Truffaut made so many superb films (and some minor and more forgettable too), but this one succeeds at so many levels that I felt compelled to give it a perfect score. Which I did, and here's why. ****Possible spoilers may below!**** First, Charles Denner, although not your average Casanova as far as looks are considered, displays such a calm intensity, such an obvious sincerity and such a determination in finding that something he is so desperately missing, and which we ultimately get to understand when he meets Véra (Leslie Caron): true love. We do not fall in love - that is total love, love with total and innocent abandon - more than once or twice during our lifetime. It's too painful to survive to a rupture from the loved one, which is why it's such a unique experience and why we don't want to ever go to another cycle of love/rupture of that magnitude. Too risky for one's very survival. And yet, because it's really a single, one-of-a-kind experience that takes the lovers to heaven, because its pleasures are so plentiful and so ecstatic, we think we can find a substitute in another person. As Truffaut's narration goes in fact: since we already found exactly what fulfilled completely our own "heart" (that poorly understood and complex neural center that we still thus call) when we met the object of our true love. There's nothing rational of course in such matters, and nobody else can possibly reunite that purely idiosyncratic combination of body and mind that we met somewhat randomly and that happened to be there when we were ready for ... falling in love.
Truffaut had an exquisite understanding of matters of the heart as abundantly demonstrated by his filmography (from the Antoine Doinel pentalogy to "L'histoire d'Adèle H", without forgetting "Jules et Jim" and "Les deux Anglaises et le Continent". But Charles Denner's character is obviously a much closer alter ego than Jean-Pierre Léaud's (alias Doinel), the latter being rather a charming caricature of Truffaut's own shortcomings. It is now common knowledge that "L'homme qui aimait les femmes" is the most autobiographical film from Truffaut. It was probably quite an intense but transcendental experience for him to write a story so close to his own life story, and such an intimate portrayal may explain why this movie resonates so strongly and so poignantly for the viewer. Well, it did for me at least. Not that I recognized myself in this "tombeur" or "cavaleur" – those are the words that he sometimes uses to describe himself – who is neither a Casanova nor a Don Juan. But mostly because just like Bertrand Morane/Denner/Truffaut, I realize that I tried very hard to find another xxxxx after my affair with her ended but could never really succeed as well as with xxxxx, although I did have many excellent encounters and affairs that enriched my life. Not that the women who followed did not have their unique qualities and attributes: it's just that.... the quest for a replacement for true love is so well depicted in that masterpiece that words will always to convey what is ultimately extremely personal and unique.
The movie would already be successful and superb if it was merely a richly illustrated, somewhat archetypal portrait of a man who has an urge to meet women he meets aimlessly for reasons he cannot specifically formulate but that can be as trivial as the particular effect that the fringe of a dress will have on the silhouette of a woman's legs. But it turns out to be more, much more than simply that. As we gradually find out, Bertrand decides to write about his life experience with women, an exercise that he thinks (more or less consciously, as we realize ultimately) might help him to understand his urge of his and perhaps exorcize himself At some point, he says (as an off voice) something like : "Is it pathological? Am I a poor fellow with a base obsession who just wants to pin down as many women as he can like so many bugs he captures with his intricate stratagems?". An encounter that did not turn out well is the trigger and makes him realize that in fact, he does not understand why he acts in such a way with so many women. As the movie unfolds, the book progresses, but Bertrand meets a few disappointments and even consider abandoning the book when he finally finds an editor who is willing to publish the book. The favorable decision results from the efforts of a woman on the reading committee (luminous Brigitte Fossey) for this publishing house, who enthusiastically advocates his manuscript. When the movie concludes, Truffaut leaves us on this note: "There's a way that all our pleasures and sufferings in the name of love or else will not have been in vain, And we call this..... a book." Although Truffaut did not write fiction in the form of novels (his written oeuvre consists in a few successful essays and a very substantial correspondence), he was an avid reader and a great admirer of literature. How often have we seen films praising what has been ultimately the major source of inspiration of the greatest movies in history, i.e. the written book?
"L'Homme qui aimait les femmes" is an homage to women, to the unique nature of true love and its quest, and to writing as a meaningful vehicle for transcending what would absurdly die with ourselves, as another tool in human quest for eternity of the individual. A masterpiece and to me, the most completely satisfactory movie in Truffaut's filmography.
Truffaut had an exquisite understanding of matters of the heart as abundantly demonstrated by his filmography (from the Antoine Doinel pentalogy to "L'histoire d'Adèle H", without forgetting "Jules et Jim" and "Les deux Anglaises et le Continent". But Charles Denner's character is obviously a much closer alter ego than Jean-Pierre Léaud's (alias Doinel), the latter being rather a charming caricature of Truffaut's own shortcomings. It is now common knowledge that "L'homme qui aimait les femmes" is the most autobiographical film from Truffaut. It was probably quite an intense but transcendental experience for him to write a story so close to his own life story, and such an intimate portrayal may explain why this movie resonates so strongly and so poignantly for the viewer. Well, it did for me at least. Not that I recognized myself in this "tombeur" or "cavaleur" – those are the words that he sometimes uses to describe himself – who is neither a Casanova nor a Don Juan. But mostly because just like Bertrand Morane/Denner/Truffaut, I realize that I tried very hard to find another xxxxx after my affair with her ended but could never really succeed as well as with xxxxx, although I did have many excellent encounters and affairs that enriched my life. Not that the women who followed did not have their unique qualities and attributes: it's just that.... the quest for a replacement for true love is so well depicted in that masterpiece that words will always to convey what is ultimately extremely personal and unique.
The movie would already be successful and superb if it was merely a richly illustrated, somewhat archetypal portrait of a man who has an urge to meet women he meets aimlessly for reasons he cannot specifically formulate but that can be as trivial as the particular effect that the fringe of a dress will have on the silhouette of a woman's legs. But it turns out to be more, much more than simply that. As we gradually find out, Bertrand decides to write about his life experience with women, an exercise that he thinks (more or less consciously, as we realize ultimately) might help him to understand his urge of his and perhaps exorcize himself At some point, he says (as an off voice) something like : "Is it pathological? Am I a poor fellow with a base obsession who just wants to pin down as many women as he can like so many bugs he captures with his intricate stratagems?". An encounter that did not turn out well is the trigger and makes him realize that in fact, he does not understand why he acts in such a way with so many women. As the movie unfolds, the book progresses, but Bertrand meets a few disappointments and even consider abandoning the book when he finally finds an editor who is willing to publish the book. The favorable decision results from the efforts of a woman on the reading committee (luminous Brigitte Fossey) for this publishing house, who enthusiastically advocates his manuscript. When the movie concludes, Truffaut leaves us on this note: "There's a way that all our pleasures and sufferings in the name of love or else will not have been in vain, And we call this..... a book." Although Truffaut did not write fiction in the form of novels (his written oeuvre consists in a few successful essays and a very substantial correspondence), he was an avid reader and a great admirer of literature. How often have we seen films praising what has been ultimately the major source of inspiration of the greatest movies in history, i.e. the written book?
"L'Homme qui aimait les femmes" is an homage to women, to the unique nature of true love and its quest, and to writing as a meaningful vehicle for transcending what would absurdly die with ourselves, as another tool in human quest for eternity of the individual. A masterpiece and to me, the most completely satisfactory movie in Truffaut's filmography.