Rating:
by Derek Smith 1/28/09

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The opening sequence of Shoot the Piano Player is a perfect metaphor for the French New Wave’s approach to cinema.  The main piano theme is played over a shot of the inside of the piano, revealing to the audience the inner workings of the instrument, while still allowing for enjoyment of the music itself.  Truffaut’s cinema, particularly this film, works the same way, here taking an established genre and cinematic conventions and peeling back layers to show us the underlying structure, yet doing so in a way that never once takes away from its emotional impact or dramatic tension.  Truffaut’s self-reflexivity, unlike so many directors influenced by the French New Wave, is never mechanical and actually increases the empathy the audience feels for his characters rather than distancing them through cold irony.

Like the noirs it homages, Piano Player is a film of doubles, but not merely through the protagonist’s fractured psyche (in this case, Charlie as Edouard born anew).  The scenes and sequences themselves are often doubled as subtext and internal monologues are brought to the surface to play alongside the text itself, either humorously commenting on it or adding to the emotional conflict.  It is a duality embodied in the character’s behavior and actions as the film plays out in short bursts of tender realism only to break away into sheer movie-ness, either behaviorally or through overt stylistic flourishes.  Truffaut’s skill at balancing the real and the cinematic is no more evident than in the various ways he infuses Charlie with genuine humanity despite the reminders that he is only a character.

This is a film that’s alive like few others and Truffaut gives it a sense of whimsy that is matched only by its unrestrained romanticism and sense of danger.  It is full of seemingly infinite possibilities, where a camera can track the protagonist to the apartment he’s visiting only to abandon him and, on a whim, follow the pretty girl who leaves it.  This toying with the position of Charlie in the film occurs throughout and at one point he even steps outside of the on-screen drama to comment on it before dutifully taking his seat behind the piano.  Unlike everyone else, Charlie is tragically aware of his status as movie character, realizing that fate is out of his hands and all he can do is wait for it to play out.  His internal monologues, back-and-forth with the narrator and other such devices are not aimlessly self-referential, but reveal the machinery that makes cinema move without sacrificing any of the magic.  In fact, Truffaut’s bag of tricks, in this his most playful film, helped usher in a whole new brand of magic that we’ve been seeing in the 48 years since this film hit the scene.