On first impressions, we wonder
how we ever survived our years of schooling. Was that whole period of our lives
really as chaotic for us, we wonder, as it appears to be here? On more mature reflection,
our distaste for the neglect of Doinel, the boy hero of the piece, establishes itself.
In the final analysis, Doinel is forced to fall back on his own resources if he
is to survive his unfortunate position as the most vulnerable link in his dysfunctional
family.
Filmed in 1959, a present-day
audience perhaps forms their opinions in the order outlined above. We are
introduced to Doinel in his classroom. We don’t know then that he is a wilful
individual, and has a track record of causing problems for his parents. On the
day we first meet him, he lands himself in trouble with his teacher, and we
follow him through the streets of urban Paris,
as he makes way back to his parents’ appartment in the company of his pal, Rene. In
the appartment he amuses himself inconsequentially with some of his parents’
things, and sets the table for the evening meal. As he gets about the place, we
learn about the appartment’s set-up, it’s established
order, such as it is. The appartment has a shabby air but, we reflect, the classroom
did too. Later, we find the Doinel’s bed is in the appartment’s corridor. Although
that surprises us, we’re still not sure: Maybe that is how things generally were
at that time? Things could be worse, we suppose. As the film progresses, our
opinion changes on this bed-in-the-appartment-corridor business, and what it
symptomises. We are initially buoyed by the hilarity of the classroom scenes
(these scenes are brilliant, and special mention surely is due to the children
playing the pupils so naturally, and to the director for capturing each
childish gesture) but gradually get a sinking feeling, a sense that things are
not quite right somehow.
We suspect that Doinel’s path is evolving
to be progressively more dangerous when his pranks with Rene become more and
more daring. Although Paris
is beautiful, it’s perhaps not a place for an inquisitive, spirited, neglected,
child like Doinel to roam untrammeled. We appreciate this, and it seems
plausible to think that the director is telling us this. Following a round-about
route, and by dint of his own initiative and daring, but in what are less than favourable circumstances, Doinel partly
realises some of his goals, and we are pleased for him. Is he looking at us
when he looks directly at the camera, or at his pursuers? Who knows. When we leave him, he has perhaps come to better
appreciate the possibilitites of his world, now that he has reached one of its
limits.
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