À toi de faire... mignonne (1963)
Directed by Bernard Borderie

Film Review

If the director-screenwriter Bernard Borderie is remembered today it is most likely for his Angélique films, a popular series of sultry historical-romantic dramas that made Michèle Mercier a household name in France and traumatised a whole nation's adolescents.  What is less well-known is that Borderie is closely associated with another iconic character in French popular culture, the indestructible FBI agent Lemmy Caution.  It was Borderie who directed Lemmy's first film adventure (arguably the best in the series) La Môme vert de gris (1953), which was immediately followed by Jean Sacha's Cet homme est dangereux (1953).  Borderie then returned to direct Les Femmes s'en balancent (1954), after which Pierre Chevalier took over the reins with Vous pigez? (1956). 

By this point the old Caution magic (which derived from an unsophisticated but cheerful pastiche of the American B-movie at its near-worst) was beginning to wear a little thin, although the films (inexplicably) were still proving to be very popular with French audiences.  Lemmy's next three adventures were filmed by Borderie, Comment qu'elle est (1960), Lemmy pour les dames (1961), and À toi de faire... mignonne (1963).  It was only after completing this last string of Lemmy Caution films that Borderie was able to make Angélique, marquise des anges (1964), and perhaps redeem himself in the eyes of some critics.  If we exclude Jean-Luc Godard's attempt to deconstruct the Caution myth with Alphaville (1965), À toi de faire mignonne is the seventh and last of the Lemmy Caution films.  Released on 25th September 1963, it is a Franco-Italian production based on Your Deal My Lovely, a novel by Caution's celebrated creator, Peter Cheyney.

With Lemmy Caution poised to pick up his pension book (or at least waiting to receive a ticket to the mysterious computer-controlled metropolis Alphaville), the formula is by now sickeningly familiar - the usual potpourri of American-style thriller clichés served up with a superficially attractive French garnish.  Trite and predictable it may have been but the recipe was still incredibly popular - this latest film attracted an audience of 1.6 million in France.  And, to be fair, the film's lack of sophistication and originality do not denude it entirely of entertainment value, even for the more discerning of B-movie aficionados.  This is classic film noir in low calorie soufflé form, an appetising little snack that is pleasing enough but leaves you with a hankering after something much more substantial, preferably something involving Humphrey Bogart or James Cagney.

À toi de faire mignonne may have its shortcomings but its production values are still pretty impressive for a middle-of-the-road crime movie of this era, the main assets being Henri Persin's slick photography and Paul Misraki's enjoyably hackneyed cocktail bar jazz score.  Eddie Constantine plays his most famous character with his habitual charm and gusto, and if he was tired of the role by this time he manages to hide it remarkably well.  This was after all the part he was born to play, making him the most unlikely star of mainstream French cinema in the 1950s and 60s.  Constantine's famous lack of acting prowess (which led some critics to regard him as the worst actor of his generation) meant that he seldom appeared alongside other big name actors, and this last Caution escapade is no exception.

Cover girl and fading Italian star Gaia Germani, who first made her mark in France with Georges Lautner's L'Oeil du monocle (1962), is an interesting and effective choice for the female lead, and Christiane Minazzoli, who appeared in numerous B movies between 1949 and 1996, is an admirable choice for the convicted Carlotta Strasser.  The contingent of sizzling femmes fatales is completed by the German actress and singer Elga Andersen, seen in Lautner's Monocle films - her feisty persona makes her ideal for the role of Montana, the gang leader's mistress.  Philippe Lemaire is suitably cast as the womanising gangster Enrico Pranzetti whilst Guy Delorme revels in the role of the wicked Elmer Whittaker, the villain of the piece.  Noël Roquevert and Hubert Deschamps complete an adequate but far from distinguished supporting cast.

If the previous Lemmy Caution films had shown a noticeable drift towards self-concious parody, À toi de faire mignonne struggles to avoid being an outright spoof, with the whole thing sliding uncomfortably into farce and slapstick towards the end.  Some tacky, low-grade humour diminishes a script which is, by and large, one of the most respectable in the Lemmy Caution series.  Our Federal agent's frequent attempts to break the fourth wall (by winking at and talking into the camera) merely confirm what we know - the series had well and truly run its course and was fit only to be subjected to the ultimate Mickey-take by JLG as part of his binge crusade against popular culture in the 1960s.

Film Synopsis

An FBI agent is murdered just as she discovers some important documents concerning Professor Elmer Whittaker.  When the professor goes missing, Lemmy Caution is sent to investigate.  A short while later, the professor's fiancée Géraldine Montevecchio is kidnapped from her hotel.  The only clue that Caution has to go on is that Géraldine has been taken to Paris.  During the flight to the French capital Caution's eyes are drawn to a woman who introduces herself as Valérie Pontiac, the owner of a women's underwear factory in Canada. After meeting his contact in Paris, Henri Grant, Caution is ambushed.   The agent realises that Valérie was responsible for this attack and soon learns that she is Carlotta Strasser, who was arrested a few years previously for criminal activities.   Arriving at Valérie's home address, Caution is not surprised to find Henri Grant in her apartment, but he is caught unaware by what happens next...