The wonderful world of Jacques Tati and the art of observation
An introduction to my favorite filmmaker and artist
It is August, and it is summer. And one of my favorite things to do as a human being (lol) is submersing myself in films and art and food of the current season. Makes life more fun that way. And we all need a good go-to summer film collection. So, this is a perfect time to introduce you to one of my favorite filmmakers and a personal core source of summer (and life) inspiration: Jacques Tati.
I was first introduced to the French director through Playtime. A whimsical 1 hour and 55 minutes of choreographed incidents and glass windows and doors in a futuristic Paris. I remember being mesmerized by the sets and the small details, and the fact that I had spent almost 2 hours watching a film without a single close up or zoom.
Jacques Tatischeff, born in 1907 in the western suburbs of Paris, France, was into sports before going into film. Tennis and horse riding. He then became a mime. And was very good at it. He only started his directorial debut at the age of 40. And despite having only directed 6 feature-length films, one of which led him to bankruptcy, Tati is considered one of the greatest movie directors of all time. So, what makes Tati films so special?
When you watch a Tati film, you are not really told a traditional story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. There isn’t necessarily a plot, and there are no main characters. Primarily, you are observing. Because at the heart of Jacques Tati, is an observer. You are presented a world, and in most cases Tati’s character, Mr. Hulot—played by Tati himself— who, with very little dialogue and emotionality, stumbles into everyday scenarios and interactions, and, in a way, becomes an audience to every other character’s performance. (How Erving Goffman of Tati.) The world often feels robotic and repetitive, a visual representation of modern society and consumerism, and yet, through Tati’s appreciation for the ordinary person and ordinary moments, you are reminded of the warmth and the fun of being human.
Take Playtime for example. Considered Tati’s masterpiece and most ambitious piece as it took 9 years to make and most of Tati’s money, Playtime is set in a modern futuristic Paris, a cinema town built just for the movie, a Tativille of grey glass windows and doors, busy cubicles (remember the Mattel offices in the recent Barbie?), a convention for new houseware products, and the opening of a new restaurant. You are introduced to Mr. Hulot, as well as a group of American tourists, one of which finds herself in different spaces with Mr. Hulot throughout the film. As a viewer, you are experiencing Tativille through both the eyes of a clumsy observer who doesn’t quite fit in and a foreigner.
“There's no star, no one person is important, everybody is; you are as important as I can be. It's a democracy of gags and comics - the personality of people regarding an architecture that people have decided for us to live in, without asking us whether we agree or not. In the end, we all win in the sense that we still talk to each other; if anything goes wrong, we're still partners, and some small people are still allowed to be important.”
I listened to an old radio interview with Jacques Tati a few years ago. He talks about service workers and going about your day without taking notice of the strangers you interact with. And how we may have forgotten how to observe well. Listening to him speak so eloquently about a restaurant waiter really made it clear to me the heart of Jacques Tati. He takes notice of the not-so-noticeable, the background performers, the quiet and the hidden. He highlights what you don’t think to be important and reminds you that it matters.
One of my favorite things in film are long takes of a single action or moment without music. Just watching someone do or be something for a while, there’s something so moving and exciting in scenes like these for me. Jacques Tati loves long takes, too. You’ll be watching a man walk down a long hallway towards you for 2 minutes. And all you can hear are his squeaky shoes. I love that about Tati films, too. His use of sound. Our repetitive movements, our awkward conversations and life’s unplanned incidents to the soundtrack of everyday noise. It seems to bring out the odd charm and humor of living. Reminds me of my favorite Tati scene in Trafic (1971), a film centered around a car show. The scene is a multi-car accident choreographed like a theatrical performance. It’s brilliantly sweet and funny. I like to believe Tati saw the world as a dance, a ballet, with a side of melancholy.
“I want to defend those who are a little bit distant, a little bit erased from this category [of main character]. This life is made for the top four of the class, the same way it is made for the first four singers, the same way it is made for the first four filmmakers, and I want to defend those who aren’t always top of their class.”
Other Tati works include Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (or Mr. Hulot’s Holiday), a delightful summer getaway and a reminder of the sweet simplicities of this season.
If you are just as mesmerized by Tati’s world as I am by now, might I also suggest watching his short film Cours du Soir, where Mr. Hulot teaches a group of educated men simple activities like how to light a cigarette or how to trip while going down the stairs.
Tati didn’t consider himself a brilliant filmmaker. Playtime flopped when it first came out. And he passed away believing he had failed. But, he created his films the way he imagined them. And adored them. Today, he is one of the biggest inspirations to the greatest filmmakers of our time, like David Lynch. Life is odd that way. We fall in love with the art only when the artist is no longer here to witness it. Tati’s films will continue to inspire. They will continue to remind us that we don’t need to be extraordinary to matter. That there is joy and humor in the simple, ordinary moments. They remind us to take the time to pay attention and to listen. And that if we choose to, we can move through our boring everydays like a fantastical dance.