Le dernier métro

The show must go on, even under occupation, to entertain subdued, and sober populations, while all the world's a stage, all around a war is waged, there's a place to find a soupçon of distraction. Behind the scenes, so many subplots are relayed, the lives of people and their characters portrayed, how their worlds are interwoven, with the threads that they've all chosen, of their conduct, how they operate, behave.

It's an extremely engaging story of survival and opportunity that's centred around a theatre in Paris during WWII. Focusing primarily on Marion Steiner, the owner of the establishment who also acts on stage, performed as elegantly as ever by Catherine Deneuve, we observe her interactions with the players and the crew as she conceals her Jewish husband, and notable director, in the bowels of the playhouse bellow. Unlike many films from the time, and on similar subjects, it still holds up to scrutiny today, and it's well worth finding the best seat in your place of residence for a matinee viewing or screening, if the possibility arises.

This is a very well made movie. In particular, acting, writing and direction are superb and it just goes to show you that you don't need car chases and explosions to make a good film.

The movie is set in a theater in occupied France. The main concern through most of the movie is that they will come to take the Jewish husband of Catherine Deneuve who is hiding in the basement.

Gerard Depardieu provides excellent support as well and his decision at the end of the movie caught me a little off guard.

So, for those NOT familiar with the work of Truffault, it is an easy to watch starter--easier to take than some of his earlier work for the uninitiated.

Francois Truffaut follows in the tradition of Jean-Pierre Melville by adapting a popular genre as a serious allegory for the darkest period in French history: the Nazi Occupation. Just as Melville used the gangster film to examine notions of legality, legitimacy, authority and criminality in a period when the Resistance were outlaws and the police rounding up Jews for the death camps, so Truffaut takes the beloved putting-on-a-show warhorse, and uses it as a metaphor for the conditions of life in Occupied France: the need to act, adapt and continually discard roles. When Depardieu's character leaves to fight for the Resistance, he puns about exchanging his make-up (maquillage) for the maquis.

What Truffaut is most interested in, as in all his films, is the effect this need for constant dissembling has on individual identity and relationships. This wonderful romantic comedy plays like a mature update of 'Casablanca', richly stylised, bravely open-ended, with Truffaut's moving camera wrenching spirit from the claustrophobic confines.

The Last Metro (1980)

You can see this as a romance, a complicated one filled with restraint and false moves. You can see this as a war movie about resistance and suffering and subterfuge. Or you might see it as a slice of life--never mind the great plot elements--and get a feel for wartime Paris, its oppression under the Nazis and the inability to quite know what to do to survive.

This is layered with a play within a play in a couple ways, and if there is a weakness to the movie it's this inner play. Maybe it's meant to be a bit boring (as the Nazi-sympathizing critic says it is), but it takes up enough of the movie it drags the reality outside of the play down a bit.

Maybe the movie is about accommodation, about bending your highest principles to survive. Or maybe it's about how the smallest of romantic urges are okay to follow through on. Sometimes. Because in the end there is mostly a feeling of having survived. It isn't triumphant, quite, but relieved.

Francois Truffaut is of course not just a famous director but a lionized one, seeming to get credit for lifting cinema into something artistic and valuable, both. All of that is here. The best of this--like feeling leading actress Catherine Deneuve walking the tightrope through people she could not totally trust--is amazing. The filming is subtle and gorgeous, a warm and humanized camera in the hands of Nestor Almendros (famous in the U.S. for "Days of Heaven"). The writing is natural and spare, except for those parts in the interior plays. It is, at its best, a moving beautiful movie.

The structure has an odd breakdown at the end--intentional, with voice-over, but odd nonetheless. It's disruptive not only in time, as intended, but in tone. It forces the viewer to remember this is a fictional invention, an artifice with a cinematic point. And so it is. We see the end with detachment and it's not as rewarding as before.

There's no reason not to see this film. It's different enough to be engaging and yet familiar enough to not be offputting (as some earlier French New Wave directors seem to want). Memorable, at least for a while.

While it's always lovely to see Catherine Deneuve on the big screen, and always nice to hear the lyrical beauty of French in a film, a lazy Sunday afternoon might not have been the best time to have to focus on subtitles. The movie, though heartfelt and lovingly rendered, slowly meandered and wondered in the typical French way of searching for a higher truth about humanity, all of which made for a more sedate movie-going experience than we had hoped.