A film-within-a-film that lacks the common pretension that appears in the genre. In most of these sorts, there is a certain air that "film" is a higher form of art than any existent today. What "Day for Night" straight-facedly states is that the actor's day is nothing more than the daily "grind" of the common worker, and that the director is nothing more than the "general manager," who is bombarded with questions at every turn. This film more than others clearly gives light to the famous quote of Orsen Wells -- that to make a film is comparable to playing with the world's "largest train set." What impressed me most with this film was its approach to the art form without tending toward unnecessary flourishing. In other words, it is a film about films, and nothing more. It's almost as if Truffaut desired to say, "This is what it's all about, and no joke." The film does not attempt to preach, condescend, or embellish, as most of today's "film-within-a-film" types ordinarily do. It is, in short, a delight for the eye, an excitation for those who love the art, and a pleasantry for those who enjoy sitting in one place for nearly two hours.
This is the Art of Film, by one of film's greatest admirers and pupils.