Playtime (1967)

Film as a medium is my favorite form of art and there is no greater work, in my opinion, than Jacques Tati’s 1967 film PlayTime. When contemplating what a film is, there are specific tropes that define the medium that come straight to mind, such as following a specific character through an emotional arc or watching a narrative or story throughout the entirety of the film like the hero’s journey. PlayTime somehow transcends these norms and tropes to create a film experience, unlike anything I have seen before or since. 

To describe PlayTime in a simple summary would be to strip the film of its character and greatness. The film is more than a comedy but its gags are endlessly witty and amusing, it is more than a story about a singular character but the viewer will be engaged and invested in every single plot point, and the movie is a quintessential French film but the style, visuals, and sound transcend language and culture.

While on paper PlayTime follows the basics of Jacques Tati’s other work, where he plays his signature character Monsieur Hulot, the film is more focused on the world Hulot inhabits. A  viewer who is familiar with Tati’s filmography can easily point to the preceding film from nearly ten years prior, Mon Oncle, as similar to this work thematically, but I would argue that PlayTime is not only an extension of those previous themes but also exploring something different entirely. 

In Mon Oncle, Tati examines class, technology, and modernity. In PlayTime, Tati examines modernity, landscape, and culture. I find that Mon Oncle is a character study of a singular environment, examining the subject of the movie’s famous modern home to produce a commentary on technology and class. Both films have an emphasis on architecture, with buildings and their technology being characters of their own, but I find that PlayTime is more sprawling, wide-ranging, and elaborate than anything Tati ever created. 

Mon Oncle provides commentary through gags that juxtapose the rich and poor while also critiquing the vanity of consumerism and the potential overindulgence in useless technology. PlayTime doesn’t take the case study approach, but rather creates commentary through vignettes of situations, condemning the alienation of the modern world and providing commentary on how Tati believed that all major cities looked the same. The time difference between the two films also plays a major role in the filmmaker, Jacques Tati, and his character, Monsieur Hulot, perspective on the world he inhabits. In Mon Oncle, the conflict comes between the past way of life versus the future and technology, while in PlayTime, the past is gone and Hulot is exploring a completely modern world. Both films thematically are in conversation with one another, but PlayTime’s scale is undeniable which creates a lasting impact on viewers. 

One of the most eye-catching aspects of PlayTime, that transcends the work above other filmmaking, is the way the characters and environments move. Every aspect on the screen seems to be in perfect conversation with each other. The background characters move and glide with purpose and the main characters demonstrate their personalities while also conforming to the environments and systems they are subject to in the scene. The way in which the characters interact transcends language and the performances together appear like a symphony of music. Like a choreographed ballet, Tati creates a world where he engineered every single element to dance with each other. When reading and watching media about the making of the film, you gain a far greater appreciation knowing that every element was crafted by Tati and his painstaking perfectionism. Due to this expert handiwork, with each rewatch you notice how Tati worked like a maestro to synchronize elements that only get noticed if you are specifically focusing on one aspect of the screen. 

Another undeniable aspect of greatness in the film is Tati’s filmmaking style which only accentuates his perfectionism and grows your appreciation for his witty charm and gags further. The biggest noticeable aspect of his filmmaking style is his use of wide shots and long takes. Scenes last a very long time, showing the entirety of a gag in one shot, while also displaying a large amount of information that makes every shot a technical masterpiece and a sight to behold. There is so much information on the screen to take in, that the viewer is forced to sit back in awe at the spectacle. Even when the shot is simple in story and only contains three characters, like the hallway scene, the viewer is still engaged thoroughly due to the fact that the scene was meticulously timed and choreographed since it takes place in a singular shot. The long takes allow gags to naturally develop and Tati’s use of the wide shot puts trust in the viewer and allows them to piece together the events of the scene. The way scenes develop appears to be chaotic but in reality, it is a work of masterful creation. 

Tati contains multitudes in his ability to create, as seen in the previously mentioned choreography, characters, and filmmaking style, but another aspect of PlayTime that displays his creativity is his knowledge of the environment and the sets. Some of the strongest gags and commentary develop due to Tati’s expressed knowledge and understanding of the world of this film. Unlike other movies and their sets, Tati created an entire city landscape that was used solely for this film before its subsequent demolition. The landscape creates wonderful gags, from the traffic circle, the neon entrance sign at the restaurant, the glass apartment buildings, or the office cubicles, Tati deliberately expresses his themes and commentary perfectly. 

The city landscape Hulot inhabits is hollow with a familiar sameness that has a negative connotation. The buildings act as machinery that feels more corporate and cold than community-focused and inviting. Tati had the thesis that all cities were beginning to look and feel the same, due to diminishing culture and technological advances that made cities feel like convention centers for tourists or businessmen rather than for real everyday human beings. This hollowness is beautifully demonstrated in the sets, including the product stands shown in the convention center having a commercialized feel to the restaurant being a facade that strips away distinguishability in favor of catering to the rich in hopes of making money. These sets strengthen the film’s commentary and set forth the theme of alienation within the modern city with the landscape itself being a character. 

In the case of PlayTime, comedy becomes the stomping ground of genius creation, where Jacques Tati goes beyond genre to create a work of art that is cinematically packed to the brim while also containing substance to think about. No matter what angle leads you to the film, either as a viewer looking for a comedy, film classic, or a director’s passion project, it contains undeniable greatness backed by scale, humor, wit, and meticulous perfection that combines to create a triumph of vision, execution, and craft.