Les vacances de Monsieur Hulot

It's not surprising that most folks either love the movie or hate it. In fact, few films are more unlike today's comedy style than this one. It's neither manic, nor in-your-face, nor aimed at the belly-laugh. Instead, it's leisurely paced, subtly structured, and aimed at the mild chuckle, while the closest the set-ups come to the scatological are boys ogling the lovely Martine. So, all in all, don't expect to see its like at the neighborhood Cineplex anytime soon.

Tati's unusual brand of humor comes from observing life's minutiae—simple things, such as swinging doors, balky cars, and exaggerated social graces. In short, he manages to remark on the unremarkable in an amusing way. Of course, this kind of ground-level humor is not everyone's cup of tea. For me, not all the set-ups work; at the same time, the humor tends to wear thin over the 90 minutes. Still, there's a subtle charm working its way through that's quite compelling and unlike anything else I've seen. Perhaps the reviewer who finds an underlying innocence puts his/her finger on the secret of the appeal. And when the camera lingers at the end on the now deserted beach, there's a sense of some kind of wistful loss. But I've never been able to figure out exactly of what.