hulot hip

Monsieur Hulot is not a cool dude. He shows up at a small beach town for vacation and immediately begins disrupting the scene—making noise, knocking things over, leaving doors open. Tati sits back and let's the hilarity unfold: He employs his usual sight gags (cutting of roast in proportion to the size of guests, a mischevious young boy and his magnifying glass) while taking shots at the various stereotypes that seek out leisure on places like the Cote d'Azur and Biarritz.

Hulot is, however, a sweet and innocent little black-and-white film. It's broken up into vignettes and quick scenes of folly. The film was made between Holiday and My Uncle, the latter being a perfection of the trial-and-error in this film. There are some great sequences, including a very funny finale involving firecrackers and stunt/sketch comedy. The film never drags and Tati impresesively ups the ante just when you think you're about to get tired of Hulot and his exploits.

The screening was well-attended—about one-third full—including one child completely overtaken by laughter, which was contagious. A great way to begin a Sunday.

On a side note, I went to a wedding reception at the Crocker last night, thus missed the Chereau, of which I heard mixed response. The midnight show, I'm told, was sparsely attended, but the early breakfast afterward included some heated discussion about the film. I'm going back at 5 pm to check out the Techine film. Then that's it till Saturday, weekend two, which I'm a lot more excited about.

I dropped laundry in the machine before Hulot picked it up after. I've got to make some hummous and do some work but I'll be back for Les Temps qui changent and the short films this evening.