98. Fahrenheit 451

Francois Truffaut, 1961

Based on the book by Ray Bradbury, this is the story of a future fireman who is seduced by the power, the ideas, of the very books which it is his duty to burn. You see, in this future, houses are fireproof, rendering obsolete the traditional role of the fireman. Instead it is the duty of Guy Montag, the main character, played by Oskar Werner, and his fellows to seek out all books and destroy them. In the course of the film, Montag is seduced both by the books and by Clarisse, a young woman whom he befriends and who is herself a renegade reader. The film, of course, begs the question, what would a world be like without books? I know what some of you are thinking: great! Never again will Anne Rice darken our shelves! Yet, we would also miss all the great classics of literature and the ideas within. The film’s, and probably the book’s, I haven’t read it, greatest and most provocative idea is the book people, a group of people living in the woods, memorizing and reciting their one favorite book until the day they die, preserving literature until these dark ages pass. As Truffaut has artfully constructed for us a world without words, the image becomes a dominant force, as it always should in film, but I digress. Except for those words that appear within books, there are no printed words in the film. Indeed, even the credits have been erased, replaced by a deep, somewhat chilling voice over, conducted over a series of the future’s copious TV antennae. There is even a newspaper, consisting entirely of wordless comic strips.

There is one thing that bugs me about this film and that is its denomization of the television. Much like in Orwell’s future, this one seems to carry with it a requirement of a large TV in each house. The monitor is always on and always broadcasting the most banal fluff. Before I continue, I would like to point out that I am no great Truffaut scholar, so I am going to avoid attributing authorial intent regarding this next bit of business, but it does seem to me that one could read a denomination of the television into this film. It is clear that the TV makes mindless drones of those, like Montag’s wife, who spend their lives sitting before it. Of course, the film implicitly praises the printed word and, as a film itself, the filmic image. Indeed, Fahrenheit 451 is artfully shot and directed. The colors are bright and powerful, a striking contrast from the usual future dystopia, and the sound design is terrific. I particularly like the constant use of footfalls throughout the film, heightening the atmosphere of a barely hidden fascist state. Further, the camera work by Nicholas Roeg, who would go on to direct films like The Man Who Fell to Earth, is perfectly understated. Still, while books and films get ample praise, the TV gets the short end of the stick, so to speak.* This is my problem with the film. I am one of those who believe that the televisual image is capable of as much power as the cinematic one. True, there is a great amount of crap on television, but I would quickly remind anyone that for every Fahrenheit 451 to grace our cinemas, there is a Ghost Dad waiting around the corner and television is equally capable of such extremes of crap and greatness (i.e. Veronica’s Closet and Veronica Mars). True, one could make the argument that Fahrenheit 451 depicts a world in which television has been wholly bastardized or simply that Montag’s wife has no taste or even that complicating the telescreen would detract from the film’s largely black and white moral world, but it is still a bit of a thorn in my side, both for this film and in general, and I just thought I’d use this opportunity to get it out there. So there.

But before I go (I know this has gone on a bit) I do want to single out Julie Christie’s double role as both Clarisse and Montag’s wife, Lisa. She’s absolutely phenomenal. So much so, that when I first saw the film, I had to double check a couple of time to see if it really was one actress playing both characters. She plays total opposites and does so perfectly.

*This does make me think that this is probably Truffaut’s intention and not just something I’m reading in as Truffaut himself was both filmmaker and film writer.