The 400 Blows (1959, Francois Truffaut)
I was originally planning to start this blog post with a film by Elia Kazan so that this entire piece could somehow revolve around the Red Scare theme, but I have to get myself a little more acquainted with both On the Waterfront and East of Eden. Instead, I went in a different direction. So far, the films I’ve written about have been, for the most part, thrillers or action oriented. Upon realizing this, I aimed to write about the film that most affected me emotionally; that film is Les Quatre Cent Coups, or as it is known in English, The 400 Blows.
I don’t remember how many films I screened in my French film class in college, all of seventeen or eighteen years ago, but there are only four or five films that I remember vividly. The 400 Blows is a film I will never forget. The fact that this was Truffaut’s feature film debut is more than impressive; it’s practically unbelievable. It was one of the first popular examples of the French New Wave, and in my opinion, one of its standard bearers.
Antoine Doinel is the main character, an adolescent who most everyone in his life has either ignored or pegged as a troublemaker. (In fact, the French title of the film, which was literally translated into English, is slang for “raising hell”). But, most of the time, Doinel seems a victim of circumstance; no more a hooligan than many of the other kids his age, but trapped in a self-fulfilling prophecy. What follows is a stark, tragic and gut-wrenching tale.
Doinel is always on the outside, looking in. He sleeps in a cot in the entryway of his mother’s small apartment. He discovers his mother is having an affair and that his father is really his stepfather. He’s blamed for things he hasn’t done, and even when he does make a mistake, it’s in the interest of bettering himself, such as when he builds a shrine to Balzac, nearly burns down the apartment, and then his resulting Balzac-inspired essay is thought to be plagiarized.
If Doinel eventually does give in to a life of adult crime, it is only because the adults in his life have allowed it to happen. The closing scene is one of the most memorable in the history of cinema. Antoine, after having been placed in a jail cell with adult criminals and prostitutes, then shipped off to a work camp, runs away, toward the beach, as far as he can, then turns to face the camera, the audience, and theoretically, his past, his future, and his accusers. I could never claim to completely empathize with Antoine. I did, however, make my fair share of trouble as a child, and, on more than one occasion, was left to my own devices. Truffaut made this as an autobiographical film. He is Antoine Doinel. I was not, but I feel only slightly distanced from his world. The 400 Blows is truly a masterpiece of cinema, one I return to regularly.
High Noon (1952, Fred Zinneman)
High Noon is another story of someone isolated, but in a different way. Based on John Cunningham’s short story, "The Tin Star," Fred Zinneman wanted to turn this western tale into an allegory of the Red Scare and blacklisting in particular, a brave feat considering it was happening at the time. During the makig of the film, the screenwriter, Carl Foreman, was called in to see the committee for having been a former member of the Communist Party some ten years earlier.
Gary Cooper plays Will Kane, the retiring Marshal of a small New Mexico territory town, having just been married to Amy, his pacifist Quaker wife, played by Grace Kelly in only her second performance. But, Kane hears that a man he captured got off on a technicality, and is on his way to town to enact his revenge. Despite a desire to start his new life, Kane feels a duty to stay and face the criminal and his gang. He looks to fill the ranks of deputies, or at least to get some help in defending the town. But, his deputy, played by Lloyd Bridges, feels slighted and quits. The rest of the townspeople are equally unhelpful, motivated by fear and cowardice. The only one people who attempt to do anything in Kane’s defense are the two women in his life, his wife Amy, and his former flame, played by the stunning Katy Jurado.
Kane ultimately has to face down the gang on his own, abandoned by the town he devoted his life to protecting. Relying on his wits and experience, Kane guns down the criminals, as could be expected, and the cowering townspeople come out of the woodwork. Kane boards a stage with his wife, and throws his badge down in disgust.
One of the notable things about this film is the real-time storytelling. Criminal Frank Miller is due in town at, you guessed it, High Noon, and we see every minute leading up to that hour, and the few action packed minutes after it. This method is something that most directors, then or now, of the popular Hollywood machine, could not pull off nearly as effectively. The film stirred some controversy when John Wayne and Howard Hawks took offense at the film, saying the story was completely unbelievable and in Wayne’s words, “un-American.” Well, wasn’t that Zinneman’s point about blacklisting? Wayne even went on to take pride in helping blacklist screenwriter Foreman. They made a film that was an answer to High Noon, in Rio Bravo. With my views, it’s hard for me to see it outside of this light, even though I do enjoy the film, and it might end up being profiled in this blog.
Regardless, High Noon is a landmark film, the quintessential example of the lone hero against insurmountable odds. And, despite its original political statement, has been enjoyed by two Presidents considered by some to be the respective heroes of both political parties, Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton. I don’t know if I could watch it 17 times in eight years, as done by Clinton, but I understand its appeal.
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