Fantômas contre Scotland Yard (1967)
Directed by André Hunebelle

Film Review

Fantômas, re-invented for the 1960s as a malignant green skinned alien with a penchant for James Bond-like gadgetry, turns from super-villain to souped-up tax collector in this third and final outing under the direction of André Hunebelle.  Fantômas (1964) and Fantômas se déchaîne (1965) had both been so successful (each drew an audience in excess of four million) that a third film was an easy sell, and so Jean Marais was once more persuaded to return in the dual role of Fantômas / Fandor, with Louis de Funès providing comedy support as the bungling idiot police chief Juve.  It's an all too obvious attempt to try and cash in on the success of similar movies - notably the early James Bond films and Pink Panther movies - but by now the French cinema-going public had already grown tired of such half-baked imitations.  Fantômas contre Scotland Yard garnered a respectable audience of 3.6 million, but this was small beer compared with the 17.3 million that de Funès had achieved with his previous film, La Grand vadrouille (1966).

After various campaigns of terror intended to wreak havoc on the civilised world (Fu Manchu and Charles Aznavour were clearly his role models), Monsieur Fantômas now appears to be a reformed character.  There's only so much fun you can have from stealing jewels and threatening to take over the world with weapons of mass destruction, so our cute little alien friend decides to have a dalliance with progressive taxation - foisting a right-to-live tax on the super-duper-rich.  Fantômas really is moving into virgin territory here - in the entire history of humankind, there has never been a government that would attempt such a drastic thing as getting the mega-affluent to pay their fair share of tax.  But Fantômas is no ordinary being.  He doesn't have to face the wrath of the electorate, corporate lobbies or nonplussed media magnates.  If he wants to tax the richest people on Earth he can do it - and there's no one who can stop him!  Not even Inspector Juve.  Least of all Inspector Juve...

So Fantômas is now well and truly the good guy.  Talk about image makeover.  In Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain's original stories (and Louis Feuillade's subsequent film adaptations) Fantômas was an elusive ghoul who delighted in murder and mayhem, the kind who would casually fillet his own grandmother if he knew he could get a few centimes for her withered bones.  Now, in Hunebelle's Fantômas films, which were admittedly made in the morally confused 1960s, he is suddenly a hero. We don't just like him - we actually cheer every time he scores a victory over that nauseating do-gooder Fandor and the utterly inept Inspector Juve.  Is there any other series of film in which the central criminal protagonist always gets the last laugh, whilst the supposed champions of virtue and justice get resoundingly humiliated?

Could this possibly be a reflection of the anti-establishment mood that was bubbling up in France in the '60s?  Juve and Fandor may be on the side of the angels but they are establishment figures, to be mocked rather than sympathised with.  When you've grown sick of their sort telling you what to do and what to think inevitably you end up siding with mavericks, drop-outs and outcasts like Fantômas.  And who wouldn't?  Yes, his skin tone is a bit on the verdant side, and his habit of killing people is a tad anti-social,  but just look at his dress sense - he has more style and sex appeal than James Bond, Jason King and Emma Peel combined.  Austin Powers probably has posters of him plastered all over his groovy bachelor pad.

Fantômas in Scotland?  There has be a Loch Ness Monster gag in there somewhere?  But no, not so much as a whiff of one (just an off-the-cuff 'we won't go there' comment).  It is the film's cruellest omission and a sign perhaps that the well of inspiration has well and truly dried up.  Fantômas as a latterday Robin Hood - that is a nice idea.  But Juve chasing after men with white sheets over their heads, having a conversation with a horse and being driven about on a motorised bed?  Mistress subtlety appears to have walked out on this one.  Without de Funès's extraordinary flair for improvisational comedy Fantômas contre Scotland Yard would have been a grimly unhumourous affair, unlikely to raise a titter from even an easily pleased ten-year-old.  If the scripted gags are awful the plot is risible - it feels like it was thrown together in five minutes without any thought.  It's just a silly infantile run-around that is basically just an excuse for our friendly neighbourhood shape-shifter to humiliate Juve and Fandor over and over and over again.

And then there is the on-set rivalry.  By this stage, Louis de Funès and Jean Marais had grown to hate each other so much that they could hardly stand to appear in the same scene, which explains why they are kept apart for so much of the film (not an easy task when Marais is supposed to be playing both de Funès's opponent and his ally).  This mutual antagonism comes through in both of their performances - de Funès appears tense and lacks the spontaneity that he brought to his other film comedies; Marais looks totally unenthused and it is now painfully evident that he is just too old for the part of the romantic action hero.  A more capable director might have been able to capitalise on the obvious tension between the two lead actors, but Hunebelle just seems to muddle through, as he did on all of his films, showing no real verve or commitment.  Mylène Demongeot ends up as no more than a pretty adornment to Marais's inflated ego and it's tragic to see an actor as capable as Henri Serre (one of the leads in François Truffaut's Jules et Jim, made just five years previously) now reduced to an insignficant supporting role in such a lowbrow crowdpleaser.

Its script shortcomings notwithstanding, Fantômas contre Scotland Yard still manages to be an enjoyable romp - arguably, it is the most entertaining of the three Fantômas films, despite its unabashed silliness.  What saves it (in addition to de Funès's comic genius) is its slick production design, which has that eccentric, garish look which was common to most spy/fantasy films and television series of the era, admirably complemented by a suitably lush score from the great Michel Magne.  André Hunebelle's Fantômas films hardly rate as comedy classics but they have that unmistakable sense of  '60s kitsch cool and they're every bit as classy as the Bond films and The Avengers episodes that were made in this, the coolest of decades.

In the middle of the film there is a beautifully shot sequence - a fox hunt that suddenly turns into a horseback abduction, with Fantômas's henchman arrayed in their trademark black cagoules (a pleasing nod to Feuillade's films).  This is completely superfluous to the plot, clearly it is intended just to pad the film out by another twenty minutes, but it provides a desperately needed shot of momentum after the film's unbearably static first third.  Hunebelle only really came into his own when he was directing pacey swashbucklers - Cadet Rousselle (1954), Le Bossu (1959) and Le Capitan (1960) are all better examples of his work - so it's no surprise that the parts of his Fantômas films that hold up best today are the action sequences.  Marais did the stunts; de Funès did the gags.  And never the twain did meet.

Film Synopsis

The criminal mastermind Fantômas has turned over a new leaf.  Instead of terrorising humanity with his dastardly schemes he intends becoming its benefactor, by imposing a right-to-live tax on the super-rich.  His first 'client' is Lord MacRashley, who resides in a reputedly haunted castle in Scotland.  Unbeknown to MacRashley, his secretary, André Berthier, has been having an affair with his wife, Lady Dorothée - these two have everything to gain from Lord MacRashley's premature demise.  Seeing an opportunity to get rich quick, Berthier falls in with a consortium of the world's most successful hoodlums, with the objective of hijacking Fantômas's money-making scheme.  When the fearsome crime lord discovers this plot, he turns the tables on his enemies and makes them liable for the same exorbitant tax arrangement.   Determined not to give in to Fantômas, Lord MacRashley summons Inspector Juve to his Scottish residence with the hope of capturing the criminal when he makes his final demand.  Yet again, Juve is no match for his opponent's cunning.  Whilst the police inspector is chasing fake ghosts, his arch-enemy murders MacRashley and takes his place.  In his new disguise, Fantômas can carry out his tax gathering machinations, with Juve now acting as his unwitting servant...