After making a successful directing debut with Tête à claques
(1982), the prolific actor of stage and screen Francis Perrin had another
box office hit with this similarly constructed lightweight sex comedy, in
which he again takes the lead role.
Here, Perrin is Frank, a smooth Don Juan-type for whom seduction of the fair sex
comes as naturally as breathing. His friend and flat mate Bernard (Sylvain Rougerie)
could not be more different. He is an old-fashioned romantic who dreams of
the perfect love idyll with the ideal soul mate - his difficulty is that
he lacks the confidence to even open a conversation with a girl who catches his eye.
It is out of desperation that Bernard begs his friend to use his seductive powers
to help him catch his perfect partner. Frank is more than willing to help his flatmate but the target
of his seduction, an attractive woman doctor, proves to be far more strongly
attracted to him than Bernard. Quelle surprise...
Le Joli coeur is hardly a classic - and it is hard to see how it managed to attract an audience of
1.7 million - but it has its charms and some genuinely funny moments despite
its rambling plot and frequent bursts of silliness. The scene in which
Perrin gets off on the wrong foot with a lunatic psychiatrist (Jean-Paul
Farré) is silly beyond belief, but it gets the biggest laughs.
By contrast, the running gag about a brain transplant and split personality
soon runs out of steam and starts to feel like an aching blister. Some
moments of forced sentimentality do not help matters (this is a failing that
is sadly common to all of the films that Perrin directed) but you forgive
these because Perrin's sense of fun is so disarming and infectious.
After this, Francis Perrin would direct one more film - the even more comicbook-like
Ça n'arrive qu'à moi (1985) - before concentrating on
what he does best: serious acting.
American film comedy had its heyday in the 1920s and '30s, but it remains an important genre and has given American cinema some of its enduring classics.
In his letters to his friends and family, Franz Kafka gives us a rich self-portrait that is surprisingly upbeat, nor the angst-ridden soul we might expect.