This is where Monsieur Hulot first appeared, with his pipe, his raincoat and that unmistakable walk, and the beach where he takes his holiday is now officially named after him, with a bronze statue of him on the sand. He barely says a word, and you won’t be able to stop laughing.
It’s the height of the season at a small seaside hotel, where the guests arrange their days around deckchairs, bridge and mealtimes, and everything runs like clockwork. Then Monsieur Hulot arrives, intent on taking his holiday seriously. Nothing he lays a hand on gets away unscathed.
Oscars
Nomination for Best Screenplay
1956
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