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The 400 Blows (1959). Wow. How Truffaut brings to life the mundane aspects of a boy's life and turns them into engaging art is mystery to me. This is a heartfelt story about a rambunctious, and potentially artistic, boy without any direction in his life save a rather militant teacher and an accomplice of shenanigans. Forever in trouble, this poor kid takes the avenues of immaturity whenever possible, and these possiblilities are endless. With no role models, lying cheating and stealing become the norm, and we have a child that is scolded for wrong doings but nary advised otherwise. The acting was superb, the cinematography engaging, and the direction incredible. The story itself may have been a little flat, but the story is not really the point here. This classic was absolutely wonderful in ways that really defy description. Ashe.
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Fate is my mistress, mother of the cruel abomination that is hope.
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