The other week, I was having a discussion on themed roller coasters. I shared my nerdy opinion that plot/character driven “story” coasters (Expedition Everest, Incredicoaster) ultimately fall flat due to the limitations of the ride-type and that “experiential” themes, where there isn’t a driving story so much as a series of experiences (Big Thunder, Space, etc.) are better suited for the medium. Dork, I know.
I bring it up because “Playtime” is one of the few examples I’ve seen of a film that is more of an experience, than a true story. “Playtime” is a French film by Jaques Tati, a famous French mime and filmmaker. Tati is known for films that play with physical comedy, relegate dialogue to background chatter, and explore the absurdity of modern, technological society. In his films, Tati plays Monsieur Hulot, a clumsy, naive, somewhat suspicious but generally affable character who wears an overcoat, hat, and smokes a pipe. Hulot appears in “Playtime”, weaved through the film’s six distinct sequences as a thru-line; the “main”-supporting character. The film moves from the airport, to an office building, a trade exhibition, apartments, a nightclub, and finishes on the streets. During these sequences, we see Hulot and a few other regular supporting characters (an attractive American tourist—one in a gaggle of tourists—a business man, a doorman, a German salesman, and more) navigating sterile, glass, consumerist, modern environments. The movie just sort of floats through their experiences without ever really presenting main characters or a traditional, driving plot.
“Playtime” is a film that I didn’t really know what to make of, as I watched it, but it’s been sitting with me quite a bit since my screening. Part Looney Tunes gags in live action, part high-art exploration of the absurdities of modernity, the film is quite a mash-up. I giggled at scenes where stuffy-pleather chairs emit a flatulent whine when sat on or tear at patrons clothing with their spiky, modern design. Where men are lost in a sea of glass doors and windows, and women peruse travel posters for identical urban destinations (as true landmarks reflect in the windows, unnoticed). And I steeped in the amusing yet subtle-sadness in seeing rows of people watching TV from their glass-windowed apartments, appearing as small characters on their own TV shows to the outside world. I think in cinema, I ultimately prefer a main character and character arc to root for and at times found myself itching, ready for the film to move onto the next sequence—that probably says more about me and the irritable pace of my life than it does Tati’s work. But love the film’s idea that, you can put humans in lanes, rows, cubicles, parking spaces, and glass boxes but at the end of the day, after a little wine, a little music, and the unavoidable desire to connect, we still manage to emerge as human.