Film Review
Raphaël le tatoué
made 1930s cinemagoers an offer they could hardly refuse: two
Fernandels for the price of one - well almost. In a cunning
variation on the theme of doubles (a popular device in French comedies
of this era), Fernandel plays a character (his usual gump persona) who
pretends to have an identical twin
brother (a lowgrade hoodlum), a neat idea which avoids the time and
expense of having to use double exposure. Instead, we get one of
the best visual gags of any Fernandel film - the horse-faced comedian
working overtime to convince us he is being beaten up by his imaginary
twin brother. As daft comedy conceits go, it's a good one, and
the one criticism that can be levelled at the film is that it doesn't
make as much use of it as it should. Still. it's better than
Richard Pottier's
Destins (1946), which has Tino Rossi
trying to pull off the more conventional twin brother act, with less
success. Fernandel would later get to play a
bona fide double role in Jean
Bastia's
Dynamite Jack (1961).
After Marcel Pagnol, it was Christian-Jaque who made the best use of
Fernandel in the 1930s, and whilst
Raphaël
le tatoué isn't quite up to the standard of his previous
François
Premier (1937), it is still a cut above the rest of most of
the comic actor's films of this decade. It helps that there is
another comedy heavyweight on board, namely Armand Bernard, to prevent
this from being a one-man show, and the other bonus is a gorgeous
Madeleine Sologne, looking surprisingly at home in this lively lowbrow
comedy. Better known for more serious fare such as Jean
Delannoy's
L'Éternel retour (1943)
and Pierre Chenal's
La Foire aux chimères
(1946), Sologne brings a touch of class to what might otherwise have
been a routine, male-dominated comedy, aided and abetted by
Monique Rolland, an even feistier 30s glamour girl.
In common with many of his films of this period, Fernandel gets to
exercise his vocal chords with three sprightly musical numbers -
Irai-je ou n'irai-je pas?,
Un dur, un vrai, un tatoué
and
Zim la boum ho ho - all
of which fit neatly into the narrative. These amiable little
ditties were contributed by Casimir Oberfeld, a great composer of
operetta and film scores who sadly ended his days at Auschwitz in 1945
after failing to evade capture by the Nazis. Following the
leisurely paced build-up to the best gag, the film suddenly goes into
hyperdrive with a crazily speeded-up car race, next to which
Monte Carlo or Bust look like
an Ingmar Bergman drama.
Raphaël
le tatoué is easily one of the silliest of Fernandel's
films but don't let that put you off - it is also one of his funniest.
© James Travers 2015
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Next Christian-Jaque film:
L'Assassinat du Père Noël (1941)
Film Synopsis
Modeste Manosque finds himself in trouble when he is spotted by his employer
at Luna Park one evening in the company of a pretty blonde Aline. He
is supposed to be at work - guarding his boss's car factory. He has
his cousin Romeo to thank for getting him into this mess. Modeste is
habitually a timid soul and diligent employee, but when Romeo outlined the
attractions of Luna Park to him he could hardly resist. And now he
faces the chop, since his employer, Roger Drapeau, is hardly the most forgiving
of individuals. In fact, he is something of a tyrant. If Drapeau
could get away with guillotining his staff, he would do so, with relish.
Modeste is ready to accept his dismissal when he has a sudden brainwave.
Why not pretend that he has a twin brother? It was Raphaël le
tatoué, the brother who turned out badly, that his employer saw in
the park, not him! Incredibly, Drapeau swallows the lie hook, line
and sinker, so Modeste's job is saved. What the timorous watchman hadn't
expected is the fantastic plan that his employer then comes up with to win
him a forthcoming marathon car race. The plan is for Modeste and his
brother Raphaël to take alternate stages in the competition, thereby
guaranteeing Drapeau's car will win the competition because no one will be
able to tell the two drivers apart.
To keep his job, Modeste has no choice but to go along with the madcap scheme,
although he rapidly comes to regret doing so. Not only does he have
to keep switching his identity, from himself to his loathsome brother and
back again, he doesn't have a moment's rest as the exhausting marathon blazes
across the country, cheered by crowds of excited on-lookers. Fair play
is not something that any of his competitors seem to know the meaning of,
so, in addition to keeping up his increasingly ludicrous pretence, Modeste
must work hard to thwart his rivals' attempts to knock him out of the race.
Needless to say, this is one episode in his life that the watchman will not
look back on in his old age with any fondness, but at least he ends up winning
the prize he most craves - Aline.
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.