“Making a film is like a stagecoach ride in the old west. When you start, you are hoping for a pleasant trip. By the halfway point, you just hope to survive”

These words are spoken by the character of Ferrand, the central character of François Truffaut’s gorgeous film, Day for Night (French: La Nuit américaine). Ferrand is a film director working on a lurid melodrama known as Je Vous Présente Paméla, with the film chronicling the production, and the various difficulties that come with it. Difficult performers, all of which come from different walks of life and demand varying amounts of attention, on-set scandals that threaten to derail the film and the looming threat that the production will fall apart somehow, whether through financing problems or scheduling conflicts asserted onto a film that is already on the precipice of disintegrating. Whether it be the presence of a beloved veteran who demands better and meets a grisly end (Jean-Pierre Aumont), an over-the-top diva who shows nothing but disdain for appearing in a film she perceives as being far below her standards (Valentina Cortese ), a pretentious but well-meaning lothario (Jean-Pierre Léaud) or a young British ingenue trying to find her way through the perils of the European arthouse (Jacqueline Bisset), or the countless other individual involved in the film, those behind the camera have a lot to deal with. Ferrand does his very best to balance everything, but when it becomes clear that art is starting to imitate reality (or could it be the other way around?), he realizes there is nothing much he can actually do to prevent the film from heading in whichever direction destiny sets out for it, and the best thing to do is just take the challenges as they come.

Day for Night is a work of incredible metafictional film, a deconstruction of the very notion of filmmaking and the creative process as a whole. It’s a layered work, and one brimming with meaning and interpretations. The storyline underpinning the film is made even more fascinating when we consider that the role of Ferrand, the long-suffering director of the film-within-a-film, is played by François Truffaut himself, occupying the core role of a man just trying to make a film. We can read into his reasons behind making this film, as well as his decision to cast himself in a role that could not be anything other than autobiographical. Yet, that would imply that Day for Night is a work of vanity, whereby the director is commenting on his own creative process and demonstrating himself as being some cinematic martyr. This is obviously not the case, and unlike some of his Nouvelle Vague colleagues (one in particular, who shall remain nameless), Truffaut was more concerned with cinema as a whole, rather than proposing himself as the next cinematic revolutionary. This fact is abundantly clear in this film, which is certainly one of his finest achievements, and an exceptional piece of postmodern artistry that proves to be the work of a director fully in command of his craft.

Throughout Day for Night, Truffaut presents us with a bilateral story, with the film taking on two very different forms. Set on the lavish film set for a high-budget romantic drama, where Truffaut’s character is trying desperately to keep everything on track, we are confronted with a duality of concepts – the first is fiendishly artificial melodrama, with the film taking on a sense of heightened  histrionics – people fall in love, experience heartbreak, and in some instances even die. The situation surrounding the film-withing-a-film starts to mirror the actual plot, as Truffaut presents us with a melodrama akin to a soap opera, with deceit and manipulation not only being common but encouraged. In this regard, Day for Night provides a fascinating commentary on the nature of art, and how the product can sometimes tend to mirror reality. It isn’t ever necessarily subtle, nor is it particularly realistic (yet, realism seems to be the most distant of priorities for Truffaut, as his intentions supersede anything logical), but it does make a profoundly interesting statement on how art is often a product of the situation around it, and that there is rarely anything that is entirely original – everything is derived from some source, whether artistic or otherwise. It even becomes a point where one of the main characters perishes in an unfortunate accident, and instead of mourning him, everyone involved in the film simply tries to find a way to get around his demise – even when confronting some cautious material, Day for Night reiterates the adage that the show must go on.

Truffaut assembles quite an impressive ensemble for Day for Night, with the cast being populated by a multinational set of performers, all of which are given some really terrific moments of their own. Jacqueline Bisset is luminous as the quiet Julie Baker, who is doing her best to move past an unfortunate nervous breakdown, hoping to revive her career in Europe (everyone in Day for Night seems to be past the point of searching for stardom, all of them hoping for just the momentary glory of some acclaim), and often works alongside New Wave icon Jean-Pierre Léaud, who once again proves himself to be one of the most gifted French actors of his generation, abandoning his genial charm for the sake of playing someone far less likeable. The best performance in the film comes on behalf of the Italian screen veteran, Valentina Cortese, who steals every scene as Séverine, the world-renowned diva who has had to resort to starring in a middling melodrama just to keep her career afloat, just to avoid fading into obscurity in an industry where the older one gets, the less opportunities they have (which of course does not apply to Alexandre, played by Jean-Pierre Aumont, who is portrayed as a Renaissance man of film, and someone who only grows better with age). Day for Night is a film that provokes certain thematic concepts without actually explaining them or subjecting them to exposition – this isn’t a film that wants to preach or reveal the injustices underlying a film set, but rather to show how the industry operates. The actors do very well in interpreting the story and bring it to life (even Truffaut proves himself to be capable of a very good performance playing the scatter-brained director), and whether operating individually or as a part of the broader ensemble, everyone is on top form, delivering exceptional performances that work in the context of the film.

Very often, the people involved in the film refer to Je Vous Présente Paméla as a tragedy – it is very clear the film that they are making is anything close to being well-constructed enough to qualify for such a bold declaration – yet it isn’t the film that’s the tragedy, but the situations surrounding it that are. Truffaut adored cinema – he was one of the Nouvelle Vague’s most significant cinephiles, and throughout his career, he played around with different stories and tried numerous artistic forms. Day for Night is the realization of his ambition to make a film about the making of a film – perhaps unimpressive by modern standards, Truffaut’s idea came at a time when cinema was not nearly as personal or intimate as it is now, and still retained a certain mystique – to question the reality of what we were seeing on screen was taboo. There had been very few films that explicitly focused on the making of a film (which shouldn’t be mistaken for films about Hollywood, of which there were many), where the main storyline focuses on the trials and tribulations of a film set. Fassbinder did it well in Beware of a Holy Whore a few years prior, but Truffaut perfected it, delivering an ambitious and bold film that serves as an insightful representation of the filmmaking process, and more than anything else, as an exuberant celebration of cinema.

Day for Night is a terrific film – it isn’t particularly conspicuous, and it often underplays moments that could’ve so easily fallen victim to excess in the hands of a director who didn’t realize the best way to deliver a story like this is through subdued, simple means. Truffaut exercises admirable restraint, and rather allows the story to unfold through presenting it as a series of episodic moments in the lives of a motley crew of people in the film industry. There have been few films that have been as ardent in celebrating the art of filmmaking (not necessarily only the movies themselves, but the process) as this film, and Truffaut shows himself to not be someone who stagnated on one concept but was willing to explore anything that stirred his curiosity. Day for Night is a tremendous film – often deliciously dramatic and outrageously funny, it is a revolutionary film, blurring genres, conventions and even the boundaries between fiction and reality in a way that is entertaining rather than impenetrable. Ultimately just a refreshingly easygoing film about the artistic process and the pitfalls of cinematic artistry, it is genuinely moving and heartfelt, and finds a great deal of soul in an otherwise enigmatic but beloved industry.