Still time to catch Monsieur Hulot

Press, 6 October 1980, Page 12

Still time to catch Monsieur Hulot

AT THE CINEMA

Hans Petrovic

When mentioning the names Jacques Tati or Monsieur Hulot, the response usually is a blank stare, or the very occasional knowing smile.

Obviously, Tati’s four films with his comic creation, M. Hulot, are not that well known in New Zealand and it must be quite some time since these idiosyncratic comedies last his the screen here.

Unfortunately, the films — "Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday” (1953), "Mon Oncle” (1958), "Playtime” (1967) and “Traffic” (1971) — are showing at the Savoy for only one unpublicised week before they return to their undeserved place in cinematic limbo.

Probably, these satires of the trials and tribulations of modern life would have been better received at an “arty” cinema like the Academy; because the main reaction I have encountered is surprise that four French comedies could be shown in town under only a "G” censorship rating.

The only objection to these gentle comedies may be the way in which they hilariously point out human foibles, while their main message could be summed up as: if dogs and little boys are no longer allowed to run free, then life is not worth living. The first two will have their final screenings today, while the others will continue until Thursday.

In “Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday,” the writer-director-actor, Tati, first introduced his main character (Hulot) as a benign, lanky giant who strides through a holiday at a seaside hotel (the later Fawlty Towers?), unwittingly leaving consternation, if not chaos, in his path. In his inimitable manner, Hulot manages to squeeze in a tennis game, a boating incident, a fancy-dress ball, horse riding and even a fireworks display.

There also are a number of incidents which remain in the memory for years: the incredible movements of the paint pot with the in-and-out-going waves while Hulot tries to paint his kayak (I still do not know how they managed that); and the running joke about the sagging hunk of fudge on a stick, which he always manages to

rescue before it hits the ground. The film also shows some shades of things to come in the later, more modernistic films, with the runaway tyre which ends up being used as a wreath at a nearby funeral. , By the time of his second appearance in “Mon Oncle.’ Hulot’s character was already well defined. He wears a crumpled raincoat, far too short for his lanky figure, which sets off his gangly legs even more, and he constantly carries an umbrella, rain or shine. His pants are too short, revealing a section of absurdly striped socks; he also wears a sporty looking hat and clenches a long-stemmed pipe in his teeth. This outfit may not sound too remarkable, but on a figure like Hulot, with his lanky walk, it certainly stands out in a crowd and has become the character s trademark. “Mon Oncle” shows Hulot at odds with his sister and brother in law in their ultra - modern suburban home, which has everything that opens and shuts — but not always at the right time. Hulot is hounded by dogs, which can be the bane or delight of his life, but many other things are also encroaching on his uncomplicated existence: A fish fountain that spouts water at unexpected times and places in the garden, and a run-amuck plastics extrusion machine which produces sausageshaped piping are just beyond his comprehension. At times, he and his nephew escape to the older parts of Paris, with its casual market place, a street sweeper who never sweeps and, to the boy’s and audience’s delight, the trick of well-timed whistling which makes people walk into lamp posts. Eventually, Hulot is

packed off to the provinces, while Paris is being demolished. Seen today, these two films may appear a little too arch, stylised or just odd. But during the 19505, “Mon Oncle” certainly was recognised as a warning to ways of life many of which we now accept as commonplace. Hulot’s personal battle against sophistication and modernisation continues in the last two films, “Playtime” and ••Traffic," which begin tomorrow. In “Playtime,” he returns to an almost unrecognisable Paris, where the city’s famous monuments may be seen only fleetingly in reflections from the doors and windows of new glass skyscrapers. In this film, the memorable scenes are the climax of a chaotic opening of a nightclub. The doorman obligingly opens the glass doors for guests, and even continues to do so after the door is shattered, leaving him holding only the door handle. The glass, of course, is put into ice buckets.

Many consider “Playtime" to be Tati’s best work although, by the little I remember of this effort, I still prefer “Mon Oncle.” “Traffic” has Hulot trying to transport a camper-car to a motor show in Amsterdam, with all the predictable adventures along the way. Tati, the creator, has often been likened to Chaplin (particularly in “Modern Times”) and there is no doubt that the early silent screen comedian had a direct influence on him.

Thinking over the more recent years, I feel certain that the jerky, hesitating, angular walk which Peter Sellers used in many of his films was modelled on Tati’s style. Possibly, even Woody Allen gained some inspiration from Tati for his commentaries on life; although Allen has now branched away from sheer comedy to a more straightforward viewpoint.

Some critics have gone so far as to suggest a parallel between Tati’s works and Fellini’s personal visions in “Roma” and “Satyricon.” However, I think this is stretching the analogies too far.