...braving the lambast-worthy gauntlet of losing some respectable points as one of many cult film auteurs out there, the respected 'comma, then title' moniker which this reviewer make an unabashed claim to...he...uh, he (...stutter, stutter)...he has to candidly, and...swell, quite shamefully admit, he...uh, he (...stutter, stutter) had never partaken of a film, produced and directed by the great Francois Truffaut...that is, until now. Admittedly, as a very young and budding embracee of cult films, this reviewer had heard of this extraordinarily masterful filmmaker, at least enough to know that his film artistry was, at the very least, something more than noteworthy, and he was even dimly privy to some of Truffaut's early film work (...'fancy-schmancy arthouse' films, I called them back then...and as a youth...well, perhaps it was understandable that I wasn't into 'fancy-schmancy', though indeed, such films were as yet beyond my level of understanding and appreciation, at the time), without actually having seen them...classics like "Fahrenheit 451", "Story of Adele H" and "Shoot the Pianist", amongst others...
...no siree...this reviewer's first exposure to Francois Truffaut wasn't even his prowess at film direction; rather, it was his authoritative, albeit language-hampered performance as Claude Lacombe, in the wonder, instilling 1977, Steven Spielberg-directed sci-fi classic, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind". However, even in that enigmatic performance alone, there was an aura of interest and fascination, which shone through...not in the character he played, but in the performer...or rather, the artist himself, the exposition of which could not be denied, nor ignored...
