Hommage to
Howard Hawks. ...
Francois Truffaut's
In a film as dense with cinematic allusions as Francois ‘Truffaut’s
Day for Night, it is easy to overlook Ferrand’s remark that “shoot-
ing a film is exactly like crossing the Old West in a stagecoach.
At first you hope to have a good trip. But, very soon, you start
wondering if you'll even reach your destination.”! This fanciful
comparison can be regarded as a sign of Ferrand’s totally cine-
matic imagination (what, after all, does he know about crossing
the Old West except what he has seen in American movies?), or it
ean be dismissed as another nouvelle vague inside joke. Yet the
comparison is not entirely fanciful, for Day for Night, which is
about shooting a film, is a kind of Western—at least according to
the definition Truffaut supplies in The Films in My Life: “As in
all good Westerns, we find the structure of an itinerant film;
action-filled daytime scenes alternate with more static nighttime
scenes, which are always convenient for discussions around a camp-
fire, discussions about ideology or feelings.” This is admittedly
a broad definition embracing not only American Westerns but also
Jean Renoir’s La Marseillaise (the context of Truffaut’s definition)
and Day for Night, which alternates between action-filled day-
time scenes (albeit the “action” before a movie camera rather
than the struggle against natural elements or battles with hostile
Indians and outlaws) and more static nighttime scenes in the
hotel where the filmmakers throw parties, exchange intimacies,
face crises, quarrel with each other. Missing from the film is the
geographical sweep of the Western; the company is mostly re-
stricted to the confines of the Victorine Studios in Nice, but
significantly their one outside excursion to film the car stunt
is accompanied by the “‘wagons-ho” theme music associated with
Westerns.
The stagecoach comparison immediately evokes the films of
John Ford, but in the Foreword to the screenplay of Day for
Night Truffaut proposes another filmmaker as a model: “The
movie itself being shot would be the equivalent of the cattle trek
vee72|Day for Night
from Texas to Missouri in Howard Hawks’s beautiful film, Red
River. My movie would also consist of a long crossing, a difficult
journey; and at the end of this trek a real goal would also be at-
tained” (ix). Upon reflection, Hawks is a natural choice because
he represents the filmmaker par excellence to the auteuristic
critics who later became nouvelle vague directors. Indeed, the
politique des auteurs was chiefly responsible for defining Hawks’s
artistic standing in the pantheon of American directors. While
American critics dismissed Hawks as a competent hack, Truffaut,
Rivette and other Cahiers du Cinéma critics noted consistent
stylistic and thematic elements which marked his personal touch
on apparently standardized Hollywood products. It is appropriate,
then, that a study of Hawks should come tumbling out when
Ferrand opens a package of film books devoted mostly to Euro-
pean directors.
In_ pointing out similarities to Red River, Truffaut insists that,
despite the physical confinement, Day for Night is a journey,
a trek. As Molly Haskell has observed, Hawks’s films are also
journeys “even when the locales are stationary.”4 In some of
Hawks’s adventure films the physical journey is replaced by the
goal to be accomplished: winning the race (The Crowd Roars,
Red Line 7000), delivering the mail (Ceiling Zero, Only Angels
Have Wings), destroying the creature from another world (The
Thing), holding a prisoner for the U.S. Marshal (Rio Bravo). In
other films the journey and the goal are both present (Red River,
The Big Sky, Hatari!, Rio Lobo). In Truffaut's film the goal,
which is to complete Meet Pamela, replaces the physical destin-
ation and just as the cattle drive in Red River is diverted from
Missouri to Abilene, Kansas, so too does the shape of Meet Pamela
change to meet changing circumstances, especially the death of
Alexandre. The change is dramatized by the opening and closing
scenes of Day for Night, which show the shooting of the ending
of Meet Pamela, The busy square at the beginning is now mostly
deserted; the season has become winter; instead of slapping his
father, Alphonse will shoot him in the back. Although Ferrand’s
original plan has not been realized, these modifications are signs
not of his defeat but rather his triumph over circumstances, The
goal has been accomplished; Meet Pamela is in the can.
The filmmakers at the Victorine Studios are Truffaut’s version
of the archetypal Hawksian enclave of professionals dedicated to
a common goal, who must battle not only external forces (the
destruction of the dailies during a power failure at the lab) but also
internal conflicts which threaten the production (Severine’s
alcoholism, Julie’s emotional instability, Alphonse’s jealousy.)
As in Hawks, characters are aligned and judged according to their
dedication to the task. In fact, Truffaut’s characters parallel
closely some of the character types found in Hawks’s films.
Liliane, for example, is the outsider who cannot be integrated
into the group. Very often in Hawks this character is a woman
who disrupts the equilibrium of the group because of her eroticDay for Night/73
attraction. The offscreen love interest dividing Neil Hamilton and
Richard Barthelmess in Dawn Patrol is one example of such a
figure; Zita Johan in Tiger Shark and Miriam Hopkins in Barbary
Coast are onscreen variations of the same type. In Hawks these
disruptive influences are acceptable only when they devote them-
selves to the professional standards and goals of the group. Liliane,
however, has no professional dedication to the company or to her
job, which she has obtained through Alphonse’s influence. She
tires as quickly of Alphonse as she does of her job, flirting with
the still photographer and eventually running off with the stunt-
man. Fortunately, her position is not so important that the en-
tire production is placed in jeopardy, but her betrayal of the
group is judged by Joelle, the supreme professional, who says,‘‘I
might leave a guy for a film—but I’d never leave a film for a guy”
(125).
Liliane’s departure has a more serious effect on Alphonse, who
represents what Robin Wood has termed “‘the lure of irresponsi-
bility,”” which he finds chiefly in Hawks’s comedies but also in
Scarface—the temptation to abandon adult responsiblity and re-
gress to childish dependence. Throughout the film Alphonse is
referred to as a child. For example, before she leaves Liliane
says, “He’s a moody child, completely spoiled, and he will never
be a man” (122). And after he has abandoned the production
he is found on a go-cart track, an appropriately scaled-down version
of the Hawksian arena for separating the men from the boys in
The Crowd Roars and Red Line 7000. In order to become a man,
Alphonse must throw off his selfishness and submit himself
to professional discipline. In short, he must do his job. “People
like us are happy only in our work, you must realize that,”
Ferrand tells him (135), a sentiment echoed shortly afterward
by Julie, who says, ‘“You must remain here and finish your work”
(137). Eventually, Alphonse takes this advice and retums to the
production. Although we may not be convinced that Alphonse
has at last put away the things of a child, he has at least taken
the first step toward growing up.
In Julie Baker Truffaut creates another familiar Hawksian
character, the disgraced professional who is given a second chance
for redemption. Richard Barthelmess in Only Angels Have Wings,
Dean Martin in Rio Bravo and Robert Mitchum in HI Dorado
are only a few examples of this figure in Hawks’s work. Julie’s
disgrace is that she walked away from a film two years before
during a personal crisis resulting in a nervous breakdown. Like
Alphonse. she is crucial to the production. Indeed, she is liter-
ally irreplaceable since the insurance company will not cover her
because of her past. As the producer puts it early in the film,
“Tf she doesn’t finish our film, we'll be up shit creek without a
paddle’’ (46). Given this background, Julie’s efforts to keep first
Liliane and then Alphonse in the company are genuinely heroic.
She even sleeps with Alphonse to keep him on the film, a sac-
rifice which redounds against her when Alphonse calls her hus-‘14[Day for Night
band to demand that he set her free. Fearing the loss of the
man who tried to make her into a “responsible woman” (151),
as she puts it, Julie locks herself in her dressing room and in-
explicably demands tub butter. To her credit, Julie finds the
inner strength to surmount this crisis and go on with her work.
She asks the forgiveness of the company saying, “I realize I’m
not acting like a professional” (151). Significantly, she makes
this decision on her own before her husband arrives on the set,
demonstrating her independence as well as her sense of respon-
sibility.
Truffaut casts himself to play the Hawksian hero who over-
comes both external and internal obstacles and directs the group
toward its goal. In this respect, Ferrand joins the company of
Cary Grant in Only Angels Have Wings, Montgomery Clift in
Red River and John Wayne in Rio Bravo, El Dorado and Rio
Lobo, ‘‘The Hawks hero,” writes V.F. Perkins, “does what he
can with the materials at his disposal.’ In other words, he im-
provises and Ferrand is “famous for improvising” (68). This
talent allows Ferrand to reshape his film to meet changing
circumstances, incorporating the accidents befalling the production
into his design, whether it be finding a way to disguise Stacey’s
pregnancy or revising the ending of Meet Pamela to complete the
shooting. There are limits to his ability, however. Ferrand will
not make Stacey’s pregnancy part of the plot nor will he insist
on the fancy-dress ball sequence when it cannot be shot without
Alexandre’s close-ups. This, too, is a characteristic of Hawks’s
heroes, who “are constantly testing their abilities, and, particular-
ly, their limitations. They have to see how far they can impose
their own terms on nature and on life.”6
The Hawksian hero is eminently practical and Truffaut dwells
on the many decisions Ferrand makes, whether it be choosing the
gun Alphonse will use or eliminating the fancy-dress ball sequence.
To underline his point, Truffaut rigorously restricts the scope of
Day for Night to the shooting of a film; there is no mention of
preparing a film or of post-production work. Indeed, we never
see an assembly of the footage, although the scene where Ferrand
indicates with his fingers where to cut the car stunt footage comes
close. In his own way, then, Ferrand is a man of action; he con-
fronts problems as they come, resolving questions of how to do
his job and not inquiring why it should be done. Truffaut himself
sees filmmaking in the same terms: “The preparation (of a film)
is the most onerous part. Fellini has shown this magnificently
in 8%. During this phase you feel like an imposter because you
have to resolve many questions which don’t have answers yet.
During the shooting you find yourself confronted with concrete
problems that you can solve practically.”” For Truffaut, then,
the film artist is inevitably a man of action, for only by resolving
the concrete problems facing him does he prove his mettle.
By playing Ferrand himself, Truffaut narrows the gap be-
tween art and life, giving the film a personal aspect it might not
have otherwise. The effect is doubled by the casting of Jean-Day for Night/75
Pierre Leaud, who has played Truffaut’s alter-ego, Antoine Doinel,
as Alphonse. Alphonse embodies all of the qualities of Antoine
Doinel in their least attractive aspect; certainly Leaud has never
seemed more petulant and childish than in this film. Ferrand’s
urging Alphonse to grow up, to do his job, to accept responsi-
bility, can thus be seen as a kind of auto-critique of Truffaut’s
early career when he concentrated on youthful, spontaneous,
rebellious characters. As he has grown older, Truffaut has begun
to emphasize more adult values similar to the ethos of Howard
Hawks. In fact, he has taken to playing these adult roles him-
self—as Dr. Itard in The Wild Child and the Jamesian ar«ist in his
most recent film, The Green Room, It is significant that, one sign
of Alphonse’s immaturity is that he would rather watch films than
eat, while Ferrand goes ahead and makes films. Like Hawks, the
mature Truffaut prefers the participants over the bystanders.
Action is the important thing.
Besides these specific parallels, Day for Night reveals that
Truffaut and Hawks share a larger area of agreement—they both
work within the conventions of classical Hollywood cinema. In
brief, classical construction implies a commitment to storytelling,
to linear narrative. Using the star system, studio style encourages
the naive belief that what happens on the screen is “real,” an
effect produced through an unobtrusive camera style and so-
called “invisible” editing. Having made most of his films during
the heyday of the Hollywood studios, Hawks had little choice
but to adopt prevailing conventions, but there is evidence that the
studio style suited his temperament. On many occasions he has
said that a director is a storyteller and he has complained more
than once that “‘in some of today’s pictures you don’t know where
you are, who’s talking, or anything, and that’s why they’ve got
motion pictures lying around over in Hollywood that they can’t
make head or tail out of.”8 A sign of Hawks’s concen for story
values is his involvement in preparing the scripts for his films, even
those for which he received no story credit. In some respects,
Hawks is more classic than classical construction: his narratives
are severely linear to the exclusion of flashbacks; his camera
work is not only unobtrusive but it is usually placed at eye level
so as not to distract from the action.
In his study of Truffaut Don Allen writes: ‘With rare ex-
ceptions his films are ‘well made’ and tell a story. His emphasis
tends to be on narrative and character study.”® In Day for Night
Truffaut dramatizes his emphasis on narrative in the scene where
Ferrand and Joelle write dialogue for the next day’s shooting
of Meet Pamela. Their main concerns are setting and character--
Hawks’s where you are and who’s talking. When Joelle wonders
why the scene takes place in the kitchen, Ferrand explains that
“we have to avoid anything suspicious at all costs” (96). Later
Joelle objects to the line “I think so” because “Pamela isn’t
vague. She must be certain by this time that she’s in love with
her father-in-law” (96). These details have to be worked out to76/Day for Night
promote audience identification—as Joelle says, “‘It’s absolutely
necessary that the audience understandsher feelings’(97).
Although his visual style is less severe than Hawk’s, Truffaut’s
stylistic pyrotechnics are not very distracting because they are
subordinated to a story line. His effects are usually nothing more
than the revival of cinematic conventions, like the iris shot, which
have fallen out of fashion and which he sometimes employs in
unexpected contexts. His frequent references to other films are
meant to be affectionate homages to past masters and not devices
designed to make the audience conscious of the codes by which
filmmakers construct their meaning. Because they resemble Holly-
wood products so closely, Truffaut's films have been more popular
and accessible to American audiences than the more radical
experiments of Jean-Luc Godard and Jacques Rivette. And Holly-
wood, which has a way of recognizing one of its own, has rewarded
Truffaut by giving Day for Night the Academy Award as Best
Foreign Film of 1973.
The French title of the film, La Nuit americaine, not only
denotes the photographic process of shooting nighttime scenes
during the day, but also suggests the twilight of American dom-
inance of the cinema. “Along with Alexandre,” Ferrand says,
“a whole era of moviemaking is fast disappearing. Films will
soon be shot in the streets—without stars, without scripts. A
production like Meet Pamela will soon be obsolete” (161). The
old Hollywood may be dead but its influence still lives in Truffaut.
Day for Night is his tribute to the American cinema—thus the
“Western” structure, the dedication to Lillian and Dorothy Gish,
and the homage to the pre-eminent American director, Howard
Hawks.
Wayne J. Douglass
Notes
1 Francois Truffaut, Day for Night, trans. Sam Flores (New York: Grove
Press, 1975), p. 35. Subsequent references are given in the text.
2 Trans, Leonard Mayhew (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1978), p. 40.
3 Hawks is, in fact, the only native American director in the group, The
rest were born in Europe: Carl Dreyer, Ernst Lubitsch, Ingmar Bergman,
Jean-Luc Godard, Alfred Hitchcock, Roberto Rossellini, Robert Bresson,
Luis Bufluel and Luchino Visconti. Lubitsch and Hitchcock, of course, had
lengthy Hollywood careers.
4 “Howard Hawks Masculine Feminine,” Film Comment, 10 No.
2(1974), 34.
5 “Hatari!” in Movie Reader, ed. Ian Cameron (New York: Praeger,
1972), p. 63.
6 Ipid., p. 63.Day for Night/77
7 «Frangois T.,” L’Express, 13-19 Mars, 1978, p. 84. My translation.
Even here Truffaut seems to be echoing Hawks. In a Cahiers du Cinéma
interview conducted by Truffaut, Jacquest Becker and Jacques Rivette Hawks
says: “The difficult work is the preparation: finding the story, deciding how
to tell it, what to show and what not to show. Once you begin shooting you
see everything in the best light, develop certain details, and improve the
whole,” The interview is in Andrew Sarris, ed., Interviews with Film Directors
(New York: Avon Books, 1969), p. 234.
8 “A Discussion with the Audience of the 1970 Chicago Film Festival,”
in Joseph McBride, ed., Focus on Howard Hawks (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.:
Prentice-Hall, 1972), p. 25. Hawks expresses a similar complaint in Richard
Schickel, The Men Who Made the Movies (New York: Atheneum, 1975),
p. 127. Hawks’s opinion that directors are storytellers can be found in Saris,
p. 231; McBride, p. 25; Schickel, p. 127.
9 Truffaut (New York: Viking, 1974), p. 9.
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