Review of Monsieur Hulot's Holiday (1953) by Zac S — 24 Feb 2009

A masterpiece of small, quiet moments and the humor that can be found therein. to quote roger ebert's great movies entry: "The first time I saw Jacques Tati's ``Mr. Hulot's Holiday,'' I didn't laugh as much as I thought I was supposed to." Indeed, there isn't much humor in the first, say, half hour of the film as the scene is set and the players take their places; we slowly begin to get a feel for the mechanics of this beach side resort and the natures of some of its inhabitants, only a few of whom, outside of Mr. Hulot, are given names. We meet the put upon waiter, rambunctious children, the pretty and kind, though quiet martine, the busy Mr. Schmutz, constantly being telephoned from London, and many others.

The film begins to pick up steam as it progresses over the course of a few days, during which we follow Hulot and his fellow vacationers through the usual activities - boating, sunbathing, tennis, picnics. Hulot is not quite the manic troublemaker we might expect, but rather a kind though clumsy clown who makes his fellow characters smile as much as he consternates them. Sure, he annoys the lobby of the hotel as he plays his loud, raucous jazz and is constantly waking up his neighbors in the middle of the night with his antics, but later, when he accidentally sets off a shed full of fireworks in the night, notice how their annoyance has changed to glee as they rush downstairs, the same raucous jazz playing, and enjoy the show.

Over the course of the movie's casual, breezy running time we come to appreciate them and even feel a bit nostalgic as they gather their things to leave. When a few suggest that they will be back next year, and they hope Hulot will be as well, we hope along with them to come back and visit these people, who have become our friends, too. Indeed, this is the kind of movie that begs to be watched again: ah, there is martine as two gentleman make room for her on the train, and here comes Hulot in his little car...