Titoff is yet qnother self-styled 'comique' who plays the clubs in Paris and thinks (or his management thinks) that he's ready for the Big Leagues. L'Incruste (the word is virtually untranslateable, the man who came to dinner is close except that Sheridan Whiteside stayed on only because he broke his ankle or whatever while Titoff invites himself but even 'freeloader' doesn't quite hit it, probably the best we can hope for is 'to wear out one's welcome' and leave it at that) is nevertheless a non-demanding divertissment. Titoff may have invented the phrase 'accident prone'; if you have a priceless Ming vase in the attic and you give this guy a bed in the BASEMENT you can kiss that vase goodbye because somehow, if only by osmosis, he is going to smash it even indirectly. The film falls naturally into two halves, one setting up Titoff as a jerk and then the 'caper'. In its favor is the locale, Menilmontent and Bastille, areas of North East Paris not explored too often by moviemakers in love with Montparnass and Montmartre. It's hard to say if it will make it outside the borders of France but if not you haven't missed all that much. 5/10
