Any opportunity to mention François Truffaut is a good one to seize. Even the fortieth anniversary of his disappearance, which occurred on October 21, 1984. From the mourning felt, Éric Neuhoff three years later drew a Open letter to François Truffaut. The reviewer was in black. It reappears today with a preface where the author wishes to inform the deceased of the changes that occurred in his absence: “French cinema, you know, has become a den of gendarmes and blue stockings. You have escaped the Césars where ladies appear naked with Tampax as earrings. »
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“It’s been a long time since publishers stopped going to the cinema. They don't even have time not to read anymore.”
For the rest, the text continues to distinguish itself from the agreed tributes by its supreme freedom: “This letter zigzags. For Madame de Sévigné, we will come back. I improvise as I go along. » But unlike the people spun by Antoine Doinel in Stolen kissesNeuhoff never confuses the reader, the pure pleasure of following him through his memories and his anecdotes, his considerations on the seventh art and his rants: “It’s been a long time since publishers stopped going to the cinema. They don't even have time not to read anymore. » And even his digressions which are not really digressions, since he never loses sight of the subject. The devil is in the details, and so is cinema.
Truffaut or nothing
The eye was in the dark room and looked at François. Noted the presence of a character in the background, noted the color of a sky or the material of a tie, found confirmation that the shape of a city changes more quickly, alas, than the heart of a mortal, especially when it stopped beating – “If that’s true, you wouldn’t recognize Paris. The Place de Clichy, which had no secrets for you, would be a foreign land. » No idolatry in these pages, Adele H. or even The Green Roomin other words the director's serious films, “barb fiercely” our movie buff.
The Revolution is a bloc, not the work of Truffaut. No jargon, no sociology, it is a question of real-life films, of the way in which they mingle with the fabric of our existences of the third type, between reality and fiction, of the way in which, once the lights are turned back on, their characters continue to speak and act through us. Of a life path found in the darkness of projections: “Be Truffaut or nothing, this slogan seemed appropriate to us. Time has passed. We ended up being ourselves. » As relevant to celebrate Truffaut with a retrospective of his filmography as here with literature.
A good book is reread
The man who loved women, as we know, was also the man who loved books. We will recommend this Open letter to François Truffaut both to the most fervent Truffaldians and to those who are unaware of Antoine Doinel's double. We will also recommend it to readers of its first edition. A good book is reread like a good film is rewatched, that's even how we recognize them.
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Open letter to François Truffaut, by Éric Neuhoff, published by Albin Michel. 144 pages, 15 euros.
