Lo strano dramma del dottor Molyneux

An absolutely wonderful Carne/Prevert jeu d'esprit that owes more to the modernist whimsy of a Rene Clair than the claustrophobic pessimism of their later works. Although acclaimed as the greatest exponents of poetic realism, films like QUAI DES BRUMES and LE JOUR SE LEVE can be seen today as flagrantly artificial, most especially in the sets and almost classical plots. Here, they let the artifice run riot, allowing plots run into strange digressions or non-sequiters. The sense of freedom absent from their more famous works is invigorating.

Set in Edwardian England, Archibald Soper is a lecherous, hypocritical, poker-faced bishop who holds sparsely attended public meetings denouncing the evils of detective fiction, apparently an English 'craze' of the time. His cousin, Irwin Molyneaux, is a timid gardener married to a splendidly imperious snob, Margaret. He writes, unknown to his family, hugely successful detective novels under the pseudonym Felix Chapel, with plots pilfered from his maid's hyperactive milkman admirer, Billy.

One day, Soper forces himself on the Molyneaux for dinner, but Margaret has exasperated her cooking staff too far, and they have vamoosed. Aghast at the potential humiliation of having no servants, she pretends to be visiting friends and cooks the meal herself. However, Irwin's ineptness at deceit leads Soper to report a murder to Scotland Yard.

The film's starting point is the English fondness for detective fiction, and much of the film's humour, its sense of the absurd, its command of farce, its playing with appearance and class, gives the film an English comic eccentricity, rarely found in the French cinema. DROLE, however, is the complete opposite of the typical English detective novel, which offers an opening chaos and enigma, with the social disruption of a crime and a series of wildly disparate clues and leads, but achieves order and social restoration through the figure of the detective who can see, interpret and control everything.

In DROLE, following Chesterton, say, rather than Conan Doyle, events start in relative order - characters are firmly set in their social positions. But as the plot proceeds, as characters are revealed to be leading double lives, as the profusion of secondary characters complicates rather than explicates the story, as events become more preposterous and unlikely, the social divisions represented by clear-cut spaces are blurred, and the film

escalates into chaos represented by the mob, that great terror of the English, spilling into the narrative, destroying the respectable middle-class home, flouting and mocking the law, making its own judgements. The resolution, such as it is, is a complete lie, because there is no crime, and yet it is brilliantly subversive because it completely disrupts the duplicitous order at the beginning, it alienates people living convenient compartmentalised lives from themselves, forcing them to confront, if only for a moment, their true desires, which contradict their public faces,

DROLE is ridiculously funny, and Prevert's arch theatricality has never been used to greater effect. Another plus is one of the most remarkable casts ever assembled - Michel Simon is immensely touching as the bemused gardener forced to abandon the comforts of his mimosa for the chaos of life on the run (private property being the conservative definition of self); Francoise Rosay is incomparable as the grande dame, besotted by social propriety, yet seething with untapped lust; the young Jean-Louis Barrault is a little callow compared to his seasoned elders, but endearingly impudent - the scene in the greenhouse pond with Rosay is a mock-classical treasure.

Standing out, though, is possibly the greatest French actor of the 1930s, Louis Jouvet, the funniest straight man in the film, keeping his gloriously calm poker-face through all kinds of humiliations and revelations, including the donning of an elaborate kilt to find an incriminating picture from an 'actress'. Best of all is Carne's style, completely unrestrained, unafraid to go for 'gag'-like effects (the mugging of dandies for buttonholes is particularly piquant), beavering through fairy-tale sets that do for London what TOP HAT did for Venice, completely at ease with the farce, yet still pulling off evocative shots that reveal the emotional reality behind the nonsense.

Of the seven films written by Jacques Prevert and directed by Marcel Carne I have now seen five - and I have the published screenplay of 'Jenny' their initial collaboration and now the only one I have yet to see. This is the kind of film that brings out the hybridologist in reviewers, the Marx Brothers Meet Mel Brooks type of Screamers and it has to be said that the film does lend itself to that type of journo's trick. Of course any film written by Prevert and directed by Carne is going to be worth seeing whatever the story and whoever the cast. In terms of cast this is a doozy; Michel Simon, Francoise Rosay, Louis Jouvet, Jean-Louis Barrault, Jean-Pierre Aumont, on the surface the cream of French cinema between the wars, but if we stop and look again we realize that what we have here is a series of disparate acting styles so the logical question is what type of story can possibly accommodate this bizarre melange. Answer: Precisely the sort of story Prevert has supplied in which a group of top French actors are transplanted to Edwardian London and given names like Archibald Soper, Irwin Molyneux, William Kramps and, wait for it, Billy, The Milkman. Do we really need a plot after this? Well, in case the answer is yes how about a hypocritical bishop (Jouvet) who gets his kicks denouncing detective fiction (this was in its heyday in 1937, when the film was made, but hardly causing much of a stir in Edwardian England) whilst his cousin (Simon) leads a double life as a timid gardener who moonlights as a best-selling author of detective fiction. When Soper invites himself to lunch at his cousin's London home, the lady of the house (Francoise Rosay) having antagonised the staff to the point of their departure, prepares the meal herself and then, on grounds of rampant snobbery, absents herself for the duration. From this seemingly innocuous move Soper convinces himself that Molyneux has murdered his wife and the scene is set for things to spin in ever widening circles. Still a huge hit in France and shown regularly on TV it has never, to my knowledge, played in England. Seeing it for the first time in 2004 I was completely captivated and drawn into its spiralling plot. 9/10

In the Victorian London, the botanist Irwin Molyneux (Michel Simon) and his wife Margaret Molyneux (Françoise Rosay) are bankrupted but still keeping the appearance due to the successful crime novels written by Irwin under the pseudonym of Felix Chapel. Their cook has just left the family, when Irwin's snoopy and hypocrite cousin Archibald Soper (Louis Jouvet) that is in campaign against the police stories of Felix Chapel invites himself to have dinner in Irwin's house. Margaret decides to keep the farce of their social position secretly cooking the dinner, while the clumsy Irwin justifies her absence telling the bishop Soper that she had just traveled to the country to meet some friends. However Soper suspects of Irwin and calls the Scotland Yard, assuming that his cousin had poisoned his wife. Irwin and Margaret decide to hide the truth to avoid an exposition of their financial situation, moving to a low-budget hotel in the Chinese neighborhood, getting into trouble.

"Drôle de Drame ou L'Étrange Aventure de Docteur Molyneux" is a hilarious theatrical comedy of farce and mistakes. Most of the characters are hypocrite, greedy, lazy or simply incompetent and the situations they get involved are silly, naive but very funny. In spite of having irrelevant flaws in the plot, this film is a great entertainment. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Família Exótica" ("Exotic Family")

I haven't read the other user comments but whoever did the summary for this film possibly hasn't seen it! It has absolutely nothing to do with a serial killer of women (the killer in question kills butchers because they kill animals) and Soper accuses his cousin Molyneux of having poisoned his (Molyneux's) wife. The whole thing is an absurdist's delight -- a French film set in a London that never was.

A huge international hit in the 30s, I suspect this seems a bit too labored and artificial now to quite captivate a modern audience the way, say, Children of Paradise still does. But the fan of 30s cinema (Marx Brothers and Carole Lombard division) will find lots to like in the collision of disparate styles-- screwball motivations (Barrault plays a besotted madman worthy of Mischa Auer) and Feydeau-farce complications (I won't spoil the delightful way in which Simon, having absconded from home and suspected of a nonexistent murder, is immediately forced to return to his house in disguise); a supposed proper Englishness (the mania for detective tales and the orderly reality beneath them) seen through thoroughly French eyes (which means that mad Gallic passion roils just below the surface). And if you know French cinema, the cast is its own reward-- stern Jouvet, as an increasingly irrational and surreal-acting clergyman, versus shambling Simon (reportedly they hated each other, in any case the clash of styles is perfect), Rosay (of Carnival in Flanders), the handsome Aumont and, most surprisingly, Barrault in an energetically black- comic role 180 degrees from his winsome mime in Children of Paradise. (Note on availability: So far as I know there's no good version of this on tape in the US but there is a very good subtitled French DVD, region 2 only of course.)