L'Amant de Bornéo (1942)
Directed by Jean-Pierre Feydeau, René Le Hénaff

Film Review

Jean-Pierre Feydeau had around half a dozen screenwriting credits to his name before he took the plunge and directed his first feature-length film.  Actually that film - L'Amant de Bornéo - turned out to be the only feature he directed, and even on this film he had to share the directing duties with René Le Hénaff, an established and far more capable filmmaker.  Feydeau does a reasonable job with the material at his disposal, but the problem is that the material is far from laudable - a mediocre and somewhat out-dated stage comedy by Roger Ferdinand.  If only Feydeau had been so fortunate as to direct a screen adaptation of one his father Georges' celebrated farces things might have turned out better for him...

L'Amant de Bornéo takes a glib, well-worn idea - a hapless Romeo weaves an increasingly fanciful fiction in the hope of winning his hard-to-please Juliet -and extracts as much comedy mileage from it as is humanly possible.  In Feydeau's far-from-confident hands, the end result looks like an all-too desperate attempt to make a low calorie snack resemble an ample four course meal.  The situations are predictable and ludicrous to a fault, and whilst there is no shortage of humour, most of the gags are facile and clumsily executed.  It's a poor man's painting-by-numbers equivalent of a Preston Sturges comedy - the potential is there - mostly in the sublime casting - but somehow the film falls short of what it could have been, had a little more flair and imagination been allowed to creep into the writing and mise-en-scène.

Midway through the Occupation, Arletty was at the height of both her powers and her popularity, and if there was a French actress of this era who could redeem a so-so film comedy she was surely it.  From the moment she makes her spectacular entrance, making up for a lame conjuring act with one of her famous musical numbers, J'crois bien que c'est arrivé, Arletty monopolises our attention.  Let's not be coy or miserly with our superlatives.  She is simply stunning - as indeed she was in just about every film she made between 1938 and 1946.  There's a likeable troupe of fine supporting actors (and other exotic animals) vying for our attention, but she is the favoured talent and Feydeau, to his credit, exploits his chief asset to the full.  Many people think of Arletty as only a dramatic actress, through her iconic performances in Hôtel du nord (1938) and Les Enfants du paradis (1945), but L'Amant de Bornéo, for all its manifest imperfections, shows just what a natural flair for comedy she had.

Jean Tissier, too often relegated to easily overlooked supporting roles for most of his career, takes centre stage as the Walter Mitty-like soupirant intent on making an amorous conquest of the elusive music hall star inhabited by Arletty.  Like his more charismatic co-star, Tissier rises above the depressing mediocrity of the script and turns in one of his more enjoyable comedy turns, comfortable in a part that appears to have been tailor-made for him.  The Tissier-Arletty pairing works far better than you might have expected, despite the obvious lack of romantic chemistry between the two actors (it's an even more unlikely romantic pairing than that of Bette Davis and James Cagney in The Bride Came C.O.D. (1941) - but still just as much fun, albeit sans cactus).

Guillaume de Sax and André Alerme - two formidable character actors of the period that have criminally been allowed to slip into obscurity - lend further comedy muscle in their supporting roles, with Jimmy Gaillard, Pauline Carton and the ever-dependable Pierre Larquey ably fielding the gags that end up being lobbed in their direction.  The film could probably have dispensed with the man in the monkey suit, but not the lovable bear who provides the film with its funniest moments (not even Arletty can compete with this scene-stealer).  L'Amant de Bornéo falls short of being a bona fide classic but it's still a hefty good-natured romp - one that is snatched from the pit of mundanity by some weird animal-themed humour and Arletty's divine treatment of the film's two musical numbers.  Alas, as acquired tastes go, this quirky French comedy is not quite in the same league as munching caterpillars...

Film Synopsis

During a brief sojourn in Paris, Lucien Mazerand, a timid bookseller from Châteauroux, spends an evening at the music hall to watch Stella Losange perform her celebrated conjuring act.  Lucien's admiration is soon overtaken by an amour fou and he becomes obsessed with meeting the famous singer-cum-illusionist in person.  Unfortunately for him, romance is the last thing on Stella's mind.  Too many disappointments in love have left her convinced that all men are liars and swindlers. She can barely tolerate her bothersome impresario, Arthur Serval, who has amorous designs on her.  Taking the advice of his friend Gaston, Lucien passes himself off as a renowned explorer, the kind who thrives on danger and adventure.

The deception works a treat.  As soon as Lucien crosses her threshold, Stella is in thrall to this heroic man of action, not suspecting for a moment that he has never before set foot outside his home town.  To maintain the illusion and further his romantic ambitions, Lucien gives Gaston's house a dramatic makeover, filling it with supposed souvenirs of his globetrotting exploits, and even acquiring a bear and a monkey.  A black manservant adds a nice touch of verisimilitude.  Needless to say, Stella is mightily impressed and Lucien's marital prospects have never looked better.  But then Stella drops her bombshell.  She too has a thirst for adventure and would like nothing better than to accompany Lucien on his next expedition - to Borneo!