In honor of Bastille Day, I am posting scenes from the incredible film, Playtime, directed by Jacques Tati. Tati’s Monsieur Hulot films have a running theme of cold modernism and urbanity interrupted by human nature. I’ve never particularly understood the Playtime’s plot. It’s in French, so that’s an issue for me. But, nothing seems to happen. Monsieur Hulot is put in a series of funny situations and the sets are wonderful. I know they are supposed to be cold and sterile. They represent the decay of true non-conformity and human creativity. I, however, love them. So much glass, steel, and modern devices can only be good for people.

Citroén DS, Paris, 1960s

If you’ve seen the movie 2012, don’t. I don’t expect a movie about the entire world collapsing due to crustal displacement to be very realistic, but this one pushed it beyond the limit. I spent the entire movie saying, “Yeah, right,” or “You have got to be joking.” The biggest tragedy is when a Citroén DS is destroyed. Of course, the director of the Louvre drives a vintage Citroen DS. Don’t all French people? And the British only drive Jaguars. See, “Yeah, right.”

The Citroén DS is a sublime piece of sculpture. The first model was released in 1955. Production ceased in 1975. For those who appreciate an intellectual, rather than aesthetic, point of view, Roland Barthes wrote about the Citroén in 1957. In response to its showing at the Paris Auto Show, Barthes writes, “The object here is totally prostituted, appropriated: originating from the heaven of Metropolis, the Goddess is in a quarter of an hour mediatized, actualizing through this exorcism the very essence of petit-bourgeois advancement.” To which I respond, “Yeah? Of course.”

Citroén DS, 1959

Citroén DS, 1959

Citroén DS

Citroén DS

Citroén DS, 1957, interior