M. Hulot is not an embarrassment at all, and as a Frenchman in his mid-40s I don't remember ever watching a Jerry Lewis film, let alone laugh at it.
Tati is one of the rare comic film-makers that are told about in philosophy classes and radio programmes, alongside Woody Allen.
Way ahead of his time Tati (who came from a Russian émigré background, an aspect of his culture that must also be considered with Russian famous characters like Oblomov) portrayed mankind and society from an existentialist absurdist point of view that was 180° from the mainstream French comedies of the time that fancied innocent and transparent little characters played by the likes of Bourvil and Fernandel.
You'd have to wait another ten years to see the eccentric Louis de Funès act at his top and well into the 70s to have him dress vitriolic portraits of rich CEOs and businessmen, or an abusive little Spanish lord (yes, De Funès too was of foreign origin, so were Raymond Devos and Coluche, respectively Belgian and Italian, the two greatest stand up comedians of the French stage until the 80s).
You may want to take into consideration that David Lynch considers Les Vacances de M. Hulot as one of his 5 top films list with Hitchcock's Rear Window and Vertigo, Fellini's 8 1/2 and Billy Wilder's Sunset Boulevard.
The work on the soundtrack is just fabulous, like how different scenes are accompanied by the exact same sounds, or ALL the people (including the viewers during the opening credits) listen to the exact same jazzy tune during all the film - until a child who is the next incarnation of M. Hulot puts on another record that plays a much faster swing. The only alternative programmes broadcast on the radio are political speeches and the stock exchange rates.
Tati's film is one step from horror, and this step is miracle. Consider the burial scene for example. The tyre turning into a floral crown is funny, but the circle of mourners shaking hands with a laughing Hulot is quite unnerving and borderline eerie. When Hulot is fixing his car in the middle of the road and the lorry just hardly misses crushing his legs, it's not funny at all.
Then there's the little boy carrying the ice cream cones. Nothing wrong can happen to him, he's protected by God/angels/whatever, or just his own innocence.
Eventually that's Tati's only "message" to his viewers: keep the child in you, try to see your own life from a child's point of view and even awkward situations (the paint bucket carried randomly by the waves) won't prevent you from reaching your goal - ie fail miserably to bring your little boat - that is your life - to any "serious" destination. So enjoy your life, at the end unexpected people will reveal themselves as your friends while those you wanted to make bonds with (like the pretty blonde) will just return to the anonymous crowd in complete indifference.
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