This is one of the films that got me into French cinema from this time. The deep focus on Antoine Doinel and piecing together a picture of a life made more difficult by every authority in his life finding ways to fail him. There is no sufficient figure in his life to model himself on, or to provide him any kind of direction for his energy and passion.
I think two about the sequence where he steals a typewriter from his stepfather’s office, tries and fails to sell it, and then gets caught when giving up and attempting to return the typewriter. Is it ironic that he only gets in trouble after finally deciding to do the right thing, or is it a fulfillment of the axiom that it’s not the crime that gets you in trouble, but the cover up?
This also fits into a specific subgenre I enjoy, which I like to call “It sucks to be a schoolboy in postwar Europe.”
Also: Jean-Pierre Léaud as Antoine. What a performance. Honest, heartfelt, and heartbreaking.
This Builds Character 
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