Film Review
After the staggering success of his first film,
Les 400 coups (1959),
director François Truffaut tackled its follow-up with a mix of
trepidation and creative release. Partly to indulge his passion
for American crime novels, but also to counter criticism that his
cinema was parochial and opportunistic, Truffaut decided that his
second film should have an American rather than a French feel.
He had recently read David Goodis's novel
Down There (released in France
under the title
Tirez sur le pianiste)
and was so enthused that he persuaded producer Pierre Braunberger to
buy the rights so that he could adapt it. What Truffaut delivered
was a superlative pastiche of the American film noir gangster film,
with all the familiar noir motifs (including the extended flashback and
the internal monologue), seasoned with a hint of tongue-in-cheek parody
and one or two musical digressions. Although it was not a
commercial success on its first release (it performed far better in the
United States than in France),
Tirez
sur le pianiste is now considered one of Truffaut's most
important films. It is certainly his most experimental and
original work, the one film in his oeuvre that truly lives up to the
revolutionary reputation of the French New Wave.
You have to watch
Les 400 coups
and
Tirez sur le pianiste
back-to-back to see just how much more sophisticated and visually
exciting the latter film is. Engaging as it is, Truffaut's first
film feels more like
ancien
régime than
nouvelle
vague, so closely does it adhere to the old filmmaking
conventions of the 1950s. By contrast, his second offers true
cinematic innovation - an intoxicating mélange of genres that
employs a diverse range of lighting and camera techniques to match the
constantly changing mood and pace of the film. In the thriller
sequences, the film pays homage to classic American film noir with deep
focus photography and expressionistic lighting; shallow focus is used
in the more reflective, romantic scenes, to suggest disconnection
between the protagonists and the world around them; a more naturalistic
approach is used for the banal scenes of everyday experience; and, for the
dramatic denouement, the cinematography acquires an unreal,
fairytale-like quality, a Cocteau-esque lyricism which beautifully
counterpoints the menace of the gangster shootout. These
stylistic shifts are so subtly rendered, so carefully aligned with the
narrative, that you hardly notice them when watching the film for the
first time. It is fair to say that cinematographer Raoul Coutard
brings as much to the film as its director. It was Coutard's
groundbreaking work on Jean-Luc Godard's
À
bout de souffle (1960) which led Truffaut to hire him for
Tirez sur le pianiste. A
natural-born rebel with a genius for innovation and a frequent
collaborator of Godard and Truffaut, Coutard was one of the great
creative forces behind the French New Wave, although his contribution is
often overlooked. Would we still be singing the praises
of
Jules et Jim, Lola,
Le Mépris and
Pierrot le fou if Raoul Coutard had
not been there guiding the photography? The same can also be said
of Georges Delerue, the composer who brought a sharper poetic resonance
and emotional truth to the films of la Nouvelle Vague; his work on
Tirez sur le pianiste is one of his
best compositions.
Headlining a distinguished cast is France's answer to Frank Sinatra,
Charles Aznavour. It was on seeing Aznavour in George
Franju's
La Tête contre les murs (1959)
that Truffaut saw his potential as an actor and offered him the lead in
his second film, the part of the titular piano player. Truffaut's
main motivation for choosing the Armenian born actor was because he
wanted the main character to look completely un-French, to emphasise
the ambiguity of the film's location. The other reason why
Aznavour was a perfect casting choice is his talent
for conveying his inner feelings without surface emotionalism.
The outward timidity and fragility of his portrayal belies the
resilience and courage that lies within. Such is the authenticity
that Aznavour brings to his performances that we
completely forget he is also a
superstar singer - we see only the character he is playing on the screen.
For the part of Aznavour's ill-fated girlfriend Lena, Truffaut cast the
completely unknown Claudine Huzé and gave her the name by which
she is now better known, Marie Dubois. Again, this was an
inspired piece of casting, for not only is Dubois a charismatic,
photogenic young actress (of the kind for which Truffaut had a
particular weakness), but she also matches Aznavour's skill for playing
strong, believable characters with an aura of tragic
vulnerability. The impressive supporting cast includes some
notable names - Albert Rémy, who had played Antoine Doinel's
father in
Les 400 coups,
Nicole Berger, the star of Claude Autant-Lara's
Le Blé en herbe (1954) (who
died tragically young in a road accident a few years later) and
Michèle Mercier, who would later find enduring fame through the
Angélique films of the
late 1960s. It was Truffaut's refusal to excise a shot in which
Mercier flashes her substantial breasts that caused difficulties with
the censor and earned the film its 18 certification in France.
(The director did however remove a shot in which the gangsters ran over
a small cat.)
Tirez sur le pianiste is often
considered one of Truffaut's least typical films, yet it is undoubtedly
among his finest, if only for the audacity with which it fractures the
cinematic conventions of the time. The film differs from the
director's subsequent noir-like thrillers -
La Mariée était en noir
(1967) and
Vivement dimanche! (1983) - by
virtue of the fact that the parodic vein is much more subtle and the
characters more convincingly drawn. With its allusions to
amour fou, the film has more in
common with Truffaut's tragic romances,
Jules
et Jim (1962) and
La
Peau douce (1964), without the melodramatic excesses of
these films. It is here that we encounter Truffaut's best gag - a
gangster's mother dropping dead when he swears on her life - and also
his most visually inspired denouement. But what most sets
Tirez sur le pianiste apart and
makes it one of the great films of the French New Wave is that it
constantly takes us by surprise. If only audiences and critics
had responded more favourably to the film when it first came out,
Truffaut may have been encouraged to take far greater risks in his
subsequent career, instead of gravitating to the kind of crowd-pleasing
conformity that he railed against when he was a firebrand
critic.
© James Travers 2011
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Next François Truffaut film:
Tire-au-flanc 62 (1961)
Film Synopsis
It wasn't so long ago that Charlie Kohler was considered one of the great
virtuoso pianists of his time. Of course, he went by a different name
in those days - Édouard Saroyan - and he had a wife Thérésa
who meant everything to him. It was his wife's revelation that she
had been having an affair with his impresario, and then her subsequent suicide,
which ended his glittering concert career. Now Charlie is happy to
be a two-bit pianist in a grubby little dance bar, knocking out dreary melodies
for crowds who have not the slightest inkling of his real talent. Charlie
has one desire - to put his past behind him. In this he is being helped
by his present mistress Lena, a pretty young barmaid who will do anything
for him.
Charlie has just about managed to get his life back on track when his brother
Chico bursts in on him, looking for a safe place to hide from a pair of merciless
gun-toting hoodlums, Ernest and Momo. No sooner has this matter been
resolved than Charlie learns that his present employer, Plyne, has betrayed
him to the gangsters. The two men then get into a violent fight, which
ends with the pianist unintentionally stabbing the bar owner to death.
Charlie's problems are then further aggravated when his younger brother Fido
is abducted by Ernest and Momo.
The unfortunate pianist now realises that he has no choice but to join his
other brothers and take their side in a private war against the merciless
hoodlums who are determined to wipe them out. Léna dutifully
accompanies Charlie and his brothers as they flee to an alpine retreat, which
is destined to become the setting for the bloodiest of shootouts. Before
the day is over, Charlie Kohler will be struck by yet another personal tragedy.
Disaster seems to follow him wherever he goes...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.