Jacques Tati’s Playtime (1967) is an absolute classic. It’s a near perfect, universally loved (by critics and the film community at least) comedy set in a futuristic reimagining of Paris. It follows Tati’s character, Monsieur Hulot, as he gets lost, a group of American tourists ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ at the sights and a disastrous restaurant opening. Tati transforms Paris into a circus of gray boxes and confused people, exploring themes of modernism, humanity and consumerism in a light-hearted, playfully satirical tone, similar to how Chaplin approached heavy topics in his stuff. Playtime is a visual delight and lives up to the title in its playful atmosphere. Watching it feels like being a young child running through your parent’s office exploring the different floors, playing with the spinny chairs, interrupting meetings and just getting lost in the place. There is constantly something happening somewhere in every frame, so if anything, the film risks overwhelming the audience with all the chaos, on first viewing at least. On the bright side, this makes it one of those movies that gets better with every viewing. I decided to show my family this masterpiece. They hated it.
That.. That one hurt. It hurt real bad, not gonna lie. Maybe I miscalculated, but I really didn’t think Playtime was that high! My thought process was. “I mean.. The film really doesn’t ask anything of the audience but to.. sit and WATCH!! Everything’s there! You don’t exactly have to churn your brain to follow the stuff that’s going on!!” .. I didn’t think so at least? I mean.. It really does just require you to sit and watch, but I knew why they hated it. I knew the whole time I was torturing them exactly what it was that caused a disconnect.. I guess I just expected them to get over that small hurdle.
“It’s not going anywhere”
Jacques Tati’s Playtime is a film without a plot. Don’t get me wrong, there’s most definitely a STORY, but there is no straightforward plot. Sure, stuff’s happening, but there is no real “character development” “plot progression” or “rising/ falling action.” Instead, the focus is put on these characters interacting with their setting. It’s in the clothing, the sounds, the architecture and the sight gags that the story is told: the exaggerated ‘BEEPS’ and ‘BOOPS’; the trench coats and pipes; the amount of times M. Hulot is confused for someone else; the devices that seem to cause more inconveniences than anything else; the sea of gray walls and furniture that is only occasionally infiltrated by a historic Parisian site.. reflected against a glass door. It is in these interactions that we see the themes start to unfold. That’s where we see the chaos, the comedy, the conflict and, above all, the story.
Like I said before, maybe I really did reach a bit too far by trying to show arthouse to my family, but the point stands that there is just one detail about the execution of the story that created this apparent barrier they just couldn’t break. When you get over that one thing, you realize how great the story is. Actually, when I think about it, I’ve tried to recommend people several things that they’ve been apprehensive about because of some small thing that makes it different from stuff they’re used to. So, did I come up with this entire essay out of spite? YES.
Let’s delve.
Right off the bat, let me be fair. I know I may have a special tolerance for new artforms and genres, because I have a natural curiosity (and even excitement) for exploring new forms, cultures and genres I’m not familiar with. The resistance most people seem to feel has never been (too) much of a thing I’ve experienced. I like to say that if there’s a form (I haven’t experienced before) that I’m resistant to trying, it’s more of a “not yet” thing for me than a “no thanks” thing. Even if there’s a little resistance initially, I deliberately try to reserve judgement until I feel like I’ve consumed enough of the art to feel like I understand it/ get the appeal. This has been the case for me with some of my favourite stuff now.
To briefly give an example, I was a bit resistant to spaghetti westerns at first. The slowburn nature and long silences, especially of Sergio Leone’s stuff, was a huge bummer for me at first, but now those very qualities are what make me love the genre. I remember the first time I attempted to watch Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), I had to bail because it was just too boring for me, and I wasn’t willing to give it my evening. Upon the next attempt, I did watch the full thing, but I went on my cellular every time I got bored (I was on the thing basically the whole time). By the third attempt, though, I was much more versed with the genre, I’d seen all Leone’s other work, I’d seen my share of more obscure spaghetti westerns, I’d seen some American stuff, I’d seen some samurai stuff, and I’d watched some stuff for little reason other than to hear Morricone’s music. Needless to say, at this point, I now knew the genre. I now knew the grammar. I knew I would love West this time. I put the phone down, and it was one of the greatest viewing experiences of my life. I could say similar things for my experience with silent films, some sitcoms and novels. What I realize is that once you get past this initial resistance and just accept things for what they are (rather than what they’re not) you can have new experiences you’d never expect you’d love.
Experiencing art in new ways be they genre, medium or era is something I think is not only rewarding but also important. Story is such a universal thing. It’s probably the most universal thing we have as a species. The ways we experience it are merely dialects of the same language. They may have their own grammar rules and cultural backgrounds, but make no mistake, story is one language. What makes things difficult, though, is that when you’re used to only one dialect or vernacular, it may be more difficult to understand others, but when you immerse yourself in the dialect a for a bit, you pick it up. Once you get past that initial resistance, you realize how shallow those little borders are. I’ve actually done a little activity where every week I’d create a new story, but each time in a different genre. It was surprising how easy it is to switch up some small details to make stories, often with similar themes, fall into entirely different genres. I mentioned in an earlier essay that pretty much everything I’ve created in the past year has had essentially the same message/ the same story. In fact, I realized recently that (if you will permit me to plug my other work) my essay, Why do you Smile for Pictures, and my oneshot, ..but I don’t like parties.., have the exact same story, beat for beat. They’re just told in different ways.
Here’s the part where I rant about some of the shallowest excuses I’ve heard people give for why they won’t get into some things. Skip the next bit if you want, I’m just blowing steam here. (BTW if you are someone who says or does some of these things, sorry if I attack you.. but stop it.)
· “I draw the line at watching anything in black and white.” This essay will be twice as long if I go into every reason why this is dumb. I’ll assume this is a jab at older media despite the fact that not only were there films with colour throughout the entire history of the medium but there are stuff done in black and white today. The statement also assumes that the time something was released has any correlation with the quality. Shallow. Lazy. Stop it.
· While the hate’s died down more, nowadays, I know there are lots of people whole refuse to touch anime with a ten-foot pole (which is mostly the fault of the fans and the stuff they embrace, to be fair). Despite what the fans will have you believe, anime’s not a special thing. It’s just another medium. It’s no better or worse than other mediums. It may attract a certain crowd (which is something I have a few theories about) but make no mistake, it’s really not special. I remember I almost abandoned it myself until I had to remind myself of that (the fact that I was away from the fans also helped). Just toss the word “anime” and just view them as animated shows that happen to come from Japan; it gets significantly less annoying. Trust me.
· I know some people (native English speakers, literally just native English speakers) are somehow so opposed to watching things with subtitles. Maybe it’s one of those things I’m more opened to because I’m versed with Japanimation, but come on, it’s not as much work as some of you make it seem. Same for listening to songs in foreign languages. It’s not that strange. You’re not the center of the world. Stop it.
· I mentioned earlier the people who dodge older media (you people have no idea how much of a disservice you’re doing yourselves), but there are also the elitists (and old people) who write off all new media. While I definitely understand that there are some genuine industry problems going on nowadays, that doesn’t mean that nothing today can be good. You’re just as bad as the hurtheads afraid of everything that came out before they were born. Stop it.
People’ve come up with all these convenient excuses for why they can’t step out of their comfort zone. It’s sad. For THEM.
Having said that, I understand that we do have our natural preferences. For example, I’m a primarily visual person. I speak visually and prefer to consume visually. I do have a bit more trouble connecting with the written word (though I’ve been trying). It took me way too long to realize I can’t study from textbooks, and though I do read, novels really aren’t my preferred medium. It’s not uncommon for me to read an entire chapter and not remember a single thing that happened. I know I’m writing right now (and some people’ve said I’m pretty good), but trust me, I write WAY better than I talk. I connect better with pretty colours, cinematography and shot composition. I like paintings, fine cinema and graphic novels. Those are my natural preferences. This is why the education system tortured me. Still, like I said before, I do make the effort to read. I do make the effort to improve my writing. As a result, I’ve read lots of great novels that I’ve heavily connected with. I’ve also written some essays people seem to connect with. But let me not act like everything’s going to just click with you if you try it long enough. One of the few genres, if not the only genre, I truly struggle to connect with is fantasy. I just don’t like it. I’m sorry. That isn’t to say I haven’t tried it, though. I really have, and you know what? I DO like some fantasy stories, but it’s always in spite of the genre. As an aesthetic, as a vibe, as a setting, nah. It’s not my style. Please don’t stone me. But the most important thing here is, I tried. I opened myself up to it, I embraced it, I think I understand the appeal, it’s not for me. And that’s fine.
Art has no rules. Story has no form. We’ve created formulas to convey stories and art so audiences will receive them with more ease. Art is broad and takes different forms perhaps to convey different themes or appeal to different audiences, but art is art. No form is better or worse than another. Not everything may be made for the same reasons, maybe some art isn’t even aware that it’s art, but art is art. Its forms are simply dialects of the same language, clothes to be worn, presentation, delivery. The form an artist chooses to express their story does not have to be a barrier. The approach I tend to choose nowadays is to, frankly, shut up, assume the best of the creator and listen to what they’re trying to say. Throw out your biases and little perceptions of what art ‘is’ or ‘should be’ and listen to what’s being said. Sure, it’s a disappointment when I’m assaulted by an onslaught of soulless, corporate cash grabs or other cheap, sensationalistic, shallow art (and presentation can, and often does, fall flat), but I’ve also had some of the best artistic experiences of my life with this approach. My sensibilities have expanded, my library’s grown, life makes more sense, cheers! The power of art lies in its ability to take you through different experiences via careful emotional manipulation. This is, of course, both beautiful and dangerous, which is a big reason why I try to encourage people to expand their sensibilities as well as seek to understand art better, especially now when we’re exposed to art constantly with entertainment, advertising, even meme culture. It does amaze me how powerful, yet undervalued art is today. More on that maybe some other time, but the point I’m trying to drive home here is that art is art. It should not be dismissed (immediately) based on the form it takes, especially not of it’s something you’re unfamiliar with.
Playtime is a film that chooses to tell its story without a traditional ‘plot’, but if you get hung up on something like that, you could miss out on something great. Stories don’t need plot, characters, setting or any of that other stuff. Those things are common, but they really aren’t necessary. Stories don’t need to have colour, words, pictures or sound. They don’t need movement. They don’t need to be tactile. They don’t need to be digital. They don’t need to have been created today, yesterday, tomorrow or one hundred years ago. Art doesn’t need to be or not be anything. We created those rules. We can create more. We can break them. The best artists do. These little rules and forms don’t need to hold you down. It's all about the emotional journey.
It's all about the story.
See, the most ironic part of all this is that this essay yet another version of Why do you Smile for Pictures.
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