The Illusionist

2010 French cartoon

Rating: 18/20

Plot: The titular magician's getting old, and with the emerging popularity of rock 'n' roll musicians, so is his act involving a squirrely rabbit and various objects stuffed up his sleeve. He travels to Scotland where he befriends a young maid named Alice. She travels with him to England where he struggles with his art and uses his meager funds to buy her shoes and dresses.

Ventriloquist, by the way, is a "belly talker" as ventri means belly and loqu means talk. Latin roots. Engastrimyth is from the Greek and means "stomach talker." I figured you'd find that interesting.

I love Tati, I love French whimsy, I loved Chomet's The Triplets of Belleville, and I was pretty sure I would love this movie. I might not be right about a lot of things, but I was about that. There's a wonderful texture to Chomet's 2D animation. A scene near the end with a shadow makes me tear up just thinking about it, but there are all kinds of tiny details that I just loved in this--the radiance of a jukebox, shadows over golden grasslands, a twist of a coat in front of a mirror, window reflections, the clown nose of the downtrodden. The style and the settings make me nostalgic, and I'm not even sure why. I've never been to Scotland, France, or England. But there's just something about the way the places and backgrounds are drawn. I loved the way this film looked. And like Triplets, I love the way Chomet has his characters move. Again, he exaggerates the grotesqueness of human beings, putting the needle on the old quirk-meter well into red. The hup-hup-hupping acrobats. The melancholy clown (a scene where he listens to calliope music alone in his room is just beautiful). The little fellows who run the hotel. The ventriloquist and his dummy (loved that first appearance of the dummy!). The way the rock band sashays off the stage. They all interact in a nearly dialogue-free little world because words just aren't that necessary. All you need to do is watch a handful of silent films to find that out. This has that silent film funk but with a slightly more complex range of human emotions. Inferences need to be made, and there's definitely some wiggle room here, allowing for a variety of hunches about what's going on with these characters. I'm definitely the type of movie watcher who's moved more by imagery than words, and it's great how Chomet tells so much story without having to explain things with any superfluous language. And then you've got the Tati influence. It's Tati's story, personal and heartbreaking, and this medium is perfect for capturing the Hulot mannerisms, the Tati-type sight gags, and the overall flavor. Chomet does capture Tati's movements very well, from the way he chases after his rabbit to his careful maneuvering over an extension cord. It felt good seeing Tati again even if it was just an animated version of him. Maybe that's where the feelings of nostalgia come from. This might have a little more sentimentality than Tati's live action films, but it's that sentimentality of the aforementioned silents and therefore feels very comfortable to me. Comfortable is a good word for this maybe. The French have this way of making movies that you inhale instead of just watch. They're movies that are like old shoes, and this is a real old shoe of a movie, one that feels like it's just always been there, more beautiful because of its dust and scratches and the fact that it smells just like my old foot.

Jour de Fete

1949 French comedy

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Francois the postman delivers mail via bicycle in a quiet French town as its inhabitants prepare for the arrival of the annual fair. When he sees a short film at the cinema on America postmen, he envies their speed and reputation and becomes determined to match their rapidity.

It's shame this isn't readily available, and I'm surprised this wasn't Criterionized before the inferior Trafic. This is Tati's first film, before M. Hulot came along, and like his later and better known projects, this is a charming and quiet look at the humor of the everyday lives of everyday people, heavily inspired by silent slapstick classics and funny enough to force a few grins. Actually, I don't see how it's possible for anybody to watch this movie without having a goofy grin on his face from beginning to end. There's lots of great visual humor (a runaway bike, a ringing church bell, a romantic movie advertisement, a drunken bike ride, a race) and a lot more dialogue than in his other movies. Not that the dialogue adds much. The entire movie feels like a subplot filled with subplots, miniature stories without beginnings or endings that give the town and its people character. Unsurprisingly, there's a humorous criticism of a rapidly modernizing society and a gentle reminder about the importance of slowing down. I would some day like to live in a small town that has a hunchbacked old lady who walks around with a goat and narrates everybody's activities. This movie also made me want to own chickens. Add that to the shane-movies blog Christmas wish list with those other things I asked for.

Mon Oncle

1958 French satire

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Hulot meanders back and forth between two worlds. His is a raucous antiquated life in town, drenched in the traditions and sweat of the working class. His sister's is an ultra-chic, ultra-modern world with fish fountains, electronic gadgets, and gimmicky [dis]comforts. Much to her husband's dismay, she continually gets Hulot's help with their son who adores his uncle. She also tries to get him a job at her husband's factory or hook him up with the neighbor lady.

Thought I'd revisit this to make sure I didn't like it more than I thought I did. And I'm not sure if it's because this was the first film de Jacques Tati that I saw (I think it was anyway) or because I just didn't pay any attention, but I was way off on this one. This is right up there with his best with sight gag after sight gag and some of those trademark delicate satirical stabs. It's a funny movie, maybe even funnier, if not as poetic and playfully artistic, as Holiday. Favorite gags: the house's eyes watching Hulot's escape from the garden, the footprints at the interview, chaos at a garden party which would amuse Bunuel, Hulot's attempts to figure out the kitchen, the shot of Hulot's serpentine walk to his apartment, and the ingeniously choreographed dance number at the end. I'll always insist that the best thing about these movies is all the stuff that doesn't matter--the subplots that go nowhere, wandering dogs, fringe characters, the distractions.

Mr. Hulot's Holiday

1953 comedy

Rating: 18/20

Plot: The most awkward man who ever lived vacations at a beachside resort and ruins the lives of nearly everybody else.

Gotta love a movie that can meander so aimlessly and shuffle along so pointlessly for an hour an a half. Nothing about this is uproariously funny, but there is a lot that makes me smile. It's fragile slapstick, and although the title character is always at the center of things, there's enough going on with the fringe characters to make them interesting, too. I imagine this is a like-it-or-hate-it type flick, but even those who aren't put under the spell and instead are put to sleep would have to admit that it's got a uniqueness that makes it endearing. There are ingenious sight gags that stick with you, some which will make you wonder how they were pulled off, and new pleasures reveal themselves with subsequent viewings. This is my second favorite Tati movie.

Quick gripe: Why is the American version of this thirty minutes shorter? If it turns out I'm missing a Hulot sex scene, I will likely write an angry letter.

L' Iceberg

2005 Belgium romantic comedy

Rating: 15/20 (Jen: 13/20)

Plot: A woman suffers through a night in a restaurant freezer only to realize that her husband and two children didn't even realize she was missing. She becomes upset and begins an obsession with the cold and with burly sailors. She flees her dull life for one with a little more excitement and adventure. And ice.

Really enjoyed this cutesy and charming little romantic comedy. Extremely humorous--dry and charcoal gray if not black--and quirky with well-structured shots and fine performances.

A nod to J. Tati's films, especially with the use of intelligent and poetic slapsticky humor (see also Chaplin and Buster) and the lack of dialogue. In fact, the director(s) almost seemed to be using dialogue as a game--inserting one-sided phone conversations in which the character would be asking the same, obviously unanswered questions; arguments mumbled into pillows that neither the audience or character can understand; and numerous attempts to converse with a deaf man. The camera didn't flinch throughout the movie, and the situations were set up perfectly within the confines of the shots. Much to laugh at--the husband's spontaneous reactions, a surprise driver, a weird love scene (I think), old people, possibly the greatest dancing scene in the history of film, the A.M. iceberg sheets, another old person, a scuffle. I probably laughed outloud more than I actually should have, but I am not ashamed.

Here are Jen and I laughing admiring L' Iceberg: