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Philippe Clair's first effort...And the beginning of a series of hopeless coarse farces ,each one lousier than the one before ;with this director ,we really plumbs the depths of stupidity ,the French cinema hits rock bottom.Along with Max Pecas, he reigns over the French bomb . It will not be vital to "add a plot" on the IMDb page ,for there's virtually none.

Four Pieds-Noirs (French colonial born in Algeria) leave their African homeland for the broader horizons of France where they look at the girls like the wolf in Tex Avery's cartoons ;too weak to work ,they will live a life of luxury ,for one of them becomes a kept man (by Annie Girardot whose presence I almost pass over in silence ,if only out of respect for the sadly missed great actress);they go places ,they mess around ...what more can I write?

Oddly,this coarse comedy is given a new wavelet treatment ,which does not help matters: filming on location, cult of youth, woman doing soul-searching,hip places (Deauville,Cannes ),loose screenplay (and I mean loose)...

One of the four pals is miscast :how could we believe the late French-American Mike Marshall is a Pied -Noir?On the other hand ,a genuine Pied -Noir, singer Enrico Macias has a cameo and performs one of his big mid-sixties hits "Paris Tu M'As Pris Dans Tes Bras "

If this poor flick triggered something off in your mind,much good may it do you!