Piazza della repubblica

A voice-over explains: "The concept was simple: with camera and microphone in plain view, we struck up conversations with passers-by." The French word used is "des inconnus"— "unknown people"— which can have the sense of "strangers," "mere nobodies," or even the mathematical concept of "an unknown quantity." At another point the film makers tell one person, "It's about people in the street." Early in the film an older lady, retired, with a son and granddaughter, and "very happy," is astonished that the film makers are attempting to make a film without actors playing roles or to make a documentary without commentary. The film makers point out that she herself is at that moment providing the commentary. She seems delighted at the realization.

What follows for one and a half hours is about thirty-five encounters filmed over a fifteen-day period— a diverse range of people, many of whom willingly tell about their background, and some of whom discuss the very basis of their outlook on life. Some are decidedly odd. Many mention or give accounts of experiencing profound loss (some very recent), hardship, difficulty, or discomfort. Yet everyone is carrying on— some a little pathetically,— some gallantly, even beautifully. Some, whose personal situation might make a pitiful character in a fiction, are absolutely charming. All have dignity. All describe themselves as resigned, accepting, content, and even quite happy.

The film ends with a second encounter with a talkative woman pushing a bicycle. Her long and rambling story draws small crowds, and would seemingly have continued indefinitely if the film makers had been able to keep up with her on her bicycle. She rides beyond their range, and a quote from Raymond Queneau appears, translated as: "'Why,' he said, 'should one not tolerate this life, when so little suffices to deprive one of it?'" Without using scripted actors or commentary, the film succeeds as a tribute to the strength of the human spirit.

The title of French director Louis Malle's documentary film "Place De La République" can be interpreted in two distinctly different manners.For many viewers it is a decent documentary film about a famous area in Paris known as "Place De La République".Those who know French language well and are well versed with various subtle intricacies of French culture would not forfeit even a single minute to make out that this title is talking about the status of the French republic as a nation. Louis Malle has nicely blended these two elements while filming his film by choosing "Place De La République" area for a film shoot and republic of France as its political focus.Although the primary focus is on Paris as a French city,concerns of France as a country have not been overlooked as viewers get to hear and see many regional voices from different French areas.One big problem with this film is that Louis Malle follows a very primitive,raw form of documentary film making in which there is no narration.His choice of interviews is also very haphazard and it discourages viewers to form any kind of cohesive association with various people's lives which have been filmed.Louis Malle was a better director of fiction films but his documentary films also deserve to be watched as they provide interesting glimpses about how human beings behave in a social environment.However,this aspect is not fully developed in this film.

I thought this was utterly riveting - I couldn't turn the TV off even though I was exhausted. It is 1 1/2 hours of an interviewer/camera crew on the streets of Paris trying to speak to people about anything. There are a few dull moments but it gives a fantastic view on life in Paris - some of the people are survivors of World War II; nearly everyone seems to either be sick or have a spouse who is sick; there's the poor man who regularly goes in and out of psychiatric hospitals and considers himself a "playboy"; there's the lottery ticket woman who is stating how angry she is that they're filming her but then turns around and coyly peeks at the camera to make sure they're still filming her; there's the Polish Jew who was able to hide with his French Jewish wife during world war II who was a tailor and recently quit because of a heart attack - and admits shortly before he leaves that his wife died only 9 months ago - sorry I could go on and on but thought it was lovely for anyone who wants a peek at France's social/cultural life of everyday Parisians.

I really enjoy this document. I don't know if I find it fascinating or melancholic or charming... not sure what it is. I like looking back into a world that I didn't know in the first place; yet somehow I feel nostalgic for it. It might be the little things that have changed about all of us: there are smokers, no cellphones, well worn clothing, plain (or less adorned) figures, all somehow charismatic whether brash, jovial, sullen, spent and nebulous. These are people "apres le deluge", war survivors, immigrants, country folk in the city, vamps, authentics. I especially liked the consistency of some of the replies, and Malle's alarm at how many people living near La Place are ill. This film will change like a memories do - watching it from 2007 is a different experience than in 1974 or 1984 or the year after Malle's death. This movie was a service to his country and to all. There is no threatening bias to the document. It may be beyond current historians to even dare to make something like this today; they all seem so bent on imprinting everything with smarmy moral equivocations ala Ken Burns. I would like to see this experiment continued - perhaps someone like Gondry should take to the street again.

It's an intriguing experiment. Go up and down a couple of blocks on a busy Parisian street and strike up conversations with random people. Malle stops to chat with all kinds: retirees, shoppers, homeless, immigrants, salespeople, and one woman who says "I'm not racist" and then proceeds to say some pretty racist stuff. There's no common thread to the questions asked, just getting people to talk about their lives, their frustrations, their opinions. It's such a simple documentary concept that you wonder why it isn't done more often. After a while it becomes apparent: a little of this goes a long way, but 90 minutes goes too far. Like HUMAIN, TROP HUMAIN, this film eventually wears out its welcome and even the cameraman and editor seem to get restless. It's not that the discussions are too mundane (some are quite interesting and/or charming), it's just not enough to sustain one's interest for that long.