Baseshment I like movies that are aware of what they are selling... without [any] greater aspirations than to make people laugh and that's it.

Helllins It is both painfully honest and laugh-out-loud funny at the same time.

filippaberry84 I think this is a new genre that they're all sort of working their way through it and haven't got all the kinks worked out yet but it's a genre that works for me.

Usamah Harvey The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

framptonhollis Why do we love the movies?This is a question that has been pondered by many, and it does deserve quite a bit of contemplation. Personally, I have come to the conclusion that all of the possible answers that lie beneath this general question can be found in Francois Truffaut's nouvelle vague masterpiece "Shoot the Piano Player".Its a silly and sad dance of despair and darkness through criminal underworlds, tragic pasts, and witty gags. There's also plenty of thrills, chills, loves, and laughs for an entire film festival. Jumbling all of these emotions into a single film sounds like a difficult task, but Truffaut is a master of his craft and understands how to make this tragicomic thriller really work. Using many of the most playful cinematic techniques he could muster, he guides the audience through the strange and, at times, borderline surreal world of "Shoot the Piano Player", a film that bursts with romance, humor, and melancholy. Its realistic and fantastic, funny and sad. All of those who love the movies must see it immediately !

sharky_55 After the elaborate success of his debut Truffaut went into this film seeking to subvert and play with the noir archetypes, the Hollywood B-movies with the jaded, rough edged leading men, the despicable criminals, the sultry femme fatales. So the film shifts from the jaunty opening piano tune to a dizzying night-time chase; smash cuts push the headlights up into the running man, which then suddenly switches to a mundane conversation about the challenges of married life. There are no clear cut rules or boundaries here as the French New Wave dictates, so clichés get turned on their head. Charlie and Lena get picked up in broad daylight and driven to god- knows-where, but the conversation inexplicably turns into a humorous matter-of-fact spiel about the perils and madness of the women in their lives. See how Truffaut shoots this scene; the camera free-flowing and hand-held, capturing their giggles and jokes as if this was not a threatening kidnapping but rather young students on a summer road-trip. In Aznavour we have a timid, almost cowering leading man. He plays his cheerful piano at the local dive whilst the patrons dance away during the night of their lives and his face is curled up in the background, forlorn and miserable. This composition is not withdrawn and broody as it should be; in fact the humour comes from the irony and almost bizarre, slapstick contrast it creates. We see it again in the closing shots. Opposing this feeble lead are strong female characters; not ones that abuse and flaunt their sexuality, but thoughtful, vulnerable women who see past convention and are not so easily wooed. The most genuine and startlingly funny scene is Charlie attempting the simple act of trying to hold Lena's hand. This little action is ballooned up in his thoughts - he extrapolates everything and panics over the slightest reaction. His intrusive, gun-shy thoughts are not unlike our own - slowly weeding its way into our insecurities and making a big deal out of nothing. And then it is not anything he does, but rather the sheer physical embarrassment on his face that opens the floodgates and smiles. Another notable scene is his nervousness in pushing the bell to the door of the audition; Truffaut pushes into closeup more and more with each successive edit, then abruptly cuts to a wide shot of the hallway, showing just how tiny and insignificant he is. He shrinks instead of rising to the challenge. Would a noir ever apply this cut to its protagonist? What a cosmic farce Charlie lives in. He shows not the least amount of interest in the criminal affairs that he is nevertheless dragged in because of his family. The genre morphing from Truffaut has led him to become thoroughly confused about what sort of man he is and what sort of man he should be. Instead of comforting his despairing wife like his good nature tells (nags incessantly, more like) him to, he runs away coldly like a noir hero might, buffeted by his troubling thoughts. And he drags Lena back into the underground, and gets her killed in a meaningless affair. Nothing ever seems to fit nicely. The kidnappers again descend into comical nonsense as they debate many trivialities with the young Fido who should be terrified. Tinkling, light music invades the dark, grim night-scapes. Charlie is left once again to play his cheerful tunes. His face is etched in regret; how could he have gone wrong?

Atreyu_II After the great 'The 400 Blows', Monsieur Truffaut made this cool film with a peculiar title - a title which, by the way, I like. Curiously, the pianist is portrayed by a real-life musician: the great Charles Aznavour. However, the rest of the cast is about as great when it comes to acting abilities.Despite the title, there is really very little of action. But hey, you can't expect a movie this old to have "exciting" levels of action like the modern movies. This is "old-school" action, when action was limited but authentic and even the noises were realistic, nothing to do with the almost deafening sounds of nowadays. Who needs those excesses? Deep down, this classic isn't limited to just one genre, being a successful but modest combination of different genres which works. Besides, few movies transform tense scenes into humorous scenes the way this does.I really like the beating of the piano melody by Georges Delerue. Cinematography is quite decent and permits us to appreciate french streets and other places, a Truffaut specialty. I consider this one of Truffaut's best films, after 'The 400 Blows' and 'The Wild Child', and better than the interesting but flawed 'Jules et Jim'.This should definitely be on Top 250.

Michael Neumann One of the more notable hallmarks of French New Wave filmmakers was their willingness to try anything once, allowing for a sometimes exhilarating freedom of expression, which even in its search for new forms never failed to proclaim its affection for the old. François Truffaut's effervescent second feature is a case in point, owing its existence to the American B-movie tradition of earlier decades. Truffaut borrowed time-tested Hollywood formulas to create, in essence, little more than a quick, romantic third-person daydream of good guys and not-so-good guys, sketched with tentative charm and irreverence. The translation was (and still is) refreshing, despite (and in large part because of) its disjointed, half-mocking melancholy. The film simply shrugs its shoulders in the face of tragedy with the same Gallic fatalism as its world-weary anti-hero, pianist Charles Aznavour, hiding out from life and love in a small, smoke-filled café until the unexpected arrival of his brother, with a pair of gangsters in hot pursuit.