Drôle de drame

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

'Drôle de drame' (1937 - alternative title 'Bizarre, Bizarre'), the second film by French director Marcel Carné, has over time acquired the status of a cult film. Criticized and ignored upon its premiere in the tense years before World War II, it was re-released after the war and enjoyed great success. Since then, every opportunity to re-watch it produces new praise and discoveries of new virtues. Was this film released too early? 'Drôle de drame' uses the French theatrical vaudeville style to create a savory critique of British morals and social tics and combines a parody of detective films with moments of surrealism. Perhaps the fact that Marcel Carné had released 'Les enfants du paradis' and 'Le quai des brumes' in the meantime led the audiences to re-evaluate this earlier movie in his career? Whatever the explanation, 'Drôle de drame', seen 87 years after its filming and first release, provides an opportunity to meet some names that are now legendary, but also a fresh and enjoyable cinematic experience at many moments.

The film is the adaptation of a novel by the British writer J. Storer Clouston, the adaptation being signed by Carné and the eminent poet Jacques Prévert, screenwriter or co-screenwriter of numerous famous French films. The story takes place in London, but it is more of a French version of London, or rather as it would have been represented on a French comedy stage in the first half of the 20th century. We are dealing with serial murders and not very competent detectives from Scotland Yard who solve cases in their sleep, with a Puritan minister and a mysterious crime novelist, with enigmatic disappearances and double identities, with journalists thirsty for sensational news and a milkman in love. The most improbable events follow each other at a rapid pace. Police intrigue and theatrical vaudeville meet in an original mix.

The cast is stellar. Michel Simon appears in a double role alongside Louis Jouvet. The two actors, who were among the superstars of interwar French cinema, did not really get on with each other, but perhaps it was the tension between them that contributed to the quality of some scenes that have become anthological. We can also watch Jean-Louis Barrault, who would become one of the great actors and directors of the French theatre and who was then only 27 years old and dedicated most of his artistic efforts to film, with 5 films in his filmography in each of the years 1936, 1937, 1938. Here he has a secondary, but important and not at all simple, role - a serial killer who also falls in love. Every scene in which he appears is a delight. Satirical arrows at British morals and social formalisms abound. 'Drôle de drame' was and is superb comic entertainment.

Boy do I love French movies from the mid-late 1930s. They were typified by wonderful cinematography, excellent sets and magical stories. Artistically, many of them are at least as good as anything Hollywood had to offer.

A fantastic example of my appreciation of this older style is this movie, Drôle de Drame. Like such great 30s French films as The Baker's Wife, the film abounds with WONDERFUL and very colorful supporting characters. Are they altogether realistic, NOT IN THE LEAST--but they are wonderful, nevertheless. They remind me a lot of the odd characters you might find in films by Frank Capra or Preston Sturgis. The silliness of the film also reminds me of films like Arsenic and Old Lace or Bringing Up Baby--and this a a STRONG complement indeed! In addition, this film is a delight on the eyes--with BETTER than Hollywood camera and set design--it just looks marvelous! So, despite all these positives why does it only get a 9?! Well, the plot is really cute but full of holes. In other words, the fundamental plot element leading to all the hilarity just isn't logical. BUT, WHO CARES?! It's so cute, well-made and the ride is so much fun, I really didn't care and I strongly recommend this film to anyone.

I would try to discuss the plot, but considering how weird and convoluted it is, I think it best not to even try.

FYI--for parents, there is a brief nude scene involving a charming serial killer swimming naked in a goldfish pond (!). You get to see this guy's tush--so, if you do NOT want the kiddies seeing this, either speed the DVD up when Mrs. Molyneux enters the greenhouse or try another film. It is VERY brief, though.

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.

Spoofs are generally not popular with the masses (except when Crosby/Hope or Abbott/Costello or Woody Allen are doing the spoofing) so it's no surprise to discover there exist few box-office viable spoofs of film noir. (I know people will claim Alexander Mackendrick's 1955 The Ladykillers, but this is actually a marvelous spoof of crime caper movies. Otto Heller's photographic style not only shines brightly into every nook and cranny, but the story always goes for the belly laugh rather than the jugular vein). A notable exception is the Marcel Carné 1937 Drole de Drame, in which one of the finest casts ever assembled – Jouvet, Simon, Rosay, Barrault, Aumont, and the lovely Nadine Vogel (who made only four movies, of which this is her debut) wrestle with a delightfully ridiculous plot that manages to get wilder and wilder as it progresses from pugnacious snobbery through blatant hypocrisy to the most ridiculous cop shop misinvestigation ever presented on a big-budget theatre screen. Schuftann's atmospheric, noir photography and Trauner's nightmarishly sprawling sets rival any similar creations from Berlin or Hollywood. The movie is chock full of bizarre touches, but the one that tickled me best was the sleeping journo, most amusingly played by Henri Guisol (who enjoyed quite a career in French who-dun-its and noir).