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Nouvelle Vague and Termite Terrace, or Roald Dahl via Mack Sennett, "quelle odor!" The acquisition of silent comedy is envisioned from the beginning as unbridled momentum, Louis Malle opens with a locomotive's POV before hitching his camera to the 11-year-old tomboy (Catherine Demongeot) tearing through Paris for the weekend. "Mon cul" is her byword, the subway is the enchanted ride denied (there's a strike), her guardian is the epicurean uncle (Philippe Noiret) with a travesti cabaret-act on the side. Lickety-split wordplay and Méliès cuts, rollercoaster lenses and Eastmancolor filters, these are the merry vandal's arsenal, four or five gags per shot. On her trail is Wile E. Coyote in a tweed suit (Vittorio Caprioli), reincarnated as a lovestruck gendarme and finally as a bumptious Mussolini crushed by a falling piano. (Their rooftop chase is sped-up demonically, only to be overcranked for a flash of Vigo.) Uncle meanwhile loses his specs atop the Eiffel Tower, and grows abstractedly philosophical on the ledge. "The whole town in flames—a helluva show!" It's all play for the pocket-sized heroine, just the wonders of the city and the medium passing before her eyes until she gets sleepy and conjures up her own wonderland version. Nothing is lost on Malle, who, abetted by "consultant" William Klein and in anticipation of Edwards' The Great Race, balloons a coruscating Three Stooges free-for-all at a restaurant into a literal battle that dismantles the very walls of the sound stage. "A sudden stroke of genius, us artists are like that." The strike's over at the close, all part of a brat's education (cp. Black Moon). With Hubert Deschamps, Carla Marlier, Annie Fratellini, Jacques Dufilho, Yvonne Clech, and Odette Piquet.
--- Fernando F. Croce |