Showing posts with label Francois Truffaut. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Francois Truffaut. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

#2,319. Hitchcock / Truffaut (2016)


Directed By: Kent Jones

Starring: Alfred Hitchcock, Francois Truffaut, David Fincher



Tag line: "The Greatest Story Hitchcock Ever Told"

Trivia: Kent Jones went over 27 hours of recorded material from the Hitchcok Truffaut interview








Initially published in 1966, Hitchcock / Truffaut was one of the first movie-related books I ever owned (I picked it up when I was in high school), and to this day I still occasionally thumb through its pages. Featuring a series of interviews that Francois Truffaut conducted with Alfred Hitchcock (Truffaut’s friend Helen Scott acted as translator), the book is an exhaustive examination of Hitchcock’s career, from the silent era through to his later Hollywood films, and is today considered an invaluable resource for filmmakers and fans alike.

Hitchcock / Truffaut, a 2016 documentary directed by Kent Jones, takes us behind-the-scenes of the writing of this great book, with audio clips of the actual interviews and still photographs of the two men seated at a table, picking apart what is arguably the single most impressive body of work in cinematic history.

This alone would be enough to capture the heart of every die-hard movie buff. But by delving into its subject matter even further, inviting modern-day filmmakers to offer their take on Hitchcock’s career while also giving us a brief history of both the men who made this book a reality, Hitchcock / Truffaut also has something for the casual fan, and is the perfect starting point for younger cinephiles who may not be familiar with the Master of Suspense or his filmography.

In addition, director Jones throws in a few tidbits about Truffaut’s early directorial efforts, with clips from such classics as The 400 Blows and Jules et Jim, reminding us that, along with penning such an essential book, Francois Truffaut was an extraordinary filmmaker in his own right.

Among the directors who discuss Hitchcock, including how his movies influenced their own work, are such modern-day masters as David Fincher, Martin Scorsese, Wes Anderson, and Richard Linklater. But they do more than just praise Hitchcock; they take part in a lengthy analysis of some of the great director’s best-known films, like Vertigo and Psycho. By doing so, Hitchcock / Truffaut proves itself to be more than a companion piece to a classic book; it is also a world-class documentary that takes us beyond the margins, giving us more than we hoped for.







Monday, November 3, 2014

#1,540. The Wild Child (1970)


Directed By: François Truffaut

Starring: François Truffaut, Jean-Pierre Cargol, Françoise Seigner



Tag line: "At last an adult film to which you can take your children"

Trivia: This film is based o an actual incident that occurred in France at the beginning of the 19th century






Francois Truffaut’s 1970 film The Wild Child is based on the true tale of Victor of Aveyron, a young man who spent the majority of his adolescence living in the wild. A so-called “feral child”, he was placed in the custody of Dr. Jean-Marc Gaspard Itard, a physician who dedicated 5 years of his life to trying to teach Victor how to communicate with others. Shot in black and white, The Wild Child takes a very basic approach to Victor’s story, yet manages to convey the frustration that both he and Itard felt over the course of the boy’s training.

After being captured by hunters, a boy (Jean-Pierre Cargol) who, for most of his life, lived on his own in the wild, is brought to the Paris Institute for the Dead and Dumb, where Dr. Itard (played by director Truffaut) takes a special interest in his case. Relocating the boy, who he would nickname “Victor”, to his home in the country, Dr. Itard, with the help of his housekeeper Madame Guérin (Françoise Seigner), sets to work teaching the young man the finer points of the French language, a task that proves to be much more aggravating than it is rewarding.

Aside from the first half-hour or so of the film, which deals with the boy’s capture and eventual transfer to the institute, The Wild Child focuses primarily on the training sessions set up by Dr. Itard, which, despite the occasional success (Victor learns to identify the letters of the alphabet), are a definite challenge (whenever the boy gets frustrated, he lashes out, tossing objects across the room or writhing around on the ground as if he was having an epileptic seizure). The performances are quite good (especially Jean-Pierre Cargol as Victor), but it’s the straightforward manner in which Truffaut relates this story (like using the “iris in”, a time-honored cinematic technique dating back to the silent era, to focus our attention on a specific area of the frame) that makes The Wild Child such an engaging motion picture.

With The Wild Child, Francois Truffaut once again explores a theme close to his heart: that of a youngster who doesn’t fit in with “normal” society. His first movie, The 400 Blows, a semi-autobiographical work in many respects, was about a confused adolescent dealing with the injustices heaped upon him by parents and teachers alike. Naturally, the situation in The Wild Child is much more severe; this time around, the young man at the center of it all has no experience whatsoever with the outside world, entering society with all the innocence of a newborn. Yet the premise remains just as strong; like Antoine Doinel in The 400 Blows, Victor is striving to find his way in the world, and it’s fitting that both movies conclude with a close-up of their central character’s face, each looking as puzzled as ever. Their stories may have come to an end, but for Antoine and Victor, the search for inner peace carries on well after the credits roll.







Friday, September 7, 2012

#753. The 400 Blows (1959)


Directed By: Francois Truffaut

Starring: Jean-Pierre Léaud, Albert Rémy, Claire Maurier





Trivia: The title of the film comes from the French idiom "faire les quatre cents coups", meaning "to raise hell"








Prior to becoming a filmmaker, Francois Truffaut was a rather vociferous movie critic, writing for, among others, the French periodical Cahiers du Cinema. His reviews were often scathing, and rubbed some in the French film industry the wrong way, so much so that he was barred from attending the 1958 Cannes Film Festival. 

One year later, his debut film, The 400 Blows not only premiered at Cannes, but also won Truffaut the award as the Festival’s best director!

The 400 Blows was the first of five Truffaut-directed pictures to center on the exploits of Antoine Doinel, who, in each entry, is played by Jean-Pierre Léaud. As the story opens, Doinel is a fourteen-year-old Paris schoolboy whose reputation as a troublemaker is well known. He is constantly being disciplined at school, and has even skipped class on a number of occasions to hang out with his friend, Rene (Patrick Auffay). 

Antoine’s home life is equally unstable. His mother, Gilberte (Claire Maurier), resents her son’s presence and treats him harshly, whereas his adopted father, Julien (Albert Rémy), makes several attempts to connect with the boy, though he, too, can be distant at times. As his behavior worsens, everyone agrees that a drastic change is in order, one that will hopefully set young Antoine back on the straight and narrow.

The 400 Blows was something of an autobiographical work for Truffaut, who was raised by his mother and step-father and got into his share of trouble as a child. Though occasionally the victim of adult tyranny, there are also moments in The 400 Blows where we’re shocked by Antoine’s behavior. When chastised by a teacher (Guy Decomble) for missing school the day before, Antoine lies and tells him he was absent because his mother had died. 

Of course, as Truffaut points out, those surrounding Antoine must share the blame for his questionable conduct. His parents are, at best, indifferent to him, while his teachers are so busy pontificating on the failures of the parents that they miss their opportunity to correct the situation. 

Everything in The 400 Blows is presented in a highly realistic fashion, with an almost documentary-like approach. There are no tearful confessions, no life-affirming changes; Antoine remains, from start to finish, a lost child, as evident in the famous final shot: a freeze-frame of the boy running aimlessly along a beach, leaving us to wonder how long it will be before he finds his way in the world.

Unlike his New Wave counterpart Jean-Luc Godard, whose movies were often revolutionary in their structure, Francois Truffaut always maintained a level of emotional control over his films, almost all of which were, if nothing else, sincere. The 400 Blows served as our introduction to both this gifted director and his unique vision, and, as such, is a motion picture to be treasured.







Wednesday, March 14, 2012

#576. Jules and Jim (1962)


Directed By: François Truffaut

Starring: Jeanne Moreau, Oskar Werner, Henri Serre




Trivia:  Jean Renoir was a fan of this film, and wrote Truffaut a letter saying how much he liked it. Truffaut carried that letter around for years afterward








Jules and Jim is the chronicle of a failed experiment, undertaken by three people who loved each other very much, yet were done in by their inability to separate friendship from romance. 

Jules (Oskar Werner), a shy German living in Paris, is good friends with Jim (Henri Serre), an outgoing Frenchman. Their relationship blossoms in the days leading up to World War I, and together, they experience all the Parisian single life has to offer. When Jules’ friend, Albert (Boris Bassiak), shows the two a picture of an ancient statue, one that depicts a beautiful woman, both Jules and Jim fall instantly in love with it, and agree that, if they ever found a girl whose features resembled this work of art, they'd immediately claim her as their own. This quest for the perfect mate ends the day they’re introduced to Catherine (Jeanne Moreau), who has every quality, every ounce of beauty Jules and Jim have been searching for. Before long, each one is deeply in love with her, and Catherine, herself a free spirit, cares equally for both Jules and Jim. Through the years, the friends will take turns loving her, yet ultimately, the unpredictable Catherine is a treasure neither can truly possess. 

At first, Catherine appears to be the physical embodiment of the statue Jules and Jim had become enamored with, and Truffaut frames her as such at their first meeting, capturing Moreau’s facial features by employing the same camera angles presented in Albert’s photos. But Catherine proves much more complex than this idealized image of her, and her feelings for both dooms any chance of a relationship with either. This, in turn, leads to an unsettling exposition of Jules’ and Jim’s friendship. They consent to share Catherine, convincing themselves such an unusual situation, where romance and camaraderie are treated as one, may present the perfect condition for love to blossom. Yet the arrangement leaves them feeling unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Werner and Serre are strong in their respective roles, but Jules and Jim belongs to Moreau. As Catherine, she's the picture of beauty, and despite her character's flightiness, we have no problem believing a pair of friends would do whatever they could to have her, even if it meant sharing. 

Neither Jules nor Jim were prepared for this so-called ‘perfect’ union, and one might argue Catherine, in spite of her apparent worldliness, was also out of her league. These three truly believed they were standing on the threshold of a wonderful new way of life, which would forever replace the notion that two is the ideal romantic number. In the end, it blew up in their faces.







Monday, August 23, 2010

#17. Day For Night (1973)

DVD Synopsis: The leading lady is recovering from a nervous breakdown, another performer is soused on the set, unions threaten to walk, shooting must somehow finish before the insurance lapses and a cat needed for a scene can't hit its mark. Is this any way to make a film? Mais Oui!













If you love movies, then Francois Truffaut’s Day for Night is a must-see. For one, the film provides a behind-the-scenes look at life on a movie set, and the lengths to which a filmmaker will go to ensure everything is just right (at one point, the director, played by Truffaut himself, authorizes the theft of a vase from their hotel’s lobby because it’ll look perfect in the dining room scene).   But more than this, Day for Night is, at its heart, a respectful homage to the art of making movies. 

In a wonderful flashback segment, the director, as a young boy, is shown stealing a handful of still photos from the classic film Citizen Kane, which were on display at his neighborhood movie house. To most people, such a theft would seem like little more than a precocious kid stirring up trouble. For the boy, these stills signified his passion, his strong desire to possess a piece of something that had touched him deeply. Movies were undoubtedly Truffaut’s passion, and Day for Night stands as his testament to that obsession. 

How fitting that this love letter to the cinema, so wonderfully realized, would be regarded a classic in its own right.