Customer Reviews

Jacques Tati: His Life and Art

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

David Bellos and Jacques Tati: What an odd combination. The odd thing about it is that David Bellos is a much-respected translator of French writer Georges Perec's novels, in addition to being Perec's biographer, and he's a much-admired expert on French literature. So why would he be interested in writing a biography of one of cinema's great clowns, Jacques Tati, especially when Bellos admits he is not a film fanatic and feels that if he had met Tati, he wouldn't have been able to spend more than five minutes in conversation with the man? Bellos cites his interest in Tati's artistry and his place in what the author calls "the trente glorieuses -- the 30 glorious years of rising prosperity in France from 1945 to 1975." These are the years during which Tati did his amazing work. He was not only one of the great filmmakers but also an artist who commented on humankind's interest and need for work and leisure -- with hilarious results. And his set designs have been a hit with architects around the world.

There is nothing more moderne than a Tati film. Tati made fun of the French love for le gadget: everything from Le Corbusier-style chaises longues to cars that had grills suitable for barbecuing. Jacques Tati is weak as a biography, insofar as Bellos doesn't get into Tati's head, but the book is strong when Bellos writes about Tati's films and his Kubrick-like madness in waiting for the perfect shot, perfect moment, perfect anything. Like Kubrick, Tati was an unforgiving perfectionist, and although he was a funnyman on film, Tati was quite moody and depressed during the shoots. His single-minded intensity in getting the film he wanted eventually destroyed him financially; for the masterpiece Playtime, Tati built a small modern city as a set, which caused his accountant to flip his lid. The film failed financially, and Tati never recovered from the disappointment.

As Bellos writes in his introduction to the book, he is hopeful that there will be other books on this peculiar film genius. This is only an introduction, and when one takes it as just that, this book is a must-read for Tati fans. Oh, and if you are not a Tati fan, I don't want to know you.

Bellos presents the itinerary of a life and something more of a career, but Jacques Tati remains largely a mystery. I'll reread this biography, ignoring the narrow, academic view of intellect and flawless, postwar judgments of wartime behavior, and I'll recommend it to others. But I'll continue to hope that someone will write a life of Tati filled with scenes as revealing and eloquent as Hulot's resetting of a brick in a crumbling Paris wall.

don't expect to read the normal gossip-laden biography. this is a most serious text detailing the comic genius and cinematic philosophy of the brilliant and (almost) tragic actor/director.

Far from producing a well-informed biography of France's greatest cinematic clown, Jacques Tati, instead Bellos ruthlessly dissects. Despite his clinical approach, there is just enough tantalising information about Tati, the brilliant creator of Monsieur Hulot, to hold my attention.

Do I really want to know about the various colour film processes available in France? Not really. Nor do I want to read yet again about the dire financial straits France found itself in after World War I, as well as what was going on in Europe during the years before and after World War II! Acres of text have already been written concerning these times and events.

When I purchase a book purportedly written about one of my all-time favourite comedic heroes, I fully expect to read about the man - nothing else. But instead it seems to me that Bellos has turned his book into an intellectual diatribe against Tati, coldly ripping his memory apart. In fact Bellos is more like a mortician, clinically wishing to expose the body lying on the slab before him by carving it up to look at its many parts, rather than appreciate the whole. He appears to think of Jacques Tati as nothing more than a mere coincidence in the scheme of things, when in fact the reverse is true.

Now if only someone would write a truly worthwhile biography of Jacques...

Well-researched and organized and gave me a lot of insight into the man behind the internationally famous M. Hulot. Interesting production information, but would have been happier with more production details and more detailed credits.

Jacques Tati is finally exposed for all to analyze. His singlemindedness, his need for total control... He was an auteur of the French cinema, in complete control of his films from script to production to direction, to starring. No studio edits, no rewrites, no director's cut. His was the only cut. This singlemindedness stands in complete contrast to his complete ignorance of comedy and film, an ignorance he maintained purposely all his life. He knew nothing of competitors like Chaplin, and insisted old gags in his films were original ideas of his own, to the point of being insulted at the suggestion he copied them. Now we know we can believe him. He kept reinventing the wheel, instead of leveraging off others' experience to take his own humor to new heights. The result was steady decline in the quality of his films, leading to bankruptcy and a pathetic ending to a lifetime of dedication to his craft, and the good fortune to be able to realize his goals. This is the story of the man behind the rumpled raincoat and the odd posture, and it is well worth understanding.