PlayTime (1967)

Jacques Tati built a whole glass-and-steel Paris for this film, a set with its own power plant, then filled it with jokes so small and so far from the camera that you miss half of them the first time. Dialogue is reduced to background murmur, Monsieur Hulot drifts in and out as one figure among many, and the comedy comes from people politely failing to cope with modern buildings. It plays less like a sketch show than like watching a vast, silent piece of clockwork. See it on the biggest screen you can: Tati shot it on 70 mm film, and the gags live at the edges of the frame.