PLAYTIME - DVD review

In the short film "Cours du Soir" (1967), Jacques Tati plays a mime instructor who emphasizes to his students the importance of observing people closely. "Playtime" (1967) is the advanced version of this course put into action. Tati scrutinizes every member of his sprawling cast with an eye for detail that only years of trained observation can produce. The looks, movements and mannerisms of every single person who passes in front of his camera are recorded in vivid detail, and then coordinated into a precise, almost mathematical pattern that resembles dance as much as it does a narrative film.

In the hands of a less humanistic director, such an approach might produce a cold or clinical movie, but Tati likes, or at least is interested in, every character (and actor) who appears in his film. An obnoxious businessman could easily be played as the stereotypical "ugly American," but under Tati's guidance, his ostentatiousness plays more like bonhomie. When he flings around his money, even offering to buy the nightclub he is in, it's because he wants to have a good time and wants other people to enjoy it along with him. Tati finds the good in all of his characters. There is not a hint of smugness or condescension to be found in this movie, only the kind of playfulness that the title promises.

"Playtime" was Tati's greatest project or, depending upon your perspective, his greatest folly. He spent more than three years in production, building an entire city as his set (built in Joinville, it soon became known as Tati-ville) and investing much of his personal fortune in the project. Following the critical and popular success of his two previous Mr. Hulot films, "Mr. Hulot's Holiday" (1953) and "Mon oncle" (1958), a third Hulot film seemed like a sure bet. Unfortunately, the only thing certain in the film business is that nobody knows what will happen next. "Playtime" was a financial disaster, due in part to the interference of American distributors and for other reasons less clear. Perhaps the relatively subdued presence of the character of Hulot in the film, who takes a backseat to the ensemble cast, contributed to the failure. Perhaps it was just a case of bad timing. Whatever the reasons, Tati wound up losing his family home and, ultimately, even the rights to his own films.

The box office failure certainly has nothing to do with the quality of the film itself. As an audiovisual spectacle, "Playtime" is rivaled only by "2001: A Space Odyssey" (I have always thought of the two films together, and was pleasantly surprised when critic Jonathan Rosenbaum made the same comparison in the liner notes to this DVD.) I first saw "Playtime" on a restored 70mm print, and I count it as the single most memorable movie-going experience of my life. The sheer amount of activity in every frame of this film is so overwhelming that no single viewing can possibly suffice to absorb it all. Action occurs on multiple planes and in multiple directions, and Tati's long takes and wide shots allow them to unfold in real time, inviting the viewer to choose what he or she wants to watch.

Take the extraordinary scene in which Tati shows the living rooms of four separate apartments (effectively creating a four-way split-screen), all filmed from the outside. Most viewers will focus on the room which Hulot enters with his old war friend, but watch closely again and you'll notice how the body language of the woman who lives next door is oddly coordinated with the "main" action. Or how about the opening scene at Orly airport which first focuses on a seated couple conversing in mid-ground, but soon expands to follow a parade of different passersby: a confused janitor, a stewardess who walks with robotic precision and turns at sharp ninety degree angles, and so on. Pick a character, any character, and follow him or her; you won't be making the wrong choice; they're all important. It was all part of Tati's plan to "democratize" his film, taking the focus away from any single character and giving everyone their own degree of significance in the film. He particularly wanted to take the focus off his signature character, Monsieur Hulot, and let some of his other actors shine. He even sprinkles a series of fake Hulots throughout the film to further undermine his character's central role.

As you might guess, the gossamer plot hardly matters. Hulot comes to see a man about a job but has difficulty meeting with him. He wanders into the city where the action switches to follow a group of American women, including Barbara (Barbara Dennek) the closest thing the film has to a protagonist outside of Hulot, have arrived on vacation. Sometimes we follow the women; sometimes Hulot on his misadventures. Most of the time, we're watching the city itself, presented here as a sleek, ultra-modern, condensed version of Paris. It's a city made all of transparent glass, and operated by strange machinery that is both of its time and oddly futuristic. An early scene takes place at a trade show where vendors display their wares, including a vacuum cleaner with its own headlights and a door made of material that dampens all sound ("Slam Your Doors in Golden Silence!") Occasionally, Paris landmarks peek through the slick modernity, such as the Eiffel Tower which makes an unlikely appearance as a reflection in a glass doorway.

The entire film is a near-flawless symphony, but it reaches its pinnacle in the extended Royal Garden sequence at the end. If you can call a forty-minute plus sequence a "set-piece," it is the greatest set-piece in film history. It's opening night at a ritzy nightclub, but the kinks have yet to be ironed out, and the staff is ill-prepared to handle the crowd. Bad paint jobs, loose floor tiles, and collapsing support beams produce an endless series of complications. In this single space, Tati is somehow able to create dozens of distinct and memorable characters, including the waiters, the manager, the bouncer, the carpenter, the band members, several diners, a local drunk, and Hulot himself.

Typical of the film, Hulot drifts in and out of focus throughout this extended sequence, sometimes the center of the action, sometimes on the periphery, and sometimes disappearing altogether. With the importance of the score in this portion of the film, the Royal Garden sequence can easily be conceived of as a musical number. With the intensity it maintains from start to finish, peaking ever higher each time it seems to have climaxed, it most closely resembles Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" except maintained over the length of an entire concept album, even though it seems such a thing should be impossible according to the laws of classical physics.

As great as the first two Hulot films were, "Playtime" exceeds them in every way. As cheerful and light-hearted as the film is, "Playtime" is one of the most audacious movies ever made, creating a film-world and a film-language entirely of its own (again, a comparison with "2001" seems appropriate.) And though the movie is so meticulously crafted and so unique to Tati's vision it can rightly be described as "hermetic," it is still readily accessible by any viewer. Once more living up to its title, "Playtime" is just plain fun.

Tati is one of only a handful of film-makers who mastered nearly every aspect of the medium (image, sound, music, narrative, etc.), and found a way to make them work in perfect harmony. "Playtime" is his greatest creation, and belongs on the very short list of candidates for the title of "Greatest Film Ever Made."

Video

The film is presented in a 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The newly restored digital transfer is superb and, unlike the first Criterion edition, the picture is not cropped, nor is this transfer picture boxed (those little black bars on the left and right sides) like many recent Criterion widescreens. The colors are perfectly timed, and the image quality is razor sharp. I don't have a single complaint.

Audio

The DVD is presented in Dolby Digital Stereo. The film can be watched either in its French soundtrack or the International (English) Soundtrack, both of which were designed by Tati. Optional English subtitles support the audio on both soundtrack versions.

Extras

Disc One includes a video introduction by Terry Jones (6 min.) as well as selected scene commentary (for about one-third of the film) by film historian Philip Kemp.

The film is also offered in its French soundtrack, and its alternate international soundtrack. The latter is not merely an addition for the DVD, but was designed by Tati.

The version of the film included here is the full 70 mm version, not the slightly truncated international version (this one is about five minutes longer) included on the first Criterion release of "Playtime."

Disc Two includes a host of extras, including the short film "Cours du Soir" which was also available on the first Criterion release. This 1967 short (28 min.) is directed by Nicolas Ribowski and stars Tati as a mime instructor who teaches his class how best to observe people engaged in various activities: smoking, fishing, walking, etc. This isn't Tati's best work, but it's still quite funny.

New to this release are several features:

"Au-delá de ‘Playtime'" is a short documentary (6 min.) which includes some very exciting behind-the-scenes footage on the set of "Playtime."

"Tati Story" (20 min.) is a biographical film about Tati which tells all the basics. The best part of this short is footage of Tati speaking at the 1977 Cesar Awards.

"Jacques Tati in Monsieur Hulot's Work" (49 min.) is probably the best feature on the DVD. This 1976 BBC Omnibus program takes place at the Hotel de la Plage (where "Monsieur Hulot's Holiday" was filmed), and mixes footage from Tati's films with an interview conducted by Gavin Millar. Some fantastic stuff here.

A video interview with script supervisor (they used to call them "script-girls") Sylvette Baudrot (12 min.) provides a few interesting anecdotes.

"Tati at the San Francisco Film Festival" rounds out the collection. This consists of audio excerpts of Tati speaking at the 1972 SF Festival where "Playtime" had its long-delayed American debut. The excerpts are from a panel discussion moderated by Albert Johnson.

The liner notes include a very personal and enlightening essay by Jonathan Rosenbaum, who has elsewhere named "Playtime" his favorite film of all-time.

Film Value

Criterion's first release of "Playtime" was considered a disappointment by most Tati fans, but this re-release corrects every previous flaw. With its gorgeous new transfer, superior soundtrack, and superb collection of extra features, this new edition is not only the definitive DVD version of "Playtime" but also the best and most important Criterion release of 2006.

As great as this DVD is, however, there is no way to reproduce the experience of seeing "Playtime" on a 70mm print. If you ever get the opportunity to see it on 70mm, move heaven and earth to get yourself to the theater. There is simply no substitute.