J'y suis... j'y reste (1954)
Directed by Maurice Labro

Film Review

Adapted from a stage play of same title by Raymond Vincy and Jean Valmy, J'y suis, j'y reste stands out as one of director Maurice Labro's most enjoyable comedies, and this it owes mostly to the irresistible performances from the two lead actresses, Jane Sourza and Marguerite Pierry.  At the time, Sourza was the most popular comedienne in France, thanks to her phenomenally successful radio show Sur le banc, which she performed regularly with her comedy partner Raymond Souplex.  The Josiane Balasko of her era, Sourza makes an effective chalk-and-cheese contrast with the more genteel Pierry, and this is what makes the film so especially enjoyable.  You wouldn't think it, given that she looks as sprightly as an ingénue, but Pierry was in her mid sixities and approaching the end of her busy screen career, which began almost two and half decades previously with a similar farce, Jean Renoir's On purge bébé (1931).  Sourza and Pierry are a delight in their own right but together they make an effervescent cocktail.

Maurice Labro directed a fair number of popular comedies - including some so-so Fernandel fare such as Boniface Somnambule (1951) - but few of these have the charm and sophistication of his lively adaptation of Vincy and Valmy's celebrated play.  Although the improbably well-matched lead actresses come close to monopolising our attention, Robert Pizani steals a fair number of scenes with his punctilious Cardinal de Tramone, who has the Sisyphus-like ordeal of correcting every social faux pas that Jane Sourza makes as she is dragged by her ankles up the social ladder.  It's the classic French farce, driven by misunderstandings, class collisions and the usual jibes about Italian cuisine, but the well-worn formula works a treat.  With a cracking script and some great comedy performances, J'y suis, j'y reste can hardly fail to please.

Film Synopsis

Nénette, the owner of a downmarket bar-café, has decided to marry her barman, Jules, but it seems she is already married without her knowledge - to the Baron Hubert de Mont-Vermeil.  Nénette recalls that, ten years previously, she lost her handbag containing her identity papers and deduces that someone has 'borrowed' her identity to marry the Baron.  To clear the matter up, she calls on the Baron at his stately residence, hoping she can persuade him to agree to a divorce.  As he himself is planning to get married, Hubert is more than willing to oblige, but his aunt, the Countess Apolline de Mont-Vermeil, a staunch traditionalist, refuses.  Nénette's visit is ill-timed, as the Cardinal de Tramone is due to spend a few days with the Mont-Vermeils and the Countess is resolved to create a good impression.  Nénette and Hubert have no choice but to pretend to be the model couple, whilst Jules amuses himself with the Baron's maid.  The Cardinal's wish that Nénette and Hubert's apparently happy union should be blessed by childbirth is granted when a baby suddenly appears from nowhere.  It seems that, during her rest cure in Switzerland, Nénette's troublesome impostor had a brief liaison with a stranger, the fruit of which has come back to haunt her husband, the Baron.  For the Countess Apolline, this is the last straw...