The Man In The Hat (2020): Très Charmant

Looking for a movie to watch that’s worthwhile, creative, well-made and entertaining? Something that is NOT an emotionally fraught downer, nor a violent crime drama, nor even an adrenalin infused, edge-of-your-seat thriller? Well, I’ve got a warm-hearted, engaging little gem right here for your consideration. And it is currently streaming [see below ].

The Man In the Hat is a delightful little British film set entirely in France. It is called that because this is one way to describe the main character, who is otherwise nameless.  Not that anyone actually in the movie calls him that or l’homme au chapeau or anything similar; indeed, I can’t recall anyone actually addressing him at all - other than a waitperson maybe using the honorific “monsieur” while delivering a beverage or something. In fact, one of the curiosities of The Man In the Hat  is that no one in the film comes with a given name (forename or surname); rather, characters are described in the credits as, for example, The Woman or The Measurer, and so forth.  

Perhaps the best way to describe The Man In the Hat  is whimsical. It is also a wistful paean to the pleasures of a mostly bygone (and idealized) village-strewn southern France and to an idealized, itinerant life of aimlessly touring this beautiful, largely pastoral area. There is a story, of course, but it is very slight – more of a frame than a narrative. 

The man wearing the hat is played by veteran Belfast-born actor Ciarán Hinds [HBO’s Rome (2006),  Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (2011),  Belfast (2021)]. We first meet him sitting at a small, quaint, marina-side café in Marseille, sipping a glass of wine. On his little table there’s a local tabloid, alongside which rests an old, framed portrait of a young woman with Farah Fawcette hair. A short distance away, a group of five men are removing something from an old Citroen deux chevaux – a package looking suspiciously like a body wrapped in black plastic, which they  unceremoniously throw into the water. Then, they look up and see the man with the hat sitting nearby watching them. Seeing them looking at him, the alarmed man [henceforth, Ciarán] decides to vamoose. Which he does post-haste, climbing into his own antique Fiat 500 and heading on down the road as fast as his itty-bitty car can take him. The framed woman’s portrait sits prominently on the seat beside him. 

While the above premise sounds like the beginning of a suspenseful chase film, it is not. There are mysteries for sure – who are those guys?  Why are they so comically inept in chasing him? Who is the mysterious woman in the portrait? Speaking of which, who is the intriguing woman in red that Ciarán first notices while aboard a river-crossing ferry soon after the café incident. Does any of this matter?

Probably not. Ciarán has no identified itinerary or goal, other than to avoid crowded places and the five guys in the 2CV. While he appears reflective and even melancholy at times, he obviously relishes the role of observer and the serendipity of aimless travel. In this sense, The Man In the Hat is like an un-narrated travelogue, punctuated by pleasing vistas, stops at charming cafes with good espresso, lubricating drinks and simple (French) food, and even – perhaps – a chance for some no-strings-attached tender companionship.   There’s sweet serendipity too.  Crossing a river at one point, Ciarán spies an attractive spot and decides to go for a swim, so pulls over and splashes in – then has an opportunity to rescue a young boy’s dog, floating downstream in the boy’s canoe, which had become unmoored.   

He chances upon some very quirky people – like the silent, sad-eyed “damp man” (Stephan Dillane) – so called because of his condition when he retrieves Ciaran’s sodden hat which had fallen into another river; or “the measurers” - a man and woman whose job seems to be, well, measuring things - and who, like many other folks Ciarán comes in contact with, pop up repeatedly during his wanderings.  There are some fascinating touristic moments, such as when Ciarán visits a former bullring to watch a Course Camarguaise contest – in which nimble contestants risk their lives (not the bull’s) trying to grab a ring from between an angry, charging animal’s long, deadly horns. 

In its drollness, its fanciful spirit, and its use of light, French accordion café-style music The Man In the Hat is indebted to writer-director-actor Jacques Tati – the director of such comic and satirical films as M. Hulot’s Holiday (1953) and Mon Oncle (1958). The picture is in some ways narrated by its music, says first-time director Stephen Warbeck, a composer himself. He wrote the incidental music for the movie and chose the rest – a various collection stylistically, including a lovely rendition of Otis Redding’s Try A Little Tenderness. There’s gypsy music at a café; swing music (and dancing) at a roadside pizza food truck; some lovely, evocative impromptu singing by a fellow diner at an auberge; and a sweet song about remembrance by three young women riding in Ciarán’s car for a bit - or was that last one just his memory of the song? Either way, it aptly reflects his state of mind in the moment.   

The absence of much dialogue or an elaborate plot is one reason the music is key to the film’s appeal. Ciarán himself says almost nothing, although his face is very expressive. Other characters do sometimes converse: for example, with Ciarán we overhear a juicy tale of not quite incest told by a young woman at a restaurant (called “the storyteller” in the credits). And there’s no shortage of incidents: At one point, Ciarán picks up a dog (chocolate Lab?), at another a hitchhiking disaffected priest. Pulling into an inn, he is mistaken for the guest of honor and is hustled into a candlelit room to receive an award and give a speech about crystallography.

The Man In the Hat is cute, a little absurdist, a tad melancholy, frequently funny and very warm – a beautifully constructed,  picturesque film that I found delightful. It may not be the best movie of the year, but it is a great evening escape into a beguiling and oddly comforting other world. It put a smile on my face and may do the same for you.

1 hour 35 minutes

Grade: B+

Streaming free with a subscription to Amazon Prime, Hoopla  or Kanopy; also rentable for a modest fee via Amazon, AppleTV+, GooglePlay and several other streaming services.