What a breath of fresh air this film is. Over 50 years old and The 400 Blows is still as relevant and moving as it was when Francois Truffaut unleashed it into French cinema. It is a beautiful and sad tale of Antoine Doinel, a twelve year old boy living in poverty who, treated unfairly and without understanding throughout his entire childhood, turns to a life of petty crime on the streets of Paris. It presents a caring look at childhood that avoids any deadly sentimentality, and really tries to present the plight of Antoine in a way that is sympathetic while giving a reproachful glare to the adults that fill his world.
The audience is introduced to Antoine in his classroom where he is caught with the hot potato (a smutty picture) in his hands. Snickering children watch as he is reproached and made to stand in the corner. He teacher is a draconian "sourpuss" who seems to dislike Antoine simply because he is unintelligent and always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He is slapped, he is punished, and eventually he is suspended for telling lies far greater than what he could contend with.
His home life is no better. His mother is a vain and unpleasant woman who constantly yells and verbally abuses him. At first I hoped that there might have been a beacon of light with his father who at first glance seems to be more jovial and funny, but his welcome is soon worn out and it becomes clear that the only affection that poor little Antoine receives is from his friends, particularly Rene. It is with Rene that he drinks, smokes cigarettes, steals, plays in the arcade, and generally escapes from the constant put-downs.
It's hard not to hate the adults in this movie. So much more is known about childhood education now that Antoine today would not be labeled a troubled child; he might be diagnosed with ADD, or might even be considered a gifted child. He often complains about not being able to focus. Any decent educator today would easily take that sort of boredom as a sign for either of those or half a dozen other issues. What's heartbreaking about this is Antoine gets punished not for a lack of trying, but a lack of results. It is probably more likely that Antoine had ADD or dyslexia or something else the matter that prevented him from learning ably, but his teacher and his parents expected far more than he could produce. The pressure of high expectations and continuous failing was probably the reason that drove a child like him to lash out in the way that he did. Notice that the first time that he runs off is because he cannot meet the expectations set out for him. He is shamed, and that is infuriating.
I watched this wonderful French documentary last year called To Be and To Have which is about a little schoolhouse high up in the mountains. All of the children, preschool through probably fifth or sixth grade, are taught in one room by one teacher, Georges Lopez. He is a man of infinite patience who has gained the respect of his students not by intimidation, but by love and a genuine desire to see each of his students exceed. It was clear that some of the children had some sort of special needs, but he gave them all the same time and respect that he expected in return. I jotted the name of this movie in my notes while I watched The 400 Blows as I could only imagine the different and infinitely better life Antoine might have had if only he had someone who could work to meet him halfway.
The on-the-nose irony of this film come from the adults' constant preaching and disdain for Antoine's misbehavior, whose scrutinizing eyes never turn on themselves. This film is so much about what is not seen and not said. It is a highly sexual film if you watch for it; sins of the flesh drive so many of the characters on a number of different scales, but people like Antoine's mother discourage smutty talk. Through most of it I had the general sense that something larger was behind the relationship between Antoine and his parents that was unspoken. At the end he meets with a psychologist where he talks of his past--the scene brought me to tears (I have been kind of weepy lately though...). His honesty, the nonchalant way he said so many things that made me cringe, the life he lead was abhorred. The actor playing him is a little boy named Jean-Pierre Leaud whose raw talent is astonishing. Had it been an American film he might have garnered an Oscar nomination from that scene alone.
Thus far I have presented this as a rather bleak movie--which it is to a point. These are very unhappy circumstances, but Truffaut takes care not to make this too much of a sob story. The happy moments he puts in are all the more so because of their juxtaposition to the many unhappy ones. There is scene which made my face hurt because I was smiling so big. Antoine and Rene run off and watch a children's puppet show (Little Red Riding Hood). There is maybe a hundred children in the audience and Truffaut has the camera on the faces of the little ones for a steady two or three minutes, watching them watch the fairy tale. Such naked wonderment and joy and innocence is captivating--more than captivating, it is enchanting. Truffaut's movie is like this puppet show. It is drama wrapped in whimsy, a man-eating wolf dressed in women's clothing. The content is upsetting, but it is still a film about a little boy trying hard not to lose all of his childhood. Most is gone, but he still clings on. There is power in play, and there is power in love. He tries not to give up on both.
4/4
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