Les Quatre Cents Coups

The memorable story of young, troubled Antoine is worth seeing for a good number of reasons, probably most of all for the thoughtful direction by François Truffaut. It stands out from most other movies about troubled youths, both in the way that it portrays the main character and in making such good use of seemingly minor events in showing how they shape Antoine's life.

As Antoine, Jean-Pierre Léaud (in the role with which he would always be identified) strikes a nice balance in making his character come to life without making any of his actions seem forced or over-dramatic. Truffaut sets things up for him perfectly, by presenting a great variety of situations in his life that allow Antoine's character to come out naturally. Many of the settings are in themselves interesting and creative, despite being located in familiar types of places.

The story is written carefully so as to allow the viewer to identify with and sympathize with Antoine, while still seeing his faults clearly. What is often the most affecting thing about it is the way that Truffaut shows how even the most commonplace kinds of events can have such an effect on a maturing person, if they are a source of disappointed expectations or misunderstood intentions. To make this kind of movie so effectively without relying on violent or shocking material is an admirable achievement, and it repays careful thought and attention while watching it.

As the seminal work of the French New Wave, the 1959 directorial debut of 27-year old Francois Truffaut has such a vaunted reputation that the final film is bound to disappoint. However, the pristine print that comes with the new Criterion Collection DVD really makes me realize what a brave and emotionally resonant film he made ostensibly about his own troubled adolescence. It's worth seeing twice - once for the film itself and a second time to listen to the newly recorded commentary by Truffaut's childhood friend Robert Lachenay (the true-life inspiration for Rene in the film). Speaking in French but subtitled in English, he provides insights into the story and context of the film that no film scholar or even production associate could possibly provide. As a point of comparison, listen to the by-the-numbers commentary by film scholar Brian Stonehill (recorded back in 1992), which is thoughtful and well researched but devoid of the human factor.

The film's title comes from a French colloquialism that translates into "raising hell", an appropriate reference since the story focuses on a thirteen-year old hellion named Antoine, living in a poor section of Paris and neglected by parents downright arrogant in their dysfunctional nature. Antoine consequently lives a street urchin's life as he lies to people in authority - his parents, his teachers, and the police - since he admits rather sadly that the truth doesn't make any difference. Truffaut tracks Antoine's life through a series of dispiriting episodes that ultimately lead him to be sent away to a reformatory after he gets caught returning a stolen typewriter and his mother and stepfather tire of their responsibility over him. To Truffaut's immense credit, the film feels stark and naturalistic without resorting to dramatic manipulation, and he finds the ideal Antoine in Jean-Pierre Leaud, who brings out the confusion, angst and wandering attention of his character in realistic terms. He is especially impressive in an apparently improvised scene where he is interviewed by the school authorities about why his life has come to this. It is heartbreaking to see how bleak his life becomes, yet Leaud imbues the incorrigible, often intolerable side of Antoine with fervor.

There are several interesting extras included with the 2006 DVD package starting with two separate interviews with Truffaut, the first a year after the film's release discussing he film's impact and the second five years later when we see the filmmaker in a more reflective mood about his cinematic influences. Leaud is featured in 16mm screen test footage where his naturally ebullient personality emerges and then after the 1959 Cannes Film Festival where puberty has apparently kicked in and then in 1965 as a comparatively reserved twenty-year old. The screen test of Richard Kanayan (who has a minor role as a schoolmate) is amusing for his Satchmo-inspired rendition of "When the Saints Go Marching In" and his eerie resemblance to Fantasy Island's Tattoo, Herve Villechaize. Be forewarned that the film is relentlessly downbeat, but Truffaut's emotional investment and consummate abilities as a filmmaker, even at this stage of his career, make this essential viewing.

Truffaut has worked wonders here, creating a masterful tale of a boy confused, troubled, and unloved. Antoine Doinel (played superbly by Jean-Pierre Léaud in the lead role) has strict, unfaithful parents, and a harsh, oppressive teacher, and falls into delinquency because of his unhappiness. He lies, steals, skips school and runs away from home, and soon ends up in a juvenile delinquency centre.

Truffaut's inspiration for this film came from his own depressed childhood, so he bases Antoine on himself, including in terms of appearance. Being a 'New Wave' (a cinematographic movement of the sixties, involving directors who believed Hollywood films were too lavish and unreal) director, Truffaut always used a real location for the film, including breathtaking shots of Truffaut's native Paris. He also made a cameo in the film in the style of Hitchcock.

Delinquance is the key theme here. Antoine, who is a character who believes in liberty and freedom, and the way he is always locked up is repressive for him, and this provokes a constant need for him to be out.

Trying to make a realistic and moving film was Truffaut's aim, which, by watching this film, I realised that he had done amazingly well. Also, by combining humour and drama too, we have the defining French film of the 20th century. A black and white film that is full of colour. Bien sur, François Truffaut.

Every day life, however 'real' and gritty it may be, is rarely portrayed on film and was certainly a rarity in the 1950's. In Europe however, there was a movement in film-making that embraced this realism and searched for the deeper meaning in the 'here and now'. This is about the most basic and miniscule portion of the meaning behind the French New Wave of the 1950's – films that explored the filmmaker's surroundings, and eventually became an inspiration for filmmakers around the world. Francois Truffaut's 'The 400 Blows' is one of the most well-known films of this movement, and has been embraced and hailed as one of the greatest films of all time.

After viewing Truffaut's 'The 400 Blows', I have been ruminating over the deeper meaning behind his story of Antoine Doinel, a 14 year old boy in Paris who is having trouble in school and trouble at home. In school, he is marginalized as a trouble-maker, yet it is obvious that it is more a matter of him causing trouble by expressing himself creatively rather than following along with mundane assignments. At home, Doinel has to deal with an adulterous mother who only pays attention to him when it suits her needs, and a father who is barely present. Doinel responds by doing the only thing he feels he can do, and that is by acting up; eventually earning an expulsion from school and being sent to a juvenile prison camp by his parents.

Nothing is cut and dry in 'The 400 Blows'. If one were to take the film at face value, there would be a 'so what' feeling. What the film subtly explores is the disenfranchisement of youth. There is no joy in Doinel's life – anytime he tries to express himself creatively or acts up in a playful way he is shot down and metaphorically forced back into line. This is not a typical Paris street kid either, this is one who reads Balzac for pleasure and conveys intense emotion. The problem is that no one is there to notice or care. Another aspect of the French New Wave was that the films were not merely a product of a Hollywood factory; these were intensely personal films to the writers and directors. In the case of 'The 400 Blows', it is certain that Doinel is based on Truffaut, himself only 28 when he made the film. Truffaut's cinematography in 'The 400 Blows' is exquisite. We see a Paris that is not in Technicolor with colorful fountains like 'An American in Paris'. This is Paris from a Parisian's perspective – and the difference is breathtaking and intense. These are not Louis XVI style houses, they are tiny flats where people have to sleep in closets and walk up and down six flights of stairs. The city views are those of a native Parisian – the kind of tour one would get if they asked the average Parisian for non-tourist attractions.

There is still a lot that I have to learn and think about 'The 400 Blows' and French New Wave in general, but with the minute amount of understanding I have of it, I found it to be an intense film, one that left me emotional and craving enlightenment. Rarely is there a film that leaves that kind of impact on me, but Truffaut managed to leave me speechless and deep in thought with 'The Four Hundred Blows'.

--Shel

THE FOUR HUNDRED BLOWS (François Truffaut - France 1959).

Twelve-year-old Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Léaud) has troubles at home and at school. Ignored and neglected by his parents, his relationship with his mother is further strained when he discovers that she has taken a secret lover. Added to this, his school teachers have written him off as a trouble maker and, with luck seemingly never on his side, it is Antoine who ends up getting the blame for bad behaviour. Finding refuge only in his love of cinema, Antoine soon finds it necessary to break free and discover what the world can offer outside the confines of everyday life.

I have always struggled with the labeling of this film as one of the pivotal entrances in the "Nouvelle Vague". Since Jean-Luc Godard's "Au Bout de Soufflé", who uses a completely different approach to film-making, with his restless jump-cutting and endless references to pop culture, Truffaut presents his case clear cut, as realistic as possible. But this was something completely different from the way American films portrayed juvenile delinquency so far. No iconic trouble makers like James Dean or Marlon Brando, just a realistic portrait of a twelve-year old boy sliding into isolation. The very idea alone was something novel, seldom depicted in a way like this.

Much of the praise must go to Jean-Pierre Léaud, who never even seems to be acting. His every movement, thought, expression come across as completely natural. Truly, one of the most remarkable performances of such a young actor I've ever seen. Watching this over 40 years after it was made, it all looks deceptively simple, with Truffaut's perfect integration of music and image, location shooting on the streets of Paris and the naturalistic performances. Truffaut used many innovations but they are not easily noticeable as in Godard's work. This was for instance the first French film to be shot in widescreen (aspect ratio 2.35:1), which required much planning on Truffaut's part, with some surprising results. In many scenes we don't see the other person Antoine is talking to, which gives the viewer the illusion as if Antoine is almost talking directly to the camera. Jean-Pierre Léaud would continue his role as Antoine in four more films by Truffaut, "Love at Twenty" (1962), "Stolen Kisses" (1968), "Bed and Board" (1970) and "Love on the Run" (1979).

Camera Obscura --- 9/10