The least human of the M. Hulot series, this film achieves what was probably the goal of Tati in the first place. He mixes sophisticated caricatures with the most insane world he ever created, all with iconic sets, full size to allow Tati to choreograph the camera effortlessly, without going into the close-up shots that he detested so.
"All these electrical thingamajigs!" one man gives out to himself early on in the film, epitomizing the subject of the M. Hulot films. In that scene, a machine with thousands of buttons gives extra terrestrial beeps, buzzes, and flashes of little colored lights, just to call someone in another room. The film proceeds, with dazzling sets, a perfect array of shots, and gags that aren't gags, so much as visual puns.
Mon Oncle may be funnier, M. Hulot's Holiday may be better, and Traffic may be more touching, but this has the feel that Jacques Tati had been wanting to make it ever since he started with films.
"All these electrical thingamajigs!" one man gives out to himself early on in the film, epitomizing the subject of the M. Hulot films. In that scene, a machine with thousands of buttons gives extra terrestrial beeps, buzzes, and flashes of little colored lights, just to call someone in another room. The film proceeds, with dazzling sets, a perfect array of shots, and gags that aren't gags, so much as visual puns.
Mon Oncle may be funnier, M. Hulot's Holiday may be better, and Traffic may be more touching, but this has the feel that Jacques Tati had been wanting to make it ever since he started with films.