As Long As You've Got Your Health (1966)

Pierre Étaix, in collaboration with Jean-Claude Carrière, presents in the so-called An Entertainment in Four Acts, an uproariously funny worldview of the modern society. Although made in the 60s, "As Long As You've Got Your Health" (1966), an anthology of four comic shorts, is as relevant today, as the time it was conceived.

All four shorts are loosely related in the way they serve as a biting commentary on the excesses of modernization, consumerism, urbanization and its associated effects on human life,  albeit exaggerated to absurd proportions for comedic effect.

In the first segment "Insomnia", Étaix sits with a vampire novel in bed. The sheer ingenuity on display is extraordinary in the way a simple activity like reading a book is turned into an extended visual gag. A tiny detail like even the transparent cover of a book manages to develop into a funny idea and you are left applauding with amazement as the material that Étaix's character reads, visually manifests into what looks like a silent era vampire film.

Actions repeat, or are sometimes seen upside down, in a visual translation of his handling of the book. The story in the novel unfolds and its reader gets increasingly unsettled, especially when he starts to imagine things. The effectiveness of fiction, the craze, the captivating power of this form of art, and the way in which we literally let a story become a part of our reality is illustrated with this subtly funny and clever segment.

Next up is the visit to "The Movies", a superb, well observed episode that satirizes every minute detail that is associated with the activity of going to the cinemas. The long queues, the robotic movements, audiences least interested in the film and only interested in sleeping or chatting or making out, while the genuine ones waiting to get a glimpse of the screen struggle with their seating arrangement; all familiar aspects covered in a riotous fashion.

The segment takes a wildly surreal turn when the commercials on the screen meld with the reality of the protagonist, as he finds himself visiting an entire family that's a living, breathing, commercial with advertising products in day to day conversations, being a part of their lifestyle! This is the most unnerving segment of the lot with some urgent and restless jazz score in the background, infused to accentuate the effect of a relentless assault of sales commercials in the visual media, enslaving the audiences, and nurturing the consumerist/materialist culture prevalent in society. This is perhaps the best segment of the four.

The third episode is the title segment that shifts focus to the aspect of rapid industrialization and urbanization, and its detrimental effects on the peace and well-being of an individual. And therefore, it opens on an almost apocalyptic but hilarious note that sees an entire city trembling from the vibrations of large machines doing road repair work, as cranes, cars, and other contraptions add to the noise and air pollution. Entire structures begin to feel the tremors, indoors as well as outdoors.

The fast life and lack of peace leads to an inevitable stress for mostly all individuals including a doctor himself who becomes a bundle of nerves even in the process of prescribing medicines! And in the midst of all this is yet another media/ad campaign urging everyone to keep smiling, no matter how bad the situation in the street on a regular, chaotic city day! The crowd complies with the smiling campaign, while the chaos continues, resulting in a wickedly funny situation of conflicting reactions; and yet very much the sad reality of our existence. Aren't we all left with no choice but to smile through all the mundane rigmaroles?

The final section shifts the action to a more serene atmosphere in the country, away from the city hustle and bustle. A hunter out to get some fowl in a farm land, inadvertently becomes a catalyst troublemaker for a couple of picnickers and a farmer trying to fix a fence around his field. The comedy in this segment may seem to be a tad repetitive or borderline silly, but its essence, the transportation to the country, is the real take-home.

Despite escaping from the troubles of the city, a city-bred couple can never find any real peace of mind, no matter how far away they go, and will always carry their problems with them, even literally, in the form of an overfilled bag with unnecessary urban items, something that more or less destroys the very purpose of a quiet country outing.

Lost for many years along with other Étaix films, the restored version of "As Long as You've Got Your Health" is technically well-accomplished, and meticulously structured. Pierre Étaix's comic timing is impeccable and the visual gags are mostly great and well executed, barring some exceptions that border on the juvenile. Each segment uses a visibly distinct colour tone.

A grainier, rougher picture texture is used for the vampire episode to give it a look of the silent era, against the more polished, sharper look rendered to the present day scenario. Some finer quirks add to the humour quotient much to our amusement. For example, one cannot help but smile when characters reappear across segments, especially the couple in the theater and their numerous but failed, interrupted attempts at making out!

Add "As Long As You’ve Got Your Health" to your watch-list. It is just above an hour full of visual entertainment that's sure to tickle your funny bone. A constant smile and occasional peals of laughter guaranteed!

Score: 8/10

Dans La Maison (In The House) (2012)

It all begins innocuously, in a Literature class, after Professor Germain Germain (Fabrice Luchini) asks his students to write an essay on how they spent their weekend. Most of the essays submitted are completely worthless and lacking any kind of creativity, but one particular write-up catches Germain's eye. Claude Garcia (Ernst Umhauer), a relatively bright 16-year old, describes in a rather enticing manner, a weekend visit to his best friend Rapha's house to help him with his Math.

The description turns out to be much more sensational than mundane, as the writer expresses his somewhat unsavoury desires to explore the house further, and dig deeper into its inhabitants, the characters of his essay, especially Rapha's beautiful mother, Esther (Emanuelle Seigner) who is at the center of Claude's voyeuristic gaze.

Claude's essay ends with a suspenseful 'to be continued' remark, and raises the curiosity of not only the professor but also his art-dealer wife, Jeanne (Kristin Scott Thomas). Before they know it, they are hooked; like soap opera or reality show addicts!

Germain, guided by his wife's penchant for substance, prods Claude to write succeeding chapters, claiming that he has great writing talent and should cultivate it by continuing this family drama in a novel format. Of course, continuing the story would mean more visits to Rapha's house. As Claude turns in daily chapters, developing the story into a fascinating family yarn, sometimes of a scandalous nature, Germain and Jeanne take vicarious pleasure in a reality show they cannot see. Only it is soon too late, when things start to get out of control not only in Rapha's household but also in Germain's life at the cost of building a great story!

François Ozon's "Dans La Maison" or "In the House" (2012) plays out in a rather farcical fashion, like a breezy comedy for the most part, but Ozon succeeds in conveying certain pertinent themes, and raises several questions about the human consumption of sensationalism and the inherent existence of a voyeur in practically every human being despite their hypocritical denial. He makes us muse about human curiosity in general, and the undeniable fact that people do find an intrigue in the lives of others, more importantly when there are downs rather than ups in them! After all who is interested in monotony? It is only when there are ripples, that notice is taken.

Ozon examines a consumer's never ending hunger for something outlandish, by subtly blurring the line between the guide and the guided, the manipulator and the manipulated, as they appear to switch places. Whilst Germain is guiding Claude to build his narrative, he in turn becomes a slave to Claude's writing, often becoming dependent on it, and even compromising his ethics when it threatens to come to an end. Further blurred is the line between fiction and reality, for we see events only from Claude's perspective as he narrates the words in his write-ups. But how much of it is real and how much is made up, is largely unknown, partly because we do see an instance of a modified event, reshaped at the behest of Germain himself, on the pretext of pleasing the reader.

A notable parallel subplot involves Jeanne's art gallery and her desperate struggle to keep it afloat and save it from shutting down by having the best of exhibits and boosting sales. She keeps bringing new artworks and seeks Germain's opinions on them, who often comments about whether a particular art form will sell or not. An important reading to be made here is about art for the sake of art and its viability for commercialism. The credibility of an artwork is decided on its marketability and in this regard, Germain always seems to care about an art piece only if he thinks it will sell.

Germain's sentiments are more or less in the same vein when guiding Claude with his novella, except in this case, he claims he is doing it to groom a literary genius, a budding writer; something that he couldn't become, with only a failed romantic novel to his credit. And yet, it is clear as much to the viewer, that he is indeed, more driven by the voyeuristic consumer inside him, for he tastes blood in Claude's sensational story. Only when the sensationalism appears to go way out of hand, he makes a very smart remark invoking the great Italian auteur Pier Paolo Pasolini, one which is certain to bring a smile on the faces of the fans of "Teorema" (1968).

The main theme is reflected in an important sequence by means of an offbeat artwork that Jeanne demonstrates; an audio artwork. The artist verbally describes the artwork and the listener is allowed to (re)create it with his/her interpretation or imagination of the artist's intention. It pretty much mirrors the essence of reading a novel and the very activity Germain is involved in with Claude. Claude writes, and Germain creates a mental picture of Rapha's family in his mind!

Ozon goes on to have some fun himself with the narrative device, and demonstrates the power of cinema and how the medium can be manipulated to suit viewer expectations and requirements. Just as Prof. Germain alters certain events in Claude's writings to meet reader expectations, Ozon toys around with absurdity, creating very interesting meta-moments in which he places Germain himself at the very heart of the action, in the house, which is the center of Claude's beguiling story. It is a very intricately constructed, meticulous screenplay which pays a fitting homage to Alfred Hitchcock's "Rear Window" (1954), one of the earliest cinematic depictions of voyeurism.

Despite the delicious oddities, originality and intelligence that "In the House" certainly possesses, it does feel like Ozon somehow refrains from pushing the envelope. The narrative seems restrained and appears to become stagnant and just slightly monotonous after a point. Furthermore, in the process of providing an ending, much like Claude in the film, Ozon takes some abruptly clumsy turns that fail to convince.

Ozon has made better films than "In the House", but there is no doubt that this is one of the most unique and premium offerings in his filmography. 

Score: 8/10

Le Grand Amour (1969)

"Le Grand Amour" (1969) is a delightful, surrealist French comedy, a celebration of free form filmic narrative that employs a wholly playful visual approach to the stream of consciousness device. A routine plot of a bourgeois French businessman falling for his beautiful young secretary is given a refreshingly original and unconventional treatment that would please the fans of Luis Bunuel and older silent era slapstick comedies alike.

Etaix's film is not so much about the premise than it is about its highly inventive stylistic methods of storytelling. It is a testament to the power of cinematic language in conveying the infinite ideas and feelings that occupy the complex human mind. The entire film is narrated by the lead character Pierre, played by writer-director Pierre Étaix, who taps the medium of the motion picture to his maximum advantage in order to tell his story and reveal his deepest thoughts in a visually enchanting, and entertaining manner that has to be seen to be believed.

Random musings of the brain come alive in flashbacks resulting in hilarious visuals. "When I think about it, I could have married lots of others", Pierre muses and instantly we see Pierre getting married to a whole gang of brides! We see, as Pierre narrates. Every little detail of his thought process, no matter how whimsical and absurd, manifests itself visually on screen.

Etaix's comic flair ensures that despite a wafer thin plot, the viewer is hooked and thoroughly entertained throughout the duration of the film. Etaix fulfills the challenge rather effortlessly by showcasing an all-round talent of superlative acting, great writing and its equally great transformation to the screen. A Bunuel-esque bourgeois take-down is evident in the depiction of the mannered existence of Pierre's wife Florence's (Annie Fratellini) family. A wildly funny propagation of a grapevine among gossipy older women shows how Pierre's innocuous doff of the hat to a lady in the park turns into a full-on romp in the bushes!

Ironically, the distortions of facts are not limited to the ladies that Etaix satirizes. He lets the audiences have a good laugh on his own self in that superb gag in which he cannot make up his mind as to where he met Florence, whether on the terrace of a café or inside it. As he switches constantly between the locations, the vexed waiter who is actually part of the recollection jumps out of the story and asks him to make up his mind!

In other funny instances, we see exact contradictions to what Pierre is imagining or narrating. A striking example is the very ignorant notion of how he might have broken two hearts, those of his childhood sweethearts by deciding to marry Florence. Ditto for that deliriously absurd turn in which he declares to Florence's mother that he had decided not to marry Florence, and yet we see them getting married eventually. Or even that very universal bit in which local perceptions of Pierre's marriage are thwarted by juxtaposing disheartening gossip against a visibly healthy marital coexistence.

Considering Pierre's system of habitation and the fact that he has in a way, married into Florence's family perhaps makes him feel suffocated. Pierre and Florence reside just a storey above his in-laws and the fact that he has taken over his father-in-law's tannery business, makes him feel uncomfortable, a situation from which he seeks freedom of the mind. This freedom comes in the form of the comely young secretary, Agnes (Nicole Calfan), all of eighteen, with an extremely cute, innocent face, but not the strictly naïve kind either.

Pierre, who feels he got married much earlier in age and perhaps agreeing that it was wrong to marry a woman his own age, now begins to feel an unrelenting attraction to the much younger Agnes. Etaix makes the viewer see through Pierre's lens as the camera looks lovingly at Agnes, almost as if seeking the viewer's approval about how it is not unnatural for a bored man in his 30s to fall for her charms!

Astonishingly, we almost always see Agnes through the eyes of Pierre and his wildly outrageous fantasies, the best of which comes in the form of the extraordinary bed-on-wheels segment, when Pierre embarks on a hauntingly beautiful dream, snug in bed with Agnes in a teeny nightie; except they aren't really making love on this bed, just lying in each other's arms and travelling freely, as the bed glides along on its wheels (!) along an empty but beautiful country road. Along the way, they pass other dreamers-on-beds by, one of them perhaps a hospital bed, with a man in a cast!

The USP of the film are these fantasies and the seamless blending of these sequences with reality, in a marvelous job of editing which is intelligently thought out, carefully executed, and far from random. The comedic flavor of course, adds to the entertainment quotient, almost to the same degree as the jaw-dropping imagination, a product of the combined genius of Etaix and the great Jean-Claude Carriere. It is interesting to note, that the slapstick part mostly comes only during the bits which aren't strictly real, in a way as to mock the absurdity of stories told, either through a grapevine or through someone’s wild imagination.

Ultimately, "Le Grand Amour" becomes a unique venture that combines slapstick with the psychological realm, thereby distinguishing itself from the considerably broader, literal action oriented comedy of the silent era, and yet retaining its entire comic flavor, evident from a whole lot of incredibly funny moments sprinkled throughout. The heightened colours and use of buoyant music beautifully complement the film's joyful universe.

The only tiny grouse that bothers is the wrapped-up ending that comes off as very convenient and visibly lacking in ingenuity as compared to what comes before it. The cyclical as well as prophetic form that the conclusion takes, making the gossip mongers happy comes off as a bit too conventional for a film so remarkably offbeat.

It is a minor speck that deserves forgiveness, however, for by that point, Etaix has your heart conquered with his charming ode to free love.

Score: 10/10