PlayTime
Sight and Sound’s Greatest Films of All Time watch challenge #242 - (film 23 out of 264)
No doubt his most ambitious film, Jacques Tati brings back his iconic M. Hulot character. Hulot, played by the director himself, bumbles about a sprawling city metropolis, bustling and full of life. As he does so, he comes across several other characters, travelers to and citizens of this highly modern and contemporary version of Paris, all of whom are lively characters in their own right, much like Hulot himself. From the first few moments of film, Tati establishes the idea that everything is for fun, to be a joke or source of amusement. Two nuns walk by, the folds of their cornettes flapping as they walk, making them look like birds as they walk through an airport. Similarly, a janitor walks through the same airport, looking for something to clean, but the pristine halls are spotless, leaving him standing aimlessly with nothing to do. Far in the background are several glass displays, seemingly holding mannequins in them, until one of them starts to move. Clearly a woman is standing in there. There’s an artificiality to everything here. Most characters move in straight lines, rarely ever walking in a curve. They walk and then stop and then turn and then walk again, but they never walk in an arc.
This artifice is not only the root of Tati’s comedy for the film. This artifice is his commentary on rapid modernization. The ambitious “Tativille”, as it was called, built specifically for this film, is made of tall, grey buildings with large glass sides. The uniformity of it all is impractical and only adds to the confusion of a crowded life. Echoes make people seem like they’re closer than they are, products and models are indistinguishable from the real thing when occupying the same space, and the lack of privacy leads to voyeuristic misinterpretation for comedic effect for the audience. The relation of these objects, the buildings, to the people is to reduce the person to the same as an automaton. Attempts to control chaos end up failing, creating a new order in of itself, as evidenced during the Royal Garden scene that takes up most of the later half of the film. The working service class is meant to keep up an illusion of competency for richer visitors and tourists, carefully curating who comes in and who leaves, but that falls apart just as quickly as the set does, with new boundaries being drawn.
Every inch of frame is always occupied. There is always multiple jokes happening at once. The parody of life present in PlayTime lends itself to the reality of a chaotic life only bolstered and exacerbated by modern advancements. PlayTime accepts these as facts of life in a rapidly advancing world but also notes the contradictions of these advancements. A travel agency displays posters of other locales that they offer services to and from, but the posters each display the same grey buildings obscuring otherwise iconic landmarks from the destinations they portray. Standard models of cars and repeating modes of fashion reduce and obscure peoples’ own individuality. However, as much fun as Tati pokes at these, he finds joy in how people, despite differences, can be the same. The traffic sequence towards the end is such a wonderful example of this. Everything is modern, everyone is moving together, but it is treated like a toy. The modern is a spectacle akin to a theme park attraction that we are all riding.