Several years ago, I had this idea of making a film about a superhero whose name would be "Cinéman". His superpowers would those of cinema : travellings, flashbacks, fades, and so on.
Yann Moix had the very same idea of a title, but without any ounce of subtlety behind.
His first movie "Podium", adapted from one of his (numerous lame) books, was a complete success and a good comedy. It had succeeded because the whole movie had been made almost exclusively for one great man : Benoît Poelvoorde. It was actually the main character of the film that fitted the belgian actor, who over the years had been playing many roles, on big and small screens, in Belgium and in France, of miserly lothable bastards full of themselves who treated everyone like shit. Moreover, this also fitted perfectly the subject of the french pop singer Claude François, as himself was famous for being a big jerk with a despicable sense of superiority.
In fact, when Moix asked the hugest belgian actor ever (still Poelvoorde here) to play in the movie he had written, Poelvoorde told him he wouldn't do it unless Moix first came through publishing it as a book - which Moix did, even if the book resulted in not being interesting at all.
Anyway, after this big success, Moix wanted to write another movie for Poelvoorde. He then started making "Cinéman", but Poelvoorde and him disagreed 'about something', and finally this second movie which had also been made for Poelvoorde, had to be played by Franck Dubosc (not a bad actor but way less capable than the other, and certainly not as good as a 'miserly bastard').
There was a problem with the sound of the movie, so let's not be intolerant here, and do forget about the fact that it is a bit unbearable to see actors speaking with unsynced lips... It gives the impression the movie is badly played, like an episode of some old telenovela such as "The Bold and the Beautiful".
If you consider the plot of the movie, there is, as it were, NO such thing here. Only an incoherent story, the writer did not care to give us *even an absurd* reason for what happens.
If you like Japan and its culture as I do, you probably won't like the fact that, as always, a Vietnamese girl plays the only so-called 'japanese' character, nor the fact that Dubosc does not speak at all with an accent from Ôsaka, nor the fact that he actually does not speak japanese at all in some scenes were there still are foolish subtitles, nor the fact that the word "manga" and "anime" got mixed together once again, nor the fact that a portray of Ozu is displayed on the wall of the japanese restaurant (while so many Japanese people do not give a shit about their masters of cinema). Actually, unless you are as racist as Moix proved to be here, you will not like what was going on there.
I most certainly am the best public for comedy ever, for any form of humor makes me laugh. Here, though, _absolutely nothing_ made me laugh at all.
Had not Lucy Gordon committed suicide just after the shooting of the film and before it was out, Yann Moix might have been able to recognize there was no talent at all in his work (sua culpa) and thus could have decided not to show it to anyone (yet, he has smartly decided not to publish the book he has written before turning it into a screenplay).
Still, not only did he unfortunately decided to show it, but also to dedicate it to poor Lucy Gordon. She was a great actress and certainly did not deserve such an insult...
Of course, I was pleased by :
- seeing Marisa Berenson play Lady Lyndon again for three seconds,
- the many other references to the history of cinema,
- all the good pieces of music used,
- the way Moix used vivid colors again (he had already done it in his previous movie, but probably does not know it tends to be a bit godardesque - this would have killed him...),
- hearing a song by Anne Sylvestre (maybe for the first time in my life at the cinema, or so do I think)
- hearing the most important quote ever for any fan of the "nanar" genre in France (Chuck Norris, in "
Braddock: Missing in Action III" : "I don't step on toes, I step on necks.", which became in french : "Je mets les pieds où j'veux, et c'est souvent dans la gueule !").
But knowing a lot of good references does not mean one has taste. And Yann Moix has no taste at all. He just namedrops Rossellini, Kubrick, Murnau and Keaton because he has learnt a lot of things a grey parrot might be able to repeat, but pretending to like those essential artists and hating at the same time no less essential artists such as Georges Brassens, Abdel Kechiche, or Paul Thomas Anderson, proves he is only a reactionary uncultured moron. Moix does not give any good reason for hating intellectual things, or at least no reason other than the fact that truly intellectual people _do like these things_ ; hence he just keeps on telling his hate for any form of intellect (which might be called "jealousy" ?). But when it comes to the subject of loving popular stupidities such as Louis De Funès or Claude François, Moix suddenly becomes
inexhaustible...Finally, this movie should have been the one Thierry Ardisson had the idea of in the seventies (as he too had a similar idea with a similar title).Finally, "Last Action Hero" was already so very complete in this "genre" (the genre where someone goes into the 'wonderland' of cinema), that you'd better watch it even for the 20th times than ever having the idea of watching "Cinéman" once.
PS : I would like some psychanalist to explain me why the 'homes' in Yann Moix's movies always have 'problems' (as it seems 'drawing homes' has always been a great way to analyze children). In "Podium" there was a test-house and a locker room, and here in "Cinéman" it is an abandoned building receiving asbestos removal...
Nothing much original in this movie, except the fact that it's the first time François Damiens gets such a non-comical character. And also, the fact that it was out in theaters just 2 weeks after Jocelyn Quivrin's death.
It is so rare to see feminism nowadays in a movie, and above all in a movie that you can see in theaters. The only way you could not learn, laugh, cry, while watching this masterpiece documentary, would be because you are anti-feminist (and therefore, one of the morons we had a glimpse at, in it). Or worse, you could be Éric Zemmour, who actually tried to stop "La domination masculine" from being shown to the world (how can someone be so proud of their penis when they actually don't have balls ?).
A beautiful adaptation of McCarty's story about a father and his son being among the last "carrying the fire" of humanity, in a world that falls apart.
Despite a good trailer showing the audience attending the public premiere of the film and freaking out, there is almost nothing but some stupid american standard couple (he's a wannabe homeworking trader, she's a student, they live in a huge house in San Diego...) with the weird idea of filming themselves while asleep, and hoping to catch a demon...
The best scene of this movie is, obviously, the last one, the one with the concert announced by the title. The one in which Mélanie Laurent actually entered a trance state whilst filming (sic).
As he said himself prior to the projection, it's something to watch as if we were under the influence of hallucination mushrooms, which, seconded by Christopher Doyle's mad cinematography, proves to be the best way to appreciate this wonderful flick.
