Politically incorrect comedy hits the sweet spot
French film finds warmth at the heart of story about rich quadriplegic and his immigrant caregiver
THE INTOUCHABLES Starring: Francois Cluzet, Omar Sy Directed by: Olivier Nakache and Eric Toledano PG: Adult themes, drug use, coarse language Running time: 112 minutes Rating: French with English subtitles
The sentimental buddy comedy The Intouchables has been delighting ( most) French audiences and appalling ( some) U. S. critics for ( many of) the same reasons.
It’s the story of an uneducated black immigrant from Senegal named Driss who becomes the caregiver and confidante of a refined white invalid named Philippe, who lives in what looks like a slightly smaller version of Versailles in the middle of Paris.
The humour, as well as the lightly portrayed pathos come from obvious and politically incorrect assumptions: the amusing lack of sophistication but native canniness of the immigrant; the emotional withdrawal of the rich white guy who needs to get in touch with his own primitive instincts. The two men go to a gallery of modern art where Driss is amazed at the price of an abstract painting (“30,000 euros for a nosebleed?”); they attend an opera and Driss laughs out loud at the absurdity of the German singing.
Is it paternalism or good- natured skewering of our cultural touchstones? You sense a bit of both in The Intouchables, which in any event is carried along by two fine performances: by Omar Sy, who won France’s Cesar award as best actor, as the earthy and smiling Driss and by veteran French actor Francois Cluzet as the improbably indulgent Philippe.
Indeed, the entire enterprise seems improbable, even though it’s based on a true story ( stick around for the credits and you’ll see the real people).
We meet Driss — who lives in the crowded chaos of a Paris housing project — as he is applying for the job of caregiver to the paralyzed man. He doesn’t expect to get it, but he has to prove he has sought employment so he can get his social- assistance cheque. However, out of a slew of seemingly more appropriate candidates ( who are educated in the field, interested in doing the job), Philippe chooses Driss.
When an associate warns him that the man is an ex- convict who will show him no pity, Philippe says, “That’s what I want. No pity.” It’s as close as we get to an explanation.
In any event, it sets up the kind of fish- out- of- water scenes that pander to our expectations about the constrictions of wealth and the common sense of the man on the street. Driss, wearing jeans and a hoodie, wanders the lavish halls of Philippe’s mansion, wondering at the extraordinary bedroom where he will get to live ( not to mention the marble bathtub).
He attends a stultifying classical music concert for Philippe’s birthday, then puts on his Earth, Wind and Fire tape and gets the stodgy guests up and trying to match his smooth dance moves.
Co- directors Olivier Nakache and Eric Toledano, who also wrote the screenplay, are more subtle in showing us the growing affection between Driss and Philippe, the way the caregiver massages the older man’s legs then gives him advice in a long- distance romance — cherchez la femme, as they say in the sentimental buddy comedies from France — with a woman who doesn’t realize that her pen pal is paralyzed from the neck to the toes.
There’s also a subplot about Driss’s pursuit of Magalie ( Audrey Fleurot), one of Philippe’s assistants — he invites her to share the marble bathtub — and his family, which he has abandoned to the vicissitudes of poverty and drug- dealing on the bad side of town. He’s a combination of dangerous street thug and charming naïf, and Sy’s wide grin lights up the screen, as if assuring us that the danger is just there for the sake of the chemistry but that he’s all heart.
There are not many surprises here; the fun comes in following the familiar beats of the poor man who teaches something to the educated elite, while himself learning to be responsible. It’s both unlikely and obvious, but it’s undeniably sweet.