Le Père Noël a les yeux bleus [Santa Claus Has Blue Eyes] (1966)

This is one of those times the lack of a film studies background is especially palpable. This 47-minute black-and-white film was made by French New Wave auteur Jean Eustache, who Wikipedia assures me was an incredibly important figure in both the movement and film history as a whole. Since my background on French New Wave more or less begins and ends with the only other Christmas movie I've found from that subgenre, I won't have much to say about how it fits in. But the holiday setting, on the other hand, is something I've got some experience with, so - as always in these situations - please take any non-yuletide opinions or interpretations I express with a few extra grains of salt.

The movie is set in a small French city and tells the story of a young man attempting (and failing) to navigate adulthood and women. The narrator and main character is Daniel (played by Jean-Pierre Léaud, who Wikipedia informs me is also damn important to French cinema). He scrapes by as a petty thief and by earning money through various temporary jobs, such as the one alluded to in the title.

Let's back up, because we haven't gotten to the stakes yet. The principal thing Daniel is after is a duffle coat, which he perceives as stylish. He believes having one will improve his situation and self-image, though (spoiler alert) at the end we learn better. To get the money he needs, he takes a part-time job as a Papa Noel standing outside a store and having pictures taken with kids and others.

Side note time. The movie's English title and translation uses the more familiar Santa Claus instead of the actual character. The costumes are similar enough to work, of course, but the figures are not identical and in my opinion the translations should be updated.

Regardless, he quickly discovers that he's more appealing to women, who generally want nothing to do with him. As he disappears into the suit, people find him more approachable. It's an idea that's been explained with his American counterpart in a few recent documentaries, but this of course takes it in a very different direction, as Daniel is mainly excited women don't object when he touches them.

One, in particular, becomes obsessed with knowing who's under the mask, a fact he exploits to convince her to meet him later. When he reveals his identity, he discovers she's disappointed - whatever the costume does to assist him doesn't address the underlying problems with him. At any rate, he tries to make out with the woman, who pushes him away. The scene is unpleasant, and Daniel's "persistence" would now be described as assault (though, for what it's worth, he does take "no" for an answer). He also comes off as pathetic through the whole thing - he's not a sympathetic character - but the movie doesn't interrogate the incident any further.

After that, the job loses its luster, as he's learned that the ephemeral, superficial effect of the Papa Noel suit doesn't change who he is underneath. It's a lesson he does not extend to the desired duffle coat, however, as he still buys it right after Christmas. But of course, it's the same thing: his problem was never lacking a coat, so it can't actually help him. He gets an inkling of this when a friend who'd also been planning on getting a similar coat abandons the idea on the grounds that the style is about to change, anyway. Then, on New Year's Eve, Daniel discovers he's embarrassed after removing the coat to discover he's the only one without a suit. Later, he appears in silhouette with his hood up and the coat resembles the shape of his Papa Noel outfit, in case anyone hadn't already connected those dots.  

The movie ends while he marches down a street adorned with Christmas lights while drunk with other young men chanting, "To the brothel!" I assume the juxtaposition is pretty obvious.

So, what's the point? Well, once again trusting in Wikipedia, Eustache is widely thought to have based his work on his life, though the degree of similarity is apparently unclear. Assuming this was in some way inspired by his life, the movie comes across as a darkly honest look at a generation coming of age in the midst of economic hardship. Or at least that's my interpretation: again, '60s French cinema ain't my area of expertise.

Let's talk more about the ways the holidays are used, because even at 47 minutes there's a lot to explore here. First, it's interesting to me that the holiday season depicted so closely mirrors that in the U.S. Decorations appear throughout the city, and the timeline implies they were up in late November. I'm not an expert on the holiday customs of France in the 1960s, but they certainly seem more recognizable than I'd have expected.

And speaking of those decorations, the movie largely showcases them in a commercial context. While there are some lights in public areas, the bulk of what we're shown are in businesses. It's not hard to read themes around the commodification of the holidays in the imagery. Beyond that, everyone has a sparse, bleak appearance: there's no snow, so everything looks dead and barren. I assume this was supposed to tie to the economic themes, though - seeing as this was clearly shot on location and presumably on a tight budget - it may just have been how everything looked when they needed to film.

Overall, this is clearly a well-made movie. The cinematography is effective, Léaud gives a great performance, and the tone comes through. That said, I certainly wouldn't recommend this to anyone without an existing interest in French New Wave. Between the disturbing sequence where Daniel forces a woman to kiss him (and several other times he's pushy with women), it's going to understandably repulse modern viewers. On top of that, the pace can drag, so if you're not on board with the tone and sense of ennui permeating the film, you're liable to find the whole thing a bit tedious.

Again, none of that is meant to suggest this is badly made - the opposite is the case - only that the movie isn't going to appeal to most viewers not already invested in the era this comes from.