Numerootno A story that's too fascinating to pass by...

Catangro After playing with our expectations, this turns out to be a very different sort of film.

Juana what a terribly boring film. I'm sorry but this is absolutely not deserving of best picture and will be forgotten quickly. Entertaining and engaging cinema? No. Nothing performances with flat faces and mistaking silence for subtlety.

Edwin The storyline feels a little thin and moth-eaten in parts but this sequel is plenty of fun.

oOoBarracuda Worldwide critical and commercial success following Francois Truffaut's debut feature The 400 Blows, left him free to tackle almost anything for his sophomore feature.After being smitten with Charles Aznavour after seeing him perform in a play "The Keepers", Truffaut knew he had to cast him in a feature film to play a version of himself. After making a biographical film covering his youth with his debut film, Truffaut sought to express other aspects of his personality. Truffaut saw himself as "often anxious, pessimistic, a pathologically shy seducer", and thought that Charles Aznavour could embody those personality traits with ease. Truffaut saw Aznavour as being able to provide the character with a vulnerable humility and graciousness that could mirror Truffaut's. It did not go without notice that, once again, Truffaut even cast a person that looked like him in a role playing a version of himself. In the case of Aznavour, he and Truffaut even shared mannerisms, with both being expressive, vivacious, excitable and anxious, elegant, yet iron-willed. Truffaut first became interested in Down There, the novel by David Goodis, because he was intrigued by the story, which read like a fairy tale given the noir treatment. Truffaut saw the text as a detective-like thriller, but also an intimate novel, a blending of themes he felt he could illustrate onscreen. Seeking to test his range as a filmmaker, Truffaut wanted to make a film in stark contrast to The 400 Blows with his second feature which began shooting in November of 1959. With double the budget he had to work with on The 400 Blows, Truffaut was free to be creative and expressive with experimentation on the set of Shoot the Piano Player. Being as the film involves a pianist, Truffaut injected the musical elements of the story into the narrative by often changing tempo to make the film more musical. The initial reviews on Shoot the Piano Player were mixed which greatly depressed Truffaut and began to undermine his confidence. The negative box office draw left Truffaut thinking of the film as a dreadful failure. The years have been kinder to Shoot the Piano Player than Truffaut was, as it is now regarded not only among the best of his films but among the best examples of French New Wave.At the heart of the film, Shoot the Piano Player is about Charles Aznavour's characterization of a sentimental hero. Feeling culpable after his wife's suicide, Charlie Kohler has given up his life and career as a concert pianist for dive bars and an escape from the world. His commitment to keeping himself isolated works for Charlie, until his brother, Chico (Albert Rémy) quite literally, crashes into his life after getting himself into trouble with two gangsters. Chico is on the run and looking to Charlie for help. Charlie helps Chico escape, but not without turning the attention of the gangsters onto himself. Charlie doesn't mind taking the heat until his younger brother Fido (Richard Kanayan) gets involved. Fido had been under the care of Chico and had adopted many of his delinquent behaviors. When everyone Charlie loves becomes entangled in his brother's criminal affairs, Charlie has to abandon his cautious shyness and take action, to disastrous results. Who can blend slapstick comedy, a doomed romance, and gangster thriller? The answer is Francois Truffaut, but that combination of such starkly different dramatic tones is what critics responded negatively to upon its initial release. The overwhelming cloud of melancholy hanging over the film makes the audience immediately sympathize with our sentimental hero, Charlie. We're given the impression that he has accepted his life as a depression-filled existence with moments of bliss, not unlike a Woody Allen film. The frenetic energy from the very beginning of the film pulls the audience in and never lets go. All intrigue and sense of mystery is instantly established with the panicked running of Chico through the streets, as the audience is unaware of where he is running to, or who he is running from. After crashing into a light pole, Chico takes the time to have a conversation with a married man to discuss the benefits of marriage. This interaction not only informs the audience of one of the themes in the film, loss and the relationships that enhance human life. In addition to Truffaut offering Shoot the Piano Player as an homage to American gangster films, he also pays tribute to slapstick and silent films. The scene in which Fido and his friends are shown running up the stairs of an apartment building to throw milk out the window on a car below is beautifully sped up and cut in such a way that one is reminded of a Buster Keaton gag. The opening of the film with the camera focusing on the inner workings of Charlie's piano while the beautiful music he plays is heard is a brilliant way to be introduced to the softness of Francois Truffaut, and the loving treatment he gives his characters. The score in itself is amazing and lends itself greatly to the tension building, while also providing an insight into Charlie's life. I purchased the score immediately after finishing the film, and have been blissfully listening to it, practically on repeat. Francois Truffaut was an avid fan of music and took sincere care in crafting his score selections around his films. All innovative aspects of The French New Wave I love are present in Shoot the Piano Player. The jump cuts, the overlays, the freeze-frames, and the experimental editing all come together to prove that Shoot the Piano Player is a dazzling part of The French New Wave despite its initial reception. If you've been following my trip through Francois Truffaut's filmography this month, you're probably tired of hearing me discuss the amount of heart found in each of his features. The autobiographical elements, coupled with the graceful way Francois depicts his characters shows his deep level of respect for the human condition. Truffaut lays bare his troubles with interpersonal relationships and his longing for love in each of his films. He covers heartbreak, especially, in a touching way. We feel the pain of our sentimental hero as the camera lingers on his face, highlighting his disappointment about his predicament but leaving a glimmer of hope toward the future. Shoot the Piano Player exposes various aspects of Truffaut's own identity; the film is fun and energetic, mysterious, and most importantly richly humanist making clear the fact that Francois Truffaut made this film for no one other than himself, the audience is just lucky enough to be able to experience it, too.

Antonius Block Everyone talks about how much of an homage this is to Hollywood film noir, but to me it seems much more like a light version of a Hollywood gangster film. Sure, there are some scenes at night and the film is black and white, but the plot is straightforward, there's not a lot of gritty drama, and the 'bad guys' are not all that menacing. That doesn't make the film bad, just miscategorized. What I found most interesting was the running theme of the nature of the relationship between men and women, the 'new wave' cinematography Truffaut includes (including cool scenes shot out of a car window at night in the winter towards the end), and the humanism of the timid piano player, sucked up into clashes with criminals as well as a love affair, and whose past is gradually revealed. It's enjoyable but relative to the gangster story there are several moments which don't seem honest or real, and the shootout scene is cheesy. On the other hand, the relationship aspects are fascinating, the film is enjoyable from start to finish, and it's cool to watch a Truffaut film from 1960 – watch it for that.

Prismark10 Francois Truffaut's follow up to The 400 Blows was a muscular yet whimsical and freewheeling homage to the Hollywood gangster films.Charles Aznavour was once a famous concert pianist playing as Edouard Saroyan but since his wife's death has changed his name to Charlie Kohler and plays in a dive bar.Charlie takes care of his younger brother Fido, is friendly with a prostitute in the same apartment block and slowly started a relationship with Lena a co-worker in the bar who knows about his previous life.This desolate existence is shattered when his brother Richard turns up from the countryside as he is being chased by gangsters who he with his other brother they have double crossed.Charlie has to enter a dangerous real world as he realises Fido's life is in danger. Although Charlie's life is melancholic there is a a lot of sweetness, comedy and romance in this film before it gets darker as thuggery takes centre stage.Like the emerging French new wave the film does not fit one genre, even at one point feeling like an art house picture as we are transported to Charlie's life as a concert pianist.A hugely enjoyable wild ride, a film whose very title has become famous and Aznavour is perfect casting as Charlie.

sharky_55 After the elaborate success of his debut Truffaut went into this film seeking to subvert and play with the noir archetypes, the Hollywood B-movies with the jaded, rough edged leading men, the despicable criminals, the sultry femme fatales. So the film shifts from the jaunty opening piano tune to a dizzying night-time chase; smash cuts push the headlights up into the running man, which then suddenly switches to a mundane conversation about the challenges of married life. There are no clear cut rules or boundaries here as the French New Wave dictates, so clichés get turned on their head. Charlie and Lena get picked up in broad daylight and driven to god- knows-where, but the conversation inexplicably turns into a humorous matter-of-fact spiel about the perils and madness of the women in their lives. See how Truffaut shoots this scene; the camera free-flowing and hand-held, capturing their giggles and jokes as if this was not a threatening kidnapping but rather young students on a summer road-trip. In Aznavour we have a timid, almost cowering leading man. He plays his cheerful piano at the local dive whilst the patrons dance away during the night of their lives and his face is curled up in the background, forlorn and miserable. This composition is not withdrawn and broody as it should be; in fact the humour comes from the irony and almost bizarre, slapstick contrast it creates. We see it again in the closing shots. Opposing this feeble lead are strong female characters; not ones that abuse and flaunt their sexuality, but thoughtful, vulnerable women who see past convention and are not so easily wooed. The most genuine and startlingly funny scene is Charlie attempting the simple act of trying to hold Lena's hand. This little action is ballooned up in his thoughts - he extrapolates everything and panics over the slightest reaction. His intrusive, gun-shy thoughts are not unlike our own - slowly weeding its way into our insecurities and making a big deal out of nothing. And then it is not anything he does, but rather the sheer physical embarrassment on his face that opens the floodgates and smiles. Another notable scene is his nervousness in pushing the bell to the door of the audition; Truffaut pushes into closeup more and more with each successive edit, then abruptly cuts to a wide shot of the hallway, showing just how tiny and insignificant he is. He shrinks instead of rising to the challenge. Would a noir ever apply this cut to its protagonist? What a cosmic farce Charlie lives in. He shows not the least amount of interest in the criminal affairs that he is nevertheless dragged in because of his family. The genre morphing from Truffaut has led him to become thoroughly confused about what sort of man he is and what sort of man he should be. Instead of comforting his despairing wife like his good nature tells (nags incessantly, more like) him to, he runs away coldly like a noir hero might, buffeted by his troubling thoughts. And he drags Lena back into the underground, and gets her killed in a meaningless affair. Nothing ever seems to fit nicely. The kidnappers again descend into comical nonsense as they debate many trivialities with the young Fido who should be terrified. Tinkling, light music invades the dark, grim night-scapes. Charlie is left once again to play his cheerful tunes. His face is etched in regret; how could he have gone wrong?