The author of OSS 117takes the chaotic shooting of a zombie film to transcend everything into a hilarious blood-red comedy starring Romain Duris and Bérénice BEjo. Quivering with pleasure. Don’t miss this Monday, September 11 at 8:50 p.m. on Ca&nal + Frisson and on MyCanal.
It’s not just in rugby that bodies bleed. Cinema can offer great bursts of it. Here, the actors are lousy, the film execrable, the director at the end of his tether. However, this is only the beginning.
What’s the point of this zombie story that takes place in an abandoned shopping center? All the ingredients of the nanar are united. Very quickly, Michel Hazanavicius turn the tide. Here’s the bottom line. We then have a making of the previous episodes. Sharp minds will speak of mise en abyme. Simple souls will see in this the opportunity for a great laugh. The second degree, the wink, the offbeat, the author of OSS 117 is fully in his element. What a treat to shiver with laughter! No wonder this extraordinary film received a wonderful reception on the Croisette in 2022, when it was screened out of competition at the opening of the Cannes Film Festival.
The spectator asks for more
By unceremoniously adapting a Japanese Z series, the very skillful filmmaker has a field day, pulling the rug out from under the feet of the viewer who asks for more. Under the icy gaze of a Japanese producer, it is a question of filming live a dark intrigue of the living dead. Deal. We don’t know what the original version contained: the French result deserves all the praise.
This hilarious apology for the D system delights from the first to the last image. The laughter bursts out. It feels like we’re back in the good old days of Saturday night cinema. Hemoglobin covers the walls. Heads fly without warning. Blood drips down on the heroes. The zombies move as if they have stuck their finger in a socket. The money is missing. The tricks fail. We’ll manage anyway. The main actor swears by “Lars”, thinks he must be genius or nothing. The pole operator, played by an irresistible Raphaël Quenard, is experiencing some intestinal problems.
Honoring the memory of the seventh art
Romain Duris, he is the director in charge of this announced fiasco, swings slaps and drags his performers through the mud. The director is married to the main actress, which does not help the atmosphere of the shooting. Fortunately, their daughter is there, who has no tongue in her pocket and is full of timely finds. Bérénice Bejo wields the ax with jubilation. Grégory Gadebois sneakily gets drunk on sake. He can no longer stand up. Finnegan Oldfield is painted blue like a Smurf, he, the cerebral.
The gags are multiplying, too numerous to retain them all. A rumor runs. A sect would be at the origin of these mysteries which trouble the set. And what is this strange blood star drawn on the ground? A clumsy person screws up the crane. Too bad about the tracking shots. Improvisation is essential. The plans are saved at the last minute. The screen overflows with the joy of having a camera in your hands, multiplying the opportunities to honor the memory of the seventh art. This bloody, crazy and controlled object makes you dizzy.
Michel Hazanavicius signs his American Night reviewed by Mel Brooks and George A. Romero. Next, Tarantino almost looks like Rohmer. Until the end, the surprise was there. The title had to be changed at the last moment. Z like Z became Cut!. Is this imperative about film, an actor who is too bad or a hair in the neck? All three, no doubt. And if there are dead, they are dead from laughter