Playtime

I must admit (to my shame again) that until I saw Playtime I did not quite get Jacques Tati. I desperately wanted to like Ms. Hulot’s Holiday. The idea of a whimsical character encountering mild misadventures on an old fashioned seaside holiday sounds like just the ticket for someone like me who loves PG Wodehouse and endlessly revisits Fawlty Towers. But I’m sorry to say that I found it just a tad too slow. I found myself unable to sustain interest in Ms. Hulot’s escapades over the length of the film. So I am very happy to report that as far as appreciating Tati is concerned Playtime has changed all that. I loved every moment. Playtime can be many things to different people. I imagine there are those who may view it as quite a biting satire on modern life, on the relentless pursuit of progress, blind to the beauty all around us. The occasional glimpses of well-loved Paris landmarks reflected in the chrome and glass of Tati’s modern city suggests this. I see it though as a far subtler and gentler commentary. It makes us look anew at the man-made world around us and consider how often our interactions with this world are amusing and even ridiculous. I cannot walk into the first class Qantas lounge at Sydney airport without thinking about Playtime. It is a space that could have been taken straight from the giant set that Tati created for this movie. As a result I find it hard to watch people in the lounge with a straight face. Playtime is a magical film, worth watching again and again. Sadly I understand that its lack of financial success bankrupted Tati, a great shame.