Le Schpountz (1999) - film review

Irénée Fabre has one dream – to become a great film actor.  It’s no small ambition for a man who lives in deepest Provence and spends his days working in his uncle’s modest grocery business.  Then, one day, he meets a film crew who are scouring the region for a film location.   Irénée wastes no time trying to impress the film crew who, as a joke, give him a bogus contract for a role in a movie.   Believing that his time has come, Irénée sets out for Paris for what he believes will be the start of a glittering career...

One of the most contentious issues in the world of cinema is the justification (or lack thereof) for the remake.  Since no producer in his right mind would consider remaking a bad film, it’s a sure bet that the only candidates for the remake treatment are those films which made an impact the first time round.  But if the original film was so good, then surely this provides an impossible benchmark against which the remake will me compared.  Almost by definition, any remake is destined to be a failure.  At best, it will be as good as the original film – but what’s the point of that?  Is there any artistic or moral justification in copying someone else’s work?

Perhaps the only sound case for the remake is if a director can bring a new interpretation of an earlier film, so that the two films can be judged separately.  Merely re-shooting an old black-and-white film in colour and updating it by sixty years is unlikely to achieve this – although this is precisely what Gérard Oury did with his remake of Marcel Pagnol’s classic 1938 film Le Schpountz.  It was not the director’s finest hour.

This was the last film to be directed by Oury, and came after a series of spectacular misfires which progressively eroded the reputation he had earned for himself in the 1960s with such box office hits as Le Corniaud (1965) and La Grande vadrouille (1966).  In itself, it’s not entirely a bad film.  There are some good jokes, good location photography (evocative of Pagnol’s own work) and some engaging performances from the lead actors Smaïn and Sabine Azéma.

Unfortunately, anyone who has seen the original film will inevitably make comparisons with that film, and it’s obvious that Oury’s film isn’t in the same league.  The main problem is that, Smaïn, competent and likeable actor that he is, is a poor substitute for Fernandel, the star of Pagnol’s film.  Whereas Fernandel has a naturally gauche persona which carries an aura of pathos and vulnerability, Smaïn comes across as far too confident and you never doubt for one moment that he won’t succeed.

Oury’s film has some charm but it lacks the spontaneity, depth and honesty of Pagnol’s film – the characters are far less convincing, the narrative too plodding and predictable.  If there is a case for why old films should not be remade, then this film makes it quite resoundingly.

© James Travers 2007

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