Les Tontons flingueurs (1963)
Directed by Georges Lautner

Film Review

In late November 1963, whilst British cinema audiences were delighting in the second round of screen exploits of agent 007 (From Russia with Love), their French counterparts were being treated to an altogether different kind of thriller, one which (at first glance) appears to have fallen through a time warp from the 1950s. Les Tontons flingueurs has no exciting car chases, no exotic locations, no scantily dressed females and no bronzed sardonic hero -  it is not even in colour!  What it does have, however, is an ensemble of terrific actors, a totally unhinged plot and reams of self-deprecating dialogue that crackles like a gigantic bank of Geiger counters next to a radioactive pile.  Given that it would take the Bond movies another decade before they descended to this level of self-conscious, self-inflicted Mickey-taking, you could say that Les Tontons flingueurs was ahead of its time.

The thriller-parody was by no means a new phenomenon.  They were making films like this in Hollywood way back in the 1930s, sending up the first wave of gangster movies for all they were worth.  The film's director, Georges Lautner, had already found success with the genre with a series of films featuring the exploits of a Bond forerunner, special agent Théobald Dromard, a.k.a. Le Monocle, beginning with Le Monocle noir (1961).  Throughout much of the 60s and 70s, Lautner carved a very successful niche for himself by directing parodies of various forms of thriller, from Bond-style spy spoofs to gangster parodies.  The best of these is unquestionably Les Tontons flingueurs, which manages to be both a stylish pastiche of film noir thrillers of the past and an irresistibly funny comedy.

It may be hard to believe but Les Tontons flingueurs was orginally conceived as a serious gangster film, based on a novel in a series of pulp fiction thrillers by Albert Simonin.  An earlier novel in the series had already been adapted, by Jacques Becker, as Touchez pas au grisbi (1954), one of the landmark films noirs of French cinema.  Simonin's subseqent novel Grisbi or not Grisbi was to have been a kind of sequel to Becker's film, with Jean Gabin reprising the central role of ageing gangster Max Le Menteur.  Conscious that the traditional gangster movie had had its day, and mindful of the success of his earlier thriller parodies, George Lautner was easily persuaded to take the comedic route, assisted by a talented dialogist, Michel Audiard.  This was Lautner's first collaboration with Audiard and the beginning of a partnership that would last 22 years, right up until the writer's death in 1985, their final work together being La Cage aux folles 3 - 'Elles' se marient (1985). 

By the early 1960s, Jean Gabin had begun to refashion his screen persona to become the patriarch or Godfather of French cinema.  He would have been ideal for the lead role in Les Tontons flingueurs, but unfortunately he refused to accept the part unless Lautner gave in to a series of unreasonable demands, which included the choice of technicians.  With Gabin out of the frame, Lautner naturally considered replacing him with Paul Meurisse, who had given such value in the Monocle films.  Unfortunately, Meurisse had health problems at the time and so Lautner approached an actor who, whilst having no experience with comedy, had come to be identified with tough gangster roles, Lino Ventura.   Convinced that he had no talent whatsoever as a comedic performer, Ventura had reservations about taking on the role of Fernand Naudin, but it proved to be one of the most important of his career.  Ventura may not have been a natural comedian but by playing the straight man in a totally unhinged universe inhabited by pratfalling loons and buffoons he is uproariously funny, and many a French comedy owes its classic status to his sobering unflappable presence.

With Lino Ventura cast as the straight man, all that the film needed was an ensemble of comedic actors to hurl the gag-laden frisbees in his direction.  Bernard Blier was to be the perfect foil for Ventura, another acting heavyweight, but one with a natural penchant for downbeat comedy.  Here Blier's comedy muscle is enhanced by Lautner's decision to partner him with another popular funny man, Jean Lefebvre, who is best remembered today for his part in the Gendarme films, suffering under Louis de Funès in various madcap situations.  The brilliant Blier-Lefebvre double act is balanced by Ventura's pairing with another comedy giant, Francis Blanche, who is probably the funniest thing about this film (or indeed any film).  Robert Dalban (a familiar habitué of gangster films, straight and parodied) lends his support as a pointlessly bilingual valet and Claude Rich has no end of fun playing an avant-garde musician.   The German actress Sabine Sinjen and Italian Venantino Venantini were imposed on Lautner by the film's German and Italian co-producers, both adding a touch of 60s-style glamour to the proceedings.  (Gaumont, the film's French distributor, had doubts that the film would be a success, and so its producer Alain Poiré was coerced into seeking backing from German and Italian distributors, hence the Euro-pudding cast.)

When it was first released, on 27th November 1963, Les Tontons flingueurs met with a barrage of flak from the critics, who were generally falling over themselves to lambaste a film that was perceived as hopelessly outdated and plumbing the depths of popular entertainment.  A film that found humour in armed violence, with people being shot dead for laughs, in the same week that President Kennedy was assassinated was unlikely to go down well with anyone of a critical disposition.  And let us not forget that this was the height of the French New Wave, a time of change and modernity.  Lautner's film appeared to be mired in the mediocrity of the mid-1950s - not cinéma d'aujourd'hui but cinéma de papa.  Who would pay to watch a film that was a silly send-up of an old-fashioned gangster flick?  As it turned out (and not for the first time) the critics had it wrong.  3.3 million cinemagoers flocked to watch Les Tontons flingueurs and it wasn't many years before the film was recognised as a classic of its kind, a film that inspired countless imitations but was seldom (if ever) improved upon.  Today, it is both a popular classic and a cult favourite, one of the most often repeated films on French television (seventeen times so far, and still counting).  Lautner immediately followed it with another thriller parody, Les Barbouzes (1964), and then another, Ne nous fâchons pas (1966), both popular entries in his impressive filmography.

So just what is it about Les Tontons flingueurs that makes it such an enduring success?  Can it be the exceptional cast line-up, which includes some of the best-loved actors in French cinema?  Can it be Maurice Fellous's beautifully noirish cinematography, effectively complemented by Michel Magne's score (which consists of the same motif being orchestrated in umpteen different ways)?  Or is it Lautner's imaginative direction, which derives the maximum impact from the visual gags, which become more outlandish as the film progresses?  Whilst all of the above doubtless play a part in the film's unfading popularity, the real secret of the film's success is Michel Audiard's dialogue which employs its own humorous argot, a twisted variant on that which Albert Simonin invented for his novel.  There are lines in the film that are known to virtually every man, woman and stray dog in France, including: "Les cons, ça ose tout.  C'est même à ça qu'on les reconnaît" and "C'est curieux chez les marins ce besoin de faire des phrases!"  Hearing Audiard's classic dialogue is like listening to a favourite piece of music - after a while, it becomes a kind of prozac-substitute, a pick-me-up that never fails to do its job.  And that, in essence, is the definition of a classic: a cheap but effective alternative to prescribed medicine.

Film Synopsis

Fernand Naudin, a one-time crook turned respectable businessman, is summoned to the deathbed of his old childhood friend, a gangster boss known as the Mexican.  The latter extorts from Naudin a promise to take under his wing his daughter, Patricia, and also to take over the running of his various nefarious activities.  Not everyone is pleased with this arrangement.  The Volfoni brothers, Raoul and Paul, had seen themselves as the rightful heirs to the Mexican's criminal empire and are not yet ready to give up the crown.  When Naudin refuses to decline his inheritance, the Volfonis decide that he must be forced into early retirement, with a bullet.  Fortunately, Naudin has two invaluable allies in the Mexican's former notary, Maître Folace, and his sharp-shooting valet, Jean.  The Volfonis are not the only threat Naudin has to contend with.  Other gangsters, including Théo and Tomate, are just as eager to usurp his position, and, to cap it all, Patricia has a boyfriend who is an experimental musician!  As the bodies start to pile up and the responsibilities of being a guardian begin to get to him, Naudin soon wishes he had never met the Mexican...