A look at the Citroen factory and the workers that inhabit it. The film is done entirely without narration, and in fact the only audible dialogue occurs during the auto show (which, curiously, happens in the middle of the movie) as potential customers vacuously dissect the workmanship of the cars. The workers themselves are voiceless automatons, laboring at their repetitive, compartmentalized tasks. Malle gets right up in their faces as they go about their jobs, capturing a humanity that's on the verge of being swallowed by the process, often framing them in a manner that suggests they're trapped by the machinery. However, although I get that the drudgery is kind of the point of the film, 72 minutes of this gets to be a little tiresome and the fascination starts to wear off. Still, the measured rhythms of the film can be hypnotic.
Review of Humain, trop humain
