own.  Alongside introducing the world to the cinematic figure that is Antoine Doinel, Truffaut's film reminds viewers that in order to love a movie the characters and their experiences need not be dramatic but instead beautifully simple.

As noted above, The 400 Blows focuses on the experiences of a young boy named Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Leaud) as he wanders aimlessly between home and school in an unspecified section of Paris.  Clearly, indifferent to authority figures, Doinel defies his schoolteachers and mother on countless occasions, brushing of their physical attacks and acidic remarks with little care or concern.  In fact, Doinel is lacks such a concern for socially accepted behavior that he foolishly agrees to skip school, catching his mother having an affair with another man in the process.  It is at this point that the young boy's life begins to deteriorate.  Doinel becomes a point of vilification to some of the students who see him as a bully, while he becomes the prime suspect for all wrongdoing both at home and at school.  Doinel's behavior and lack of respect become so egregious that he is kicked out of school and subsequently avoids returning home.  Saddened by the loss of her son, Doinel's mother agrees to be kinder to him upon his return home.  This promise only lasts temporarily when Doinel returns to his bad behavior quite quickly, causing his mother and stepfather to become so aggravated with the boy that they ship him off to a reformatory.  Once again, Doinel's wily ways result in him being punished regularly and quite violently by the headmasters.  During a game of soccer, Doinel, pushed to the edge, pretends to retrieve a ball only to begin running for escape from the reformatory.  After successfully evading those chasing him, Doinel is shown running along the ocean and as he reaches the coast, he stops to look into the camera.  This occurrence breaks the fourth wall, thus reminding viewers that the young boy's story is now theirs as well.

Perhaps the division between Godard and Truffaut is not entirely one of visual over narrative concerns.  I would also argue that their basic assumptions of what it means to portray reality on film are decidedly opposing.  For Godard reality is a series of fabricated moments in which individuals engage in their own self-interests and often interact with one another in very hostile, if not violent, ways.  While the world of Truffaut is certainly hostile, particularly in a work like Shoot The Piano Player, it can be argued that at least one character within each of his films desires to affect change.  It is clear that Doinel's rebellion is problematic; however, what he is rebelling against is certainly justifiable.  In the world of The 400 Blows children are to be obedient and unquestioning in their actions while adults possess free reign over everything.  However, Doinel understand the absurdity of such logic, which is finally solidified when he catches his mother in an act of infidelity, the consequences of which is an explosive realization that adult sensibilities are a lie.  Ultimately, Doinel's tale is one of a child becoming disillusioned at far too young of an age to affect change positively.  Although I have yet to see Truffaut's other films involving Doinel, I can imagine his character struggles with ethics throughout them, and who can blame him considering the lack of proper teaching directed at him.  It could be said that Truffaut's film criticizes French, particularly Parisian, society for their misguided attempts at social values and its over arching affects on youth.  Fortunately, Truffaut would go on to deal with this issue much more thoughtfully in Small Change, a film which reminds viewers that children are to be dealt with sternly and reminded of the tragic world they exist in, yet it is also important to foster their creativity and allow them to maintain a decent amount of imagination.

The 400 Blows is easily one of the most important films ever made.  It is referenced alongside films like Citizen Kane and Seven Samurai, and deservedly so.  Owning a copy should be obvious, particularly considering the recent Bluray upgrade from Criterion.

It's Not Psychology, It's Metaphysics: Jules and Jim (1962)

Every romantic comedy involving an awkward and convoluted triangle love affair has Francois Truffaut to thank, his 1962 masterpiece Jules and Jim.  Truffaut's film, very much lodged in the ideals of The French New Wave, portrays two stalwart friends and a sexually free woman engaging in an intimate relationship in every sense of the word.  The stylistic nature of New Wave filmmaking allows Truffaut to portray the frantic nature of love between multiple people by undercutting dialogue, jumping to reactions early and even inserting long inexplicable shots of the natural world around the characters, all adding a genuine feeling of spontaneity to experiencing love.  Truffaut, as he does with many of his films, captures the essence of human nature, often focusing on the tragedies of existence, but always reminding viewers that even the most dire of situations can procure moments of happiness.  Jules And Jim is an unconventional look at the trials and tribulations that is at all times honest, absurd and heartfelt.  It should be no surprise that the film is tied very closely to Truffaut's own life experiences, a practice reflected in many of his works, most notably The 400 Blows.

The title characters Jules (Oskar Werner) and Jim (Henri Serre) are the ideal male pal combination.  Jules an Austrian novelist and critic and Jim a French poet find themselves enamored with each others intellect and love for the written word.  Throughout the early portions of the film they find themselves perusing the nooks and crannies of Paris, often translating the seminal literary works of each ones respective countries and relating it to their own seemingly mundane lives.  It is assumed that their rather repetitive existence promises to remain untouched, however, when both of them meet the quirky, yet attractive Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) infatuation occurs instantly, for both Jules and Jim find themselves attempting to win over the heart...and body of Catherine.  After a variety of humorous competitions, mostly of a verbal nature, it is Jules who wins Catherine over and takes her to live on the Parisian countryside.  Jim accepts his loss and succumbs to loneliness.  Both accept their situations and even fight a in a war that pits them against one another and all seems fine, however, a few months after the war Jules invites Jim to visit him at his country home.  While doing so, Catherine, whether inadvertent or not, seduces Jim and the two begin to confess their previous feelings.  After a series of miscommunications and letters, Jim discovers that he is to be the father of Catherine's child.  However, Catherine loses the child, but not her affection for Jim.  In a rather awkward moment, Jules catches Catherine and Jim in a moment of intimacy, but chooses to pretend it never occurred and instead passively asks for Jim to remove himself from their home.  Realizing that she is madly in love with Jim, Catherine drives herself and Jim off a bridge into water to assure that they can be together in death.  The film then cuts to Jules, narrating the funeral of both Catherine and Jim explaining that Catherine's casket was relatively small, while Jim's was quite large, reflecting his rather grandiose nature.  This final commentary by Jules says it all, the relationship that proved most important was the one between two friends, who know each others most intimate secrets and that Catherine, for all intents and purposes, ruined their bond both figuratively by becoming a romantic interference and literally by killing Jim, thus separating him from Jules indefinitely.

As I noted this film is a very intimate work on the part of Francois Truffaut, particularly because this film is quite reflective of his close, though brief, relationship with Jean-Luc Godard.  Godard and Truffaut share the spotlight in The French New Wave and film critics continue to debate which individual can claim rulership as the film movement's leader.  The duo built their close relationship while working as film critics for the Cahiers Du Cinema and began making short films as side projects; often incorporating each others help as it proved necessary.  The ultimate result was the creation of two distinctly different directors that just happened to use a lot of the same methods.  In fact, the two worked so closely that many actors appeared in both directors' films and both directors borrowed the others unused footage.  Their friendship proved most productive with the release of Breathless, a film written by Francois Truffaut and directed by Jean-Luc Godard.  Both Godard and Truffaut received international acclaim for this film, as did Truffaut for the previously mentioned film The 400 Blows.  It seemed as tough Truffaut and Godard were destined to be best friends for life and continue to work in collaboration well past the fall of The French New Wave.  This change, however, with the rise in workers revolutions in France during the early 1960's.  Godard and Truffaut found themselves promoting differing political ideologies during the revolts high points.  Their relative views became so severe that the duo broke off their friendship and ceased contact up to the point of Truffaut's death in 1984.  In my opinion this film reflects this occurrence in Truffaut's life, even if it predates the actual fallout between the two directors.  Jules is intended to represent Godard, particularly given the directors Swiss origins and Jim is undoubtedly Truffaut a fact that is only made more probable by Godard previously making a film titled Charlotte Et Son Jules.  Jules and Jim end their relationship and fail to rekindle it before Jim's death and the same thing occurred between Godard and Truffaut.  I know this all implies that Truffaut is a psyching, but I am not saying it is meant to reflect it perfectly; instead it just shows how much a director like Truffaut pulled from personal experience for his films.  Perhaps this helps to explain the intimate and very honest nature of the late director's work.

This is one of the staples of art house cinema and one of Truffaut's finest outings.  I highly recommend checking the film out and getting the Criterion release, because the supplements are phenomenal.