Reviews

Most of what I feel about this film has already been said: it is a must at Christmas, it is modern, feminist, strong, well thought-out, beautiful, funny, sweet, charming, has a great soundtrack, lovely people, has the right amount of emotions, is playful, one for the children and grown-ups alike. The only problem with it is that it seems virtually unknown in Scotland and it saddens me to think that so many British children might never know the joys of this piece of total magic. It should be compulsory.

The Hairdresser's husband must be one of the most endearing films about love in the history of cinema. It is art -and it is artful- in the classic sense, depicting love and beauty in an abstract form (what some have referred to as otherworldly, I would describe as pure concepts...). Although one could interpret the main character's insistent (yet indescribably gentle) interest in hairdressers as obsessive, this analysis would in my opinion not give credit to the metaphorical power of what is essentially a tender and at times quite common, trivial even, lovestory. It is tragic, and funny, and sweet and bitter. It is a quiet film. It is nonconventional. And that is what makes it such a treat to watch. In the tradition of Truffaut and even Louis Malle, this pleases the eye and the soul with an ease that one can (perhaps only?) find in French cinema and which reminds one every time that high art must not be difficult, it may simply convey emotion.

La nuit americaine is not considered one of Truffaut's masterpieces, like, for example 'Jules et Jim' or 'Les 400 coups', but for me it's well up there with the best of'em. It is essentially a semi-documentary (with the Truffaut-obligatory autobiographical elements thrown in for (very) good measure), about shooting a romantic film in the seventies and the difficulties and eccentricities connected to that particular metier, i.e. 'le cinema'. There is not so much a storyline than a collection of connected anecdotes -the semi-alcoholic old diva who forgets her lines, the childish and selfish young actor whose behaviour causes problems in the love-department, the sex, the snogging, the flirting that goes on whenever a group of people come together for a time and live/work in close proximity- and the film is held together by the fact that director Truffaut plays the director, i.e. makes a movie. One believes one is learning a lot about the process of film-making, until one realises that, of course, this is NOT A DOCUMENTARY, but a film in a film in a film... it's brilliantly done. I went away from this film with a great feeling in my belly, a feeling of happiness, as if I had just experienced a nice holiday or a great day out with lots of friends.

There is no baddie and no goodie in this film. One can like every character a little bit, as one does with one's friends or one's family. So full of joy, so full of great little jokes, visual or spoken, so full of the fruity French sun... What strikes me as most impressive is that with only the faintest sketches given in those 2 hours Truffaut manages to give us lots of real people more believable than in many an American movie which spends that same amount of time on perhaps one main character.

Delightful!

The war of the buttons is one of those films that warms the cockles even at a tender age (where such nostalgic sentimentality like cocklewarming is not even a concept yet). The artful description of human nature at its early stages, the heartache of being young, the struggle of empowering onself and of feeling powerless in a world dominated by grown-up violence and/or indifference is so tender, so enchanting that it should be compulsory on school curricula, at least for students of French. Seeing this film makes me yearn for the French countryside, it makes me laugh, it makes me happy, it makes me want to be child and to have a child of my own. And it also moves me to tears, and makes me remember the agonies of childhood. In short, this film is true art in the old philosophical sense: it produces emotion, true emotion, it depicts beauty and it involves its audience in thorough katharsis. A gem.

The story of the black cauldron is essentially concerned with the very real threat of evil and this dark atmosphere makes for interesting viewing. Unlike most other Disney films this one offers few moments of light relief and thus begs the question is this a film suitable for children under five? However, its uncompromising, unsentimental darkness elevates it in my view above the more common fare usually dished out by those in the animation trade. The story itself is sometimes patchily told -too much has been compressed into too little time, and often it feels unfortunately cut. This aside the film is to be recommended, not least because it is so little known -compared to, for example, the incredibly rubbishy Lion King or the vomitous Pocahontas.