This review originally appeared on the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation’s “Roll Film” movie review site (http://www.biketraffic.org/content.php?id=219_0_6_0). Each film was also reviewed by my CBF colleague, Greg Borzo, who focused more on the bike content.
JOUR DE FETE
2 1/2 Wheels
One can look at Jour de fête in one of two ways. In the context of film history, it’s an important moment in the evolution of comedy, as it marked the debut of France’s most acclaimed comedic innovator, Jacques Tati. Judged on its own merits, it’s leisurely, pleasant and droll, eliciting the occasional smile, but never a full belly laugh.
Tati plays the high strung mailman, Francois, who delivers the mail by bike in a small French village that would have been considered old-fashioned even at the time of its 1947 release. Francois has a dream – to deliver the mail like the Americans do – by helicopter. This, and all the other tidbits he’s picked up about life in the far away United States, he’s learned from the movies. His jealousy and begrudging admiration for the American way lead to both slapstick efforts at modernization and anti-American tirades that surprisingly evoke a G-rated Borat.
Here, art and reality intersect because Tati, like his character, also covets American progress, but in the area of filmmaking itself. While France had produced excellent dramas like The Rules of the Game and Children of Paradise, French audiences looking for great comedy had to look towards the States. Tati’s vision was to take the American silent physical comedy and update it for the sound era.
He would achieve critical acclaim in the ’50s when he developed and portrayed the character of Mr. Hulot, the mumbling innocent who would constantly do battle with everyday objects. In each subsequent Hulot film, these battles would become more elaborate as he questioned what kind of progress modernization truly achieved.
Hulot was a direct inspiration to England’s Rowan Atkinson, whose Mr. Bean character brought Tati’s brand of comedy into the ’90s. His other clear disciple is Jerry Lewis, who also favored involved physical gags based on the inability to use everyday objects. Lewis lacked Tati’s subtler qualities, but one thought I had after viewing Jour de fête was that I now understand why the French so admire Jerry Lewis.
Tati also had technical innovations in mind, which were probably pretty neat in 1947 and are considerably less so today. Jour de fête is a black-and-white film that occasionally and strategically introduces color to the frame. The colors tend to be blue and red, which is usually applied to the French flag as well as other areas of the screen Tati wishes to call attention to.
Sound is also handled in an unusual way. The dialogue is muted (and was added after filming without much attention to dubbing) and sound effects are brought forward on the soundtrack. The purpose is to allow the sound to enhance the physical comedy.
What would have enhanced the physical comedy more would have been more of it. While its relaxed look at the quaint village is, well, relaxing, it’s only at the end, when Francois makes it his mission to single-handedly modernize the French postal service (all on his bicycle by the way) that Jour de fête starts to build some energy. Ten minutes later, its over, and its place in film history secured despite not being all that funny.
JOUR DE FETE
2 1/2 Wheels
One can look at Jour de fête in one of two ways. In the context of film history, it’s an important moment in the evolution of comedy, as it marked the debut of France’s most acclaimed comedic innovator, Jacques Tati. Judged on its own merits, it’s leisurely, pleasant and droll, eliciting the occasional smile, but never a full belly laugh.
Tati plays the high strung mailman, Francois, who delivers the mail by bike in a small French village that would have been considered old-fashioned even at the time of its 1947 release. Francois has a dream – to deliver the mail like the Americans do – by helicopter. This, and all the other tidbits he’s picked up about life in the far away United States, he’s learned from the movies. His jealousy and begrudging admiration for the American way lead to both slapstick efforts at modernization and anti-American tirades that surprisingly evoke a G-rated Borat.
Here, art and reality intersect because Tati, like his character, also covets American progress, but in the area of filmmaking itself. While France had produced excellent dramas like The Rules of the Game and Children of Paradise, French audiences looking for great comedy had to look towards the States. Tati’s vision was to take the American silent physical comedy and update it for the sound era.
He would achieve critical acclaim in the ’50s when he developed and portrayed the character of Mr. Hulot, the mumbling innocent who would constantly do battle with everyday objects. In each subsequent Hulot film, these battles would become more elaborate as he questioned what kind of progress modernization truly achieved.
Hulot was a direct inspiration to England’s Rowan Atkinson, whose Mr. Bean character brought Tati’s brand of comedy into the ’90s. His other clear disciple is Jerry Lewis, who also favored involved physical gags based on the inability to use everyday objects. Lewis lacked Tati’s subtler qualities, but one thought I had after viewing Jour de fête was that I now understand why the French so admire Jerry Lewis.
Tati also had technical innovations in mind, which were probably pretty neat in 1947 and are considerably less so today. Jour de fête is a black-and-white film that occasionally and strategically introduces color to the frame. The colors tend to be blue and red, which is usually applied to the French flag as well as other areas of the screen Tati wishes to call attention to.
Sound is also handled in an unusual way. The dialogue is muted (and was added after filming without much attention to dubbing) and sound effects are brought forward on the soundtrack. The purpose is to allow the sound to enhance the physical comedy.
What would have enhanced the physical comedy more would have been more of it. While its relaxed look at the quaint village is, well, relaxing, it’s only at the end, when Francois makes it his mission to single-handedly modernize the French postal service (all on his bicycle by the way) that Jour de fête starts to build some energy. Ten minutes later, its over, and its place in film history secured despite not being all that funny.
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