Jean is taken hostage at a bank by a foolish bank robber. As Jean left prison an hour earlier, the police assume he's the robber. Everything goes comically wrong. The robber's little daughter joins the fugitives.
Catherine, refuses to believe that her business partner, the unlikeable François, has a best friend, so she challenges him to set up an introduction. Scrambling to find someone willing to pose as his best pal, François enlists the services of a charming taxi driver to play the part.
A French public servant from Provence is banished to the far North. Strongly prejudiced against this cold and inhospitable place, he leaves his family behind to relocate temporarily there, with the firm intent to quickly come back.
François Pignon, a very bland sort of man who works as an accountant in a rubber factory, is about to be fired. His new neighbour comes up with an idea to prevent such a thing to happen: he spreads the rumor that he's gay so that the factory management might be afraid they'll be sued for sexual discrimination. Of course, nothing happens as it should, but the changes in François Pignon's life -and other people's too- is drastic !Written by
Great comedy! Its parts fit together like a Chinese wood block puzzle
English: "The Closet"
This reminded me in some ways of M. Hulot (Le Vacance de M. Hulot, the greatest comedy I've ever seen), in others of some of the best of the Alec Guiness comedies. Not for style but for quality. It's at their level.
There were fine performances by all the main characters but I was fascinated by the unfolding of the plot. All the pieces fit together so intricately and well and so few liberties were taken of normal human reactions -- almost everything was within comfortable bonds of believability. Well, there were a couple of minor stretches -- the catalyzing role of a sexual encounter in finally transforming M. Pignon's personality was one, but wouldn't that be quaintly Gallic? And the transformation of his son was another, but then -- teenagers can sometimes be unpredictable, can't they? And it had only one broad sterotype, Mr. Santini (Gerard Depardieu). I left the theater amazed at how well the various facets of the plot fit so well together that it reminded me then of a Chinese wood block puzzle; now, a week later, that still seems most fitting.
This is _not_ a movie about being gay; that's only the gas that fuels the car that takes the people on that trip. It _is_ an observant, droll film about office politics and the way people's views of others can be distorted by labels. I'm sure -- within a few years -- this will be considered a classic and deservedly so.
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