Biography: life and films
Love is a powerful thing, perhaps the most powerful force in
nature. This is certainly the impression we get by watching the
films of François Truffaut, the most commercially successful
and best known of the French New Wave directors, whose films
reflect his own personal quest for love after a childhood that was mostly loveless.
It was Truffaut's manic love of cinema, inculcated at an early age, that led him to make a name
for himself as a firebrand critic, and it was the same all consuming
passion that made him one of the world's best loved film
directors. His cinema is unequivocally the cinema of love - selfish
love, life-affirming love, destructive love, morbid love and the
absence of love. "Is the cinema more important than life?" he
once famously asked. Perhaps they are one in the same thing.
François Truffaut was a self-taught genius whose achievements
belie his humble origins. He was born in Paris on the 6th
February 1932 to an unmarried young woman, Jeanine de Monferrand, who
was a secretary on the newspaper
L'Illustration.
He never met his biological father, although he later found out,
through a private detective agency, that he was a Jewish dentist named
Roland Lévy. The stigma of childbirth outside marriage in
the 1930s was such that Jeanine felt she had to keep her pregnancy a
secret. Once François was born, he was placed in the care
of a nurse for the first year of his life, before being handed over to
his maternal grandmother. After the latter's death, the 8-year
boy returned to live with his mother, who had since married Roland
Truffaut, an architect's assistant.
The Man Who Loved Cinema
François was resented by both his mother and his
stepfather. Books and films provided a welcome escape from his
otherwise dull and loveless existence. By 1942, he was already
addicted to cinema. Leaving school in 1946, he earned his keep by
doing odd jobs and, for a time, working as a welder in a factory.
He attended cinema clubs and met the critic André Bazin through
the film initiation society he was involved with. The young
François's burgeoning passion for cinema led him to found his
own film club
Cinémane
in 1948 with his childhood friend Robert Lachenay. The
club rapidly got into debt and Truffaut's adopted father had no qualms
about handing him over to the police. He spent the next five
months in a juvenile detention centre, an episode he poignantly recalls
in the first feature he made,
Les
400 coups. On his release, François was encouraged by
André Bazin to start writing articles about cinema for various
publications.
After his first disappointment in love, Truffaut enlisted in the army
with the intention of getting involved in the conflict in
Indochina. Instead, he was posted to Germany, where he ended up
in a military prison after he extended his leave in Paris without
permission. Again, it was Bazin who came to his aid when he was
demobbed, assuming the role of a mentor and 'père
spirituel'. Under Bazin's tutelage, Truffaut resumed his writing
career and began publishing articles in the Cahiers du cinéma
and Revue Arts. This is how he came into contact with some other
young and controversial critics - Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette,
Claude Chabrol and Éric Rohmer - who, like him, were destined to
become the most prominent French filmmakers of their generation.
In 1954 Truffaut published his most notorious article in the Cahiers du
cinéma. Entitled "Une certaine tendance du cinéma
français" it lambasted the so-called quality tradition of French
cinema and came down in support of what is now known as the auteur
principle, in which the director is the overriding creative force on a
film and not just someone who arranges the furniture in front of the
camera. He was virulent in his criticism of directors
Claude Autant-Lara and Jean Delannoy, whom he regarded as emblematic of
a style of cinema that he considered rigid and stale, and also attacked
screenwriters Jean Aurenche and Pierre Bost for their formulaic
adaptation of classic works of literature, in which a complex written
narrative is clinically reduced to a few dozen dramatic scenes.
Critic Turns Filmmaker
Truffaut's first experience of filmmaking came in 1954 when he made the
short film
Une visite.
He regarded this first effort as a failure and it was never exploited
commercially. Two years later, he was engaged as an assistant to
the great Italian cineaste Roberto Rossellini, who was to be another
important influence on his life. It was around this time that
the future director first met the writer Henri-Pierre Roché and became
interested in adapting his novel
Jules
et Jim, for the cinema. Roché's humanity and
impressionistic style of writing had such an effect on Truffaut that
they would come to define his own style of cinematic expression.
In 1957, Truffaut married Madeleine Morgenstern, whose father owned the
film distribution company Cocinor. The couple would have two
daughters, Laura and Éva, but their marriage lasted only seven
years. With the financial support of his father-in-law, the aspiring filmmaker was
able to found his own film production company, Les Films du Carrosse,
in July 1957, the name taken from Jean Renoir's film
Le
Carrosse d'or. The first film he made for his
fledgling company was a humorous short,
Les
Mistons (1957), which featured Gérard Blain and
Bernadette Lafont, two actors who would soon become closely associated
with the French New Wave.
Then came his feature debut,
Les 400 coups (1959), a film in
which Truffaut drew heavily on his painful early adolescence, in
particular his fraught relationship with his mother and
stepfather. In the film, the man behind the camera is represented on screen by his
alter ego Antoine Doinel, portrayed with an arresting gauche charm and
vitality by 14-year-old Jean-Pierre Léaud. The director saw
something of his earlier self in the temperamental Léaud and
became an adopted father to him, giving him moral and financial support
whilst calling on his services as an actor in several subsequent films,
including the following four instalments of the Antoine Doinel
saga. Attracting an audience in France of 3.6 million,
Les 400 coups was a critical and
commercial success and won the Best Director Prize at Cannes
in 1959. The French New Wave had arrived and Truffaut's idea of
cinema appeared to have been vindicated.
For his sophomore film, Truffaut was guided by his love of American
pulp fiction. Adapted from a crime novel by David Goodis,
Tirez sur le pianiste (1960) is
among the director's most evocative and stylish films, an existential poem
draped in the stark iconography of American film noir. The
censors took exception to the film's violence and slapped an 18
certificate on it, which might partly explain why it ended up
struggling to find an audience. Truffaut followed this first
commercial failure with another by producing and co-directing
Tire-au-flanc,
based on a popular stage play of 1904 which Jean Renoir had
himself adapted back in 1928.
A Pillar of the French New Wave
After these two catastrophic setbacks, Truffaut badly needed another
success if he was to continue as an independent filmmaker and so he
immediately set about realising his much delayed plans to adapt
Henri-Pierre Roché's
Jules et
Jim. This lyrical ode to love and friendship was to be his
masterpiece and its success at the French box office restored not just
his bank balance but also his confidence. One of the most iconic
films of the French New Wave,
Jules et Jim brought
international renown not only to its director, but also to his leading
lady, Jeanne Moreau.
As well as crime fiction, Truffaut was also an avid reader of American
science-fiction and he had for some been minded to adapt Ray Bradbury's
Fahrenheit 451.
He intended bringing this to fruition after completing Antoine Doinel's
second outing in the
Antoine et Colette segment of
the anthology film
L'Amour à
vingt ans (1962), but the opportunity to interview one of his
personal idols, the British director Alfred Hitchcock,
intervened. Truffaut had been one of the first critics to defend
Hitchcock's reputation as a serious auteur, and by interviewing him (in
Los Angeles, over a period of six days) he gained some profound
insights into The Master's technique and philosophy of
filmmaking. Writing up the interviews for publication would be a
labour of love for Truffaut over the next two years, and the book he
created,
Hitchcock: A Definitive
Study of Alfred Hitchcock, soon became an essential text for any
film student or devotee of cinema.
Not yet up to the challenge of making
Fahrenheit
451, the director took time out to make a more modest film which, he
hoped, would help to replenish the dwindling coffers of his film
production company. Somewhat darker in tone than the director's
previous films,
La Peau douce (1964) brings a
Hitchcockian feel to a portrayal of a crumbling marriage and hesitant
adulterous relationship. The film was inspired by its director's own
failing marriage and a brief affair with Marie-France Pisier.
Despite some strong performances from its lead actors, Jean Desailly
and Françoise Dorléac (sister to the then virtually
unknown Catherine Deneuve), this was another flop. Truffaut and
Madeleine Morgenstern's divorce came not long afterwards.
Then, out of the blue, the director received an invitation from the
American producer Lewis Allen to helm
Bonnie
and Clyde. At first, he was excited by the
prospect of making a film in America, but once the reality of what this
entailed hit home he got cold feet and withdrew from the project,
allowing Arthur Penn to take his place and direct what was destined to
be a classic of American cinema.
Fahrenheit
451 seemed to be a far safer bet, even though it was to be
filmed at Pinewood Studios in England and was the director's first attempt
at an English language feature. Terence Stamp was lined up to
play the lead character, maverick 'fireman' Montag, but his commitments
on William Wyler's
The Collector meant that he had
to decline the role. Oskar Werner, now famous for his part in
Jules et Jim, was cast as his
replacement, a decision that Truffaut would soon come to regret.
Werner and the director fell out over how Montag was to be played and this,
coupled with the casting of Julie Christie in a double role,
resulted in acrimony that almost derailed the
production. Bradbury was effusive in his praise for the film but,
on its release in 1966, it received short shrift from the critics
and was not a commercial success. Of all the director's films,
Fahrenheit 451 is the one that has
been mostly wide seen and, whilst flawed in many respects, it has some
incredibly powerful scenes.
Released in France just a few weeks before the tumultuous events of May
1968
La Mariée était en noir proved
to be an unexpected critical and commercal success for a director who
was beginning to think he had lost his touch. With Jeanne Moreau
at her deadliest in a Hitchcockian thriller with black comic
undertones, the film is one of Truffaut's most entertaining, although
it might fit more easily into the oeuvre of his contemporary Claude
Chabrol than his own. It was with renewed confidence that
the director set about
Baisers volés, the third
of his Antoine Doinel films. Despite the fact that the
director's mind was on other matters whilst making the film (helping to
reinstate Henri Langlois as the head of the Cinématèque
francaise for one) the film, a quirky romantic comedy, proved to be a
huge success, both in France and abroad, better known to the English
speaking world as
Stolen Kisses.
In the course of making this film, Truffaut became amorously involved
with Claude Jade, his 16-year-old lead actress. The two intended
to marry but the bridegroom-to-be failed to show up at the wedding ceremony,
although they remained on the best of terms afterwards, with Jade
agreeing to appear in the next two Doinel films.
Its exteriors filmed on the paradisiacal island of Reunion,
La Sirène du Mississipi
is one of the most sumptuous looking of the director's films, and its
principal cast is just as appealing. With two such bankable stars
as Catherine Deneuve and Jean-Paul Belmondo on board the film could
hardly fail to be a hit, but fail it did, thanks to some scathing
reviews from critics who saw little of merit in it. The director was
too besotted with Deneuve, the most beautiful woman in the world, to be
deeply affected by yet another box office let down and their high
profile love affair lasted two years. When the relationship ended
in 1971 Truffaut was devastated.
The Post-Nouvelle Vague Years
Whilst coming to terms with his biggest commercial failure so far,
Truffaut was busy preparing his next film,
L'Enfant
sauvage, inspired by the true story of Dr Jean Itard's
attempts to civilise a boy found living like a wild animal in the
countryside of Aveyron. For the first time, the director took the
lead role and the result is one of his most beguiling films, one that
again reflects on the brutality of childhood and the necessity for
parental love. Despite being filmed on a modest budget in black
and white, it was well received by both the critics and the
public. This success was followed by another,
Domicile conjugale (1970), the
penultimate screen outing for Antoine Doinel.
In the grim aftermath of the break-up of his relationship with
Catherine Deneuve, Truffaut returned to the source that had given him
the subject matter for his greatest film so far, Henri-Pierre
Roché. After
Jules et
Jim, Roché wrote only one more novel,
Les Deux anglaises et le continent,
and, through his close friendship with the author before he died,
Truffaut felt a personal commitment to adapt this for cinema. The
bravest decision he took was to cast Jean-Pierre Léaud,
the star of his Doinel films, in the lead role, alongside two virtually
unknown English actresses, Kika Markham and Stacey Tendeter.
The director's certainty that this was to be his masterpiece was shot down
when the film bombed at the box office amid a barrage of negative
reviews.
The sombre tone of
Les Deux
anglaises et le continent had its counterpoint with the director's
next film, an exuberant black comedy that gave André Dussollier
his first important role in a film and showed Nouvelle Vague diva
Bernadette Lafont at her most wildly entertaining as a girl who just
can't help being bad. Alas, the critics failed to get the joke
and
Une belle fille comme moi was
another box office disaster.
With
La Nuit américaine,
Truffaut made his most ardent declaration of love for
cinema, a humorous but mostly authentic exposé of the perilous
process by which films are made. Again, the director cast himself in
the lead role, a film director coping as best he can with the endless
setbacks that come his way as he attempts to stick to his shooting
schedule. It's a likeable ensemble piece, with some fine support
from Jacqueline Bisset, Jean-Pierre Léaud, Nathalie Baye and an
annoying cat that refuses to take its breakfast on cue. Under the
title
Day for Night, the film
was a big hit in America and won the 1974 Oscar for Best Foreign
Language Film. The sweetness of this success was soured by what
ensued. Immediately after watching the film, Jean-Luc Godard
wrote a letter to Truffaut condemning him for effectively selling out
to commercial cinema. A friendship that had started in
adolescence and had brought about the most dramatic upheaval in French
cinema ended suddenly and irrevocably with two irreconcilable views of
what cinema was meant to be about.
The tragic story of Victor Hugo's daughter was the subject of
the director's next film, a lavishly produced period piece set in Nova
Scotia in the 1860s. 17-year old Isabelle Adjani was an easy
shoe-in for the lead role in
L'Histoire d'Adèle H.,
and her portrayal of a young woman driven to distraction by a
compulsive
amour fou gives
the film an almost visceral emotional power. The film's
production was a challenge, in part because of the need to shoot
two versions in parallel (one in English, one in French), but
also because of Truffaut's romantic involvement with his young
star. The film was only a moderate success and fared better
abroad than it did in France.
By contrast, the director's next film,
L'Argent de poche (1976), was a
great success, with the director happily revisiting his favourite theme
of childhood.
L'Homme qui aimait les femmes
(1977), a dark comedy that doubtless sprang from the director's
obsession with the fair sex, was also well-received by
cinemagoers. In this film, we become aware of the dark mood that
pervades his films from this point on, a sense perhaps of the
director waking up to his own mortality. This impression is felt
far more strongly in the film that came next,
La
Chambre verte (1978). Inspired by a Henry James novel,
this film sees Truffaut playing a strange recluse who is obsessively
attached to the memories of friends that have passed on. The
public did not warm to the film's sepulchral tone and it was another
flop. Then came the director's second sci-fi fling, this time playing
the scientist Lacombe in Steven Spielberg's
genre-defining blockbuster
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
(1977).
A Final Flourish and Tragic Departure
L'Amour en fuite (1979) was a
desperate attempt by Truffaut to make up for his earlier box office
failures, and even though the gamble paid off he regretted making yet
another Antoine Doinel film. Just as
La Nuit américaine had been
conceived as a tribute to cinema,
Le
Dernier métro (1980) was intended to pay homage to
the theatre. Set in Paris at the time of the Nazi occupation, the
film is a bleak but compelling study in personal integrity, in which
loyalties to art, relationships and political beliefs are threatened by
the most destructive force of all, carnal desire. With Catherine
Deneuve and Gérard Depardieu heading an impressive cast the film
was guaranteed to be a hit (in fact it was to be the director's last major
success) and it almost swept the board at the Césars in 1980,
winning awards in ten categories.
The grandeur of
Le Dernier
métro makes a stark contrast with Truffaut's next film,
La Femme d'à côté
(1981). A far more subdued drama, the film encapsulates its
author's pessimistic view of romantic love in the destructive
relationship between a young married wife and the neighbour who is
lured to her like a moth to a flame. Just like the character that
Gérard Depardieu plays in the film, the director was unable to
resist the charms of his lead actress Fanny Ardant and she would become
his partner until the end of his life, bearing him his third child,
Joséphine, in 1983. Ardant took the female lead in
Truffaut's next and final film,
Vivement dimanche! (1982), a
cheeky B-movie parody which owes as much to Hitchcock as it does to
classic American film noir.
After the success of
Vivement
dimanche!, the director had plans for three further films - an
adaptation of Jean de la Varende's historical romance
Nez de cuir; an adolescent drama
entitled
La Petite voleuse
(which ended up being made by his production manager Claude
Miller); and
L'Agence magique,
a film set in the world of the music hall. During the night of
12th August 1983, after spending the day developing ideas for his next
film, Truffaut vomited blood and subsequently experienced severe
headaches. A few days later he was diagnosed with a brain tumour
which required an immediate surgical intervention. Although the
operation was successful, the tumour returned the following year and
ultimately claimed his life, on 21st October 1984, after he had
been admitted to the American Hospital of Paris in
Neuilly-sur-Seine. He was 52. At his request, Truffaut was
cremated at Père-Lachaise crematorium and his ashes presently
reside at Montmartre cemetery in Paris.
Despite his premature death and the fact that he made only 21
full-length films, François Truffaut has had an enormous impact
on cinema, not only entertaining and enlightening successive
generations around the world with his films, but also influencing the
screenwriters and directors that came after him. Like his hero
Hitchcock, he showed that it was possible to be both a dedicated auteur
and a commercially successful filmmaker - the one does not
automatically preclude the other. Truffaut's guiding principle
was that for a film to be successful it must say something about the
world and also something about cinema. In his films, this union
of life and art is achieved with exquisite artistry and we are
impressed as much with the director's understanding of the human condition
as with the beauty of his cinema.
For further information, the reader is strongly encouraged to check out
Antoine de Baecque and Serge Toubiana's beautifully written
and thoroughly researched biography
François Truffaut, published by Gallimard.
© James Travers 2015
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