A man goes on vacation at the french seaside, resulting in slapstick in this classic French comedy.
Like a lazy summer day, little of importance happens in M. Hulot's Holiday. An open door causes a stiff breeze to blow pouring tea into a different cup. An inner tube covered in leaves is mistaken as a funeral wreath. And the titular character of the story goes to the beach, or goes for a drive, or dodges cars, resulting in one misadventure after another. Utilizing sight gags and little dialogue, M. Hulot's Holiday is hardly a laugh riot. Instead, it's a dry, nearly continuous stream of minor jokes. However, its influence is easily seen in the films of Monty Python and Woody Allen.
I wish I could say I was floored by M. Hulot's Holiday. It was a pleasant diversion, but an easily forgotten one.
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