Film Review
Five years after
Les Vacances de Monsier Hulot proved a major critical success,
Jacques Tati and Monsieur Hulot returned to cinema screens across the world in
Mon
Oncle, a film which proved to be one of the cinematic highlights of 1958. As
with Tati's previous film,
Mon Oncle delighted the critics and was a commercial
success. The film won not just the Special Jury Prize at Cannes but also an Oscar
(in the best foreign film category).
In a similar vein to René Clair's
À
nous la liberté and Chaplin's Modern Times,
Mon Oncle is primarily
a satire on the dehumanising effect of technology on society and family life. Monsieur
Hulot and the Arpel family represent two opposite extremes of the social spectrum - Hulot,
the unemployed working class man, symbolises the past, the Arpels, the epitome of nouveau-riche
bourgeoisie, representing the future. Yet it becomes clear that both are ill at
ease with the new technology which has entered their lives. Hulot manages to bring
a factory to a virtual standstill in a matter of minutes, whilst the Arpels easily get
themselves locked up in their own garage and have to rely on their maid to rescue them.
The moral is that technology has its place but there is a point at which such progress
becomes more of a burden than an benefit to mankind. Technology for its own sake
(such as the fully automated kitchen which resembles a dentist's surgery) is a sterile,
meaningless development, its main function being to allow you to impress your neighbours.
Of course, human nature being what it is, once the technological genie is out of the bottle
there is no going back.
Playtime
, Tati's next film, pursues some of these ideas further and paints a somewhat
more worrying vision of technological progress.
Mon Oncle features some of Tati's best visual jokes - such as the house-proud wife
constantly switching on and off her ornamental garden fountain whenever a guest arrives,
and the high jinks at the plastics factory, where Hulot manages to get a machine to produce
plastic pipes in the shape of strings of sausages. As in many of Tati's films,
contrasts are made between children (whom Tati most closely seems to identify with) an
adults (who are usually portrayed as idiots). The artificial pomposity of
the Arpels is ridiculed whereas the natural rebelliousness of the young boys is glorified.
This suggests a parable of innocence in which the children, who have yet to succumb to
the charms of technology are shown to be wiser than adults who, for reasons of greed or
vanity, have made technology their god. That Hulot seems to get on better with children
(and stray dogs) only serves to underline this simple message.
Not only is
Mon Oncle an a greatly entertaining piece of cinema, it is also frighteningly
prophetic. Forty years on, the charming world inhabited by Monsieur Hulot has all
but disappeared and, to a greater or lesser extent, we have all ended up slaves of technology,
much of which is of dubious benefit. To this audience, watching
Mon Oncle
can be a poignant experience. As we laugh at the exploits of Monsieur Hulot
and his inability to adapt to a changing world, we see something of ourselves and perhaps
nurture a secret yearning to return to a simpler, less technologically orientated way
of life.
© James Travers 2002
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Next Jacques Tati film:
Playtime (1967)
Film Synopsis
Monsieur Hulot rents a modest rooftop apartment in an old part of Paris, where traders
sell their goods in the streets and young boys play games on unsuspecting passers-by.
His upwardly mobile sister is married to Monsieur Arpel, who runs a successful plastics
factory. The Arpels live in an ultramodern house, of sleek minimalist design, equipped
with all the latest labour-saving gadgets. Having no job, Hulot occupies himself
by taking his nephew Gérard, the Arpel's son, to and from school. Concerned
about Hulot's influence over his son, Monsieur Arpel resolves to get him a job - even
resorting to finding him a place in his own factory. It is a mistake he soon lives
to regret...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.