Alexandre le bienheureux (1968)
Directed by Yves Robert

Film Review

A rural fable intended merely to entertain, or a canny foretaste of the dramatic upheavals which were to come just a few months after its release in 1968?  When Yves Robert made Alexandre le bienheureux, a film based on his own novel, he could hardly have known the significance it would subsequently acquire, as a cute but cogent anti-authority, anti-capitalist statement, but what is most surprising about this film is how relevant it seems today.  Who cannot warm to the idea of walking away from the ulcer-inducing rat race and pursuing a life of blissful indolence, ambling through sunny cornfields, lying lazily on the riverbank and training your hyper-intelligent pet dog to beg, borrow and steal all that your stomach craves?  Okay, so it's absurdly idealistic but the film makes its point, in a similar vein to that other French classic, Rene Clair's À nous la liberté (1931).  Man is not born to be a slave to mindless drudgery.  Man is his own master (until the day he gets a wedding ring on his finger, that is).

Alexandre le bienheureux is one of Yves Robert's most delightful films, ranking alongside his earlier La Guerre des boutons (1962) in its buccolic charm and anticipating his subsequent hit comedies.   As he would later do in his celebrated diptych La Gloire de mon père (1990) / Le Château de ma mère (1990), Robert saturates nearly every frame of the film with the exquisite natural beauty of the French countryside, whilst also capturing for posterity the rural way of life (circa 1970), perhaps more vividly than any other filmmaker of his generation (in this respect, he was a worthy successor to his hero, Marcel Pagnol).  Whilst the film has something of the saccharine sweetness of the old Lassie films (albeit with a photogenic little dog which manages to surpass both Lassie and Hergé's Milou in the charisma and cerebral stakes), it is shot through with subversive humour, amid a seemingly endless series of the juiciest visual gags outside a Buster Keaton film.  This is a film that operates at many levels, appealing as much to children as it does to adults, and no wonder it was a commercial hit on its first release (attracting an audience of over two million) and remains a much-loved classic of French cinema.

This was the film that gave actor Philippe Noiret his big break, establishing him as one of France's most successful, and most highly regarded, screen actors.   Noiret had previously appeared in supporting roles in such films as Louis Malle's Zazie dans le métro (1960) and Jean-Paul Rappeneau's La Vie de château (1966), but it was his sympathetic portrayal of the contented sloth-like rebel in Alexandre le bienheureux that made him a star and pretty well defined his screen persona.   With his easygoing, avuncular charm, Noiret is perfect for the part, although he does come close to being almost totally eclipsed by his equally charismatic canine co-star, Kaly, whose acting career, alas, was limited to this one film.  (In this reviewer's opinion at least, Kaly is far more deserving of the Cannes Palm Dog award than Uggy, the scene-stealing pooch in Michel Hazanavicius's 2011 silent homage The Artist.)

Needless to say, with two such strong lead performers, the supporting cast hardly gets much of a look in, not that there is any shortage of talent.  Prominent in the comedy chorus are two actors who would shortly become major stars in their own right - Marlène Jobert and Pierre Richard - and French film addicts will have no trouble spotting Tsilla Chelton, the maiden aunt from Hell in Etienne Chatiliez's Tatie Danielle (1990).  Jean Carmet, another well-known comic character actor, is on hand to lend some comedy muscle when required and the camera-friendly Françoise Brion strikes her blow for women's lib (setting the cause back by at least ten years) as Alexandre's despotic wife.  A cast of this calibre is hardly necessary when you have such a superb duo as Philippe Noiret and an impossibly cute dog laying claim to virtually every last photon of the limelight but it helps to beef up the gag quotient and adds lustre to what is assuredly one of Yves Robert's most enjoyable and timely comedies.  Add to that a memorable theme song (Le Ciel, la terre et l'eau) performed by Eurovision Song Contest winner Isabelle Aubret and you can immediately see why the film is so fondly remembered.  If this doesn't make you give up your busy city lifestyle and embrace the rural idyll, nothing will.

Film Synopsis

All that Alexandre wants is to live a quiet life, to be as free and contented as the birds and beasts of his treasured countryside.  Unfortunately, he is married to someone who acts like a one-woman Fascist dictatorship, expecting him to spend every waking hour working at full tilt on their extensive farm.  When Alexandre's wife dies in a car accident, he can hardly believe his good fortune.  At last, he is a free man, and can live as he chooses.  So, naturally, he decides to spend the rest of his life in bed, relying on his little dog to fetch whatever provisions he needs from the village shop.  Alexandre's conduct is considered scandalous by his neighbours, who do everything they can to drive him from his bed.   Alexandre holds out, defiant in his happy indolence, until he is visited by Agathe, the attractive grocer's daughter, who has made up her mind to marry him...