Jacques Tati. Perhaps the last great master of stylish visual comedy. It's not quite silent, but not quite a modern sound film either. An absolute masterpiece in its scope and entertainment value, and its joy.

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Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #4108 in DVD
• Released on: 2004-09-06
• Rating: Universal, suitable for all
• Aspect ratio: 1.78:1
• Number of discs: 2
• Formats: Anamorphic, PAL, Widescreen
• Original language: English, French, German
• Number of discs: 1
• Running time: 125 minutes

Synopsis
Jacques Tati's spectacular cinematic art reached its peak in the gargantuan achievement of this film, PLAYTIME. Marking the third appearance of Tati's Mr. Magoo-like character, Mr. Hulot, PLAYTIME takes as its subject modern technology and its sometimes disastrous and always hilarious effects on the people living within it. As in most Tati films, a minimal plot (the parallel paths of Hulot and a group of American tourists), is held together by a seamless ballet of visual, aural, and conceptual gags. Tati constructed an enormous set, Tativille, rendering a high modern contemporary Paris decked in chrome, mirrors, and glass within which the surreal slapstick of PLAYTIME unfolds. Filmed in 70mm Technicolor, with sound recorded on a seven-channel stereo, the film approaches the city from a bird's eye perspective showing the complex yet abstract machinations of people and their technologies, with each character linked to the other and the whole ensemble dependant on the giant grid of the modern city. Objects, people, and sounds vie for the viewer's attention and all exert equal fascination and comedic power in the circus of Tati's modern life. From the airport to the high rise to the nightclub, Hulot weaves in and out of view, leaving a trail of bumped heads, offended sensibilities and curious glances in his wake

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Customer Reviews

Whether it's a masterpiece or a failure or both, Playtime remains an essential Tati movie
Why was Playtime a failure, sending Jacques Tati into bankruptcy and costing him control over his life's work of films? His previous film, My Uncle, had been a commercial and artistic success. M. Hulot's Holiday and Jour de Fete had gained Tati world-wide recognition and respect. He had become recognized as one of the few authentic geniuses of film.

Watch Playtime and I think you'll find the answer. Tati in his earlier films placed Hulot in situations where we could empathize with him. Hulot was an innocent. As we came to like him, we also came to like the people he encountered. Even with their pretensions and idiosyncrasies, we could see something of ourselves in them. Tati might be holding up a mirror for us to look in, but M. Hulot was such a gentle companion that we smiled as we recognized ourselves.

With Playtime, there is little Hulot. Instead, we have Tati's view on all sorts of social and cultural issues, from the sterility he saw in much of modern life to modern architecture, group behavior, impersonal offices, loneliness, boorishness and American tourists. We're observers, and our job is to share Tati's viewpoint. Hulot, now middle-aged, has become a minor player in the film. In his earlier movies, Tati was careful to give us small numbers of people with whom, along with Hulot, we could come to know. In My Uncle, for instance, it was essentially one family and one modern home, along with Hulot's own apartment and his neighbors. In M. Hulot's Holiday, it was a small seaside hotel and its guests. With Playtime, we have a large, impersonal office building, all glass and right angles, filled with people -- employees, visitors, exposition guests, customers. Then we have an apartment building with huge curtain-less windows allowing the pedestrians to look right in, and we're among the pedestrians. Then we have a nightclub filled with customers, waiters and managers. There is little opportunity to get to know any of these people, much less develop affection for them.

However, as with all his movies, Tati fills Playtime with streams of intricate and carefully developed comic situations (although comic is too broad a term), often that build from small happenings we've barely noticed. There is only sporadic and incidental dialogue, but sound effects are vital to the movie, as subtle and amusing as what we see.

As sterile and unattractive as Tati makes the airport, the office building, a convenience store and the apartment, there are such odd and subtle sights as the bobbing wimple wings on two nuns, a floor sweeper staring at a booted officer, Hulot suddenly sliding down a floor, glass windows and doors impossible to tell if they're there or not, a table lamp that dispenses cigarettes, strange-looking and wobbling food at a self-service counter...and the list simply goes on. And it's not just one thing at a time. Tati can fill a screen with all sorts of amusing occurrences, some happening in the foreground, some in back, some at the sides.

The last hour of the movie takes place in a modern nightclub, the Royal Garden, which has just opened and is barely ready for its customers. A dance floor tile sticks to a maitre d's shoe, a fish is ostentatiously finished table-side by a waiter...then finished again and again by mistake while the two customers ooh and ah. A bow tie falls in the sauce. A bus-load of tourists suddenly appear. When Hulot manages to accidently shatter one of the glass doors to the restaurant, it is a culmination to all those glass walls we've been looking through and walking into. The follow-up gag with the round door opener is almost worth the price of the DVD. As the modern restaurant gradually disintegrates around us, Tati finally begins to ease up on personal viewpoints and let's us simply enjoy the sight of people becoming more like people. And that, I suspect, is the point Tati wanted to make. In an odd sort of way, the last ten minutes evoke the humor and warmth of previous Tati movies...a packed traffic circle with all the cars moving slowly together; a father taking a toy horn from his little boy and blowing it, too; the bittersweet last look at Hulot walking past a bus where a young woman he met at the nightclub is being taken to the airport with her tourist group.

If you like Tati's viewpoint on the impersonalization of modern society, you'll probably like Playtime. Some critics call it his masterpiece. If you like Tati, I think Playtime is essential, if only to understand what happened to him. The movie is an idiosyncratic and gallant failure, in my view, and much too long. Still, I'd rather watch Playtime than most of what passes as genius in films today.

For the Tati enthusiast only
A sophisticated and understated film. There are a few sublime moments, built from virtually nothing. The man on a bus with a standard lamp which is mistaken for a handrail. The blurb says that it is better than Traffic, it isnt as funny though. You might be disappointed by the infrequency of Tati's appearances.

The film makes the most of those odd noises which you first heard with the swinging doors in M. Hulot's Holiday. As with Mon Oncle, Tati ridicules modern (1960s) architecture. His portrail of motor transport might strike a chord with the green lobby.

The technical quality of the film image is poor.

I wish I could get a copy of Traffic.

PLAYTIME in a barely recognisable, modernist Paris
Misunderstood and occasionally unappreciated ever since its initial 1967 release, Tati's visionary masterpiece is now an undisputed classic. The hallucinatory, hypnotically strange modernist vision of a barely recognisable Paris is quite simply amazing. Hugely influential for its use of space, architecture and Tati's amazing ability to mine subtle observational humour out of literally 'nothing much going on', this visually beautiful film is a must for all film fans. It is also an object lesson to all aspiring filmmakers and critics alike on the use of sound in the cinema.

Tati show us how most definitely less is more, in visual and aural terms. He makes every single second of screen time count. This is incredibly difficult to achieve, yet Tati manages it all with effortless grace and dexterity, all the while charming and amusing us with the immortal Mr. Hulot's hilarious physical comedy. The French Buster Keaton? Why not; they both share an innate genius for visual and physical comedy, and the intuitive appreciation of cinematic space, which few directors, living or dead, ever fully understand. Whenever I see this movie I am reminded of Time Out's famous review of Leone's Once Upon A Time In The West (1968), which (I admit I am paraphrasing here) goes something like "The only critical tools you need are your eyes and ears: this is cinema!" How true and so apt of Playtime.

Tati's alter ego, the ever polite, angular Monsieur Hulot, is let loose on a Paris dominated by modern offices, pristine glass surfaces and scurrying, over-officious French nine-to-fivers. Whether filming the shimmering space of an airport lounge and check-in area in a hilariously evolving sequence shot in one long take, or bumbling in and out of a new office building's reception area, where the automatic doors emit one of the funniest sound FX in cinema, Tati's distanced, observational humour of life in all its idiosyncratic charm is constantly surprising and always very, very funny.

Although the film's use of the wide screen and frame works so well up on the big screen, it will paradoxically work equally well on DVD. Here the 'audience' i.e. me, you, the dog, and the sofa, will just as readily appreciate the details and hilarious little asides Tati inserts in almost every shot and frame, which are easily missed at a single viewing.This movie rewards multiple viewings and DVD is undoubtedly the vehicle for that. In fact, I would go as far as to say that the Big Guy of Cinema must have had DVD in mind when he thought of PLAYTIME, as this is one of those classics which you will want to see again and again, and not get bored doing so.

Before I wax over lyrical about Tati and PLAYTIME, one last paragraph on the film's famous closing 35 minutes or so. Watch it as it unfolds, simply, beautifully and in one long sequence, and ask yourself this question: is there a funnier, more charming or beautifully observed and directed closing sequence on film? I hope your answer will be a resounding 'NO!'...