Le Pays, d'où je viens (1956)
Directed by Marcel Carné

Film Review

After his regrettable break up with his invaluable associate Jacques Prévert, the legendary cinéaste Marcel Carné came to something of an impasse in the 1950s.  Now that poetic realism had gone out of fashion, he tried to make a fresh start, adopting naturalism for his next three films: La Marie du port (1950), Thérèse Raquin (1953) and L'Air de paris (1954).  After the failure of the latter film and two unproductive years, Carné had no choice but to come up to date and follow the prevailing tastes if he was to continue making films.  The only proposal that came his way was for a minor commercial movie entitled Le Pays d'où je viens, which was released on the 20th October 1956 at Cinéma Gaumont Palace.  A musical Christmas tale filmed in Eastmancolor, it is Carné's most unlikely film, an unashamed crowdpleaser that had nothing to connect it with the director's previous gloomily realist oeuvre.

The film - Carné's 13th feature - may have been a box office hit in France, attracting an audience of 2.9 million, but it was not well-received by the critics, who had by now largely turned against him.  Although technically impressive, Le Pays d'où je viens is thin on content, an unpretentious bluette directed with care by a filmmaker who clearly deserves better.  It may not be Carné's best film (indeed, it is virtually forgotten today), but it is not without charm and clearly bears its author's imprint in its meticulous mise-en-scène.  It has the distinction of being one of just two comedies that Carné directed, the other being Du mouron pour les petits oiseaux (1962).   As ever, Carné's direction of his actors is impeccable and he extracts the maximum comedy mileage from Marcel Achard's script.  Unlike many musicals of the period, the songs are inserted into the narrative without obviously interrupting the action.  The film may be lightweight but it is an enjoyable divertissement.

An eccentric, or perhaps inspired, choice was the casting of the popular singer Gilbert Bécaud in the double role of a drifter (or guardian angel) and a timid pianist.  For all his magnetism, Bécaud (a.k.a. Monsieur 100.000 Volts) is not a natural actor and occasionally looks ill at ease on the screen; he also lent his talents to the soundtrack in this, his first experience of the film business.  In her 26th film, the lovely Françoise Arnoul grabs our attention as the pretty waitress Marinette, a far more sympathetic character than the kind of vixen she is best known for.  The supporting cast includes: Jean Toulout, well-suited for the part of the evil uncle Ludovic; André Gabriello as the cheerful brewery owner; and a young Claude Brasseur in his very first film. 

Even if Marcel Carné's best films were by now long behind him, the director would show a remarkable return to form with what followed this unexpected populist diversion: Les Tricheurs (1958), Trois chambres à manhattan (1965) and Les Assassins de l'ordre (1971).  Most of the critics may have given up on him, seeing him as an irrelevance in the light of the French New Wave, but Carné still managed to make quality films that could attract an audience.  Le Pays d'où je viens may have been just the therapy he needed to put him back on the right track.

Film Synopsis

One Christmas Eve, a carefree young man, Eric, arrives in a small provincial town.  Here, he meets Julien, a bar pianist who is his exact double.  Julien is in love with Marinette, a pretty waitress, but he is too shy to make any romantic overtures.  Eric decides to give the course of true love a helping hand by pretending to be Julien.  Meanwhile, Eric's fabulously wealthy uncle has sent his minions out to bring him back home, so that he may celebrate Christmas in the bosom of his family.