IT CAME FROM THE BOTTOM SHELF!

A Pain in the Ass (L’Emmerdeur, 1973) is a comedy that succeeds by playing it totally straight. The film really contains no “jokes,” and the cast performs as if they were in a serious film noir or crime melodrama. The humor is derived entirely out of a series of increasingly ridiculous (yet fully credible) situations. This was not at all what I was expecting. Until I got an early look at the upcoming Blu-ray from Kino Lorber Studio Classics, I had never seen Édouard Molinaro’s 1973 black comedy about a hit man who is constantly interrupted by a suicidal man in an adjoining hotel room. I had heard of the film, but only as the basis for Billy Wilder’s final film (and infamous failure) Buddy Buddy. Knowing that Wilder’s Jack Lemmon/Walter Matthau comedy was based on this film and that the original was the product of the director of Oscar (1967) and La Cage aux Folles (1978), I was expecting a broad farce. The film itself was actually a lot more interesting than that.

The film begins completely straight with the attempted assassination of the key witness in a criminal trial. When the planted bomb takes out the wrong target, the mob flies in professional hit man Ralf Milan (Lino Ventura) to tie up the loose ends and complete the contracted “hit” from a hotel room that overlooks the courthouse. Unfortunately for Milan, a shirt salesman, François Pignon (Jacques Brel), has checked into the room next door with plans to kill himself, distraught because his wife has left him for her psychiatrist. When the bellhop (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg‘s Nino Castelnuovo) catches Pignon in a suicide attempt, he threatens to call the cops. To avoid bringing undue attention to the site of the planned sniper killing, Milan talks the bellhop out of calling the police; but in doing so, he is forced to take charge of the suicidal neighbor. This starts a cascade of obstacles that threaten Milan’s ability to successfully take out his intended victim. To say any more would be to spoil the fun.

A Pain in the Ass (L’Emmerdeur) ends up being a very funny movie, and I did laugh out loud often during the latter half of the film. However, I think the movie is more likely to appeal to fans of the French Neo-Noir films of Jean-Pierre Melville, such as such as Le Samouraï (1967) and Le Cercle Rouge (1970), than to audiences looking for a traditional comedy. The first 20 minutes of the brisk, 85-minute picture are played as a straight crime thriller. This builds stakes for the characters and makes the comedic payoff all the more sweet when the serious situation begins to degenerate into ridiculousness. However, I could see some viewers become impatient during the first quarter of the film, if they were expecting a more traditional comedy structure. Happily, I’m a fan of both European crime dramas and farcical comedies, so the slow transition in genres worked tremendously well for me.

Much of the success of the film falls squarely on the bull-like shoulders of Lino Ventura. From his film debut in Touchez Pas au Grisbi (1954), Ventura was associated with serious dramas, especially crime and espionage films. As a consequence, he brings a gravitas of a Humphrey Bogart or a middle-aged Robert De Niro to the part of the gruff, experienced hitman. His character does not know it at the time, but when he checks into the hotel, he is entering his own personal Hell, and the emotional François Pignon is his eternal punishment. He underplays the part with wonderful stillness and brooding silence, as everything falls apart around him, and I found his reactions (and sometimes non-reactions) the funniest thing in the film.

Jacques Brel, who plays the depressed pest, François Pignon was a musician who transitioned to acting. Despite being teamed with a powerhouse of French cinema, Brel acquits himself excellently. He actually has the more difficult role, in that his character has to be self-absorbed and irritating, so we can sympathize with the plight of the hitman, while avoiding being so irritating that he doesn’t completely lose the audience himself.  It should be noted that Brel also co-wrote the nicely understated score for the film with François Rauber.

The filmmaking is also surprising. Not only is the comedy played straighter here than I can remember in any motion picture; sometimes the laughs come out of the way the film is assembled. In at least a couple of cases, humor is derived out of a well-timed edit, which quick-cuts to a comic reveal. Taken altogether, A Pain in the Ass (L’Emmerdeur) adds up to a totally unique experience for the filmgoer. The film and the new Blu-ray from Kino Lorber Studio Classics are highly recommended.

France/C-85m./Dir: Édouard Molinaro/Wr: Francis Veber (based on his play by Le Contrat)/Cast: Lino Ventura, Jacques Brel, Caroline Cellier, Nino Castelnuovo, Jean-Pierre Darras 

For Fans of: If you love the French neo-noir films of Jean-Pierre Melville, such as Le Samouraï (1967) and Le Cercle Rouge (1970), you may find this more comedic twist on the genre quite enjoyable.

Video: A Pain in the Ass (L’Emmerdeur) will receive a U.S. Blu-ray release from Kino Lorber Studio Classics on March 30th. The Blu-ray was transferred in its original 1.66:1 widescreen ratio, using a new 2K master; and the image looks absolutely fantastic. The image is sharp, with appropriate film grain. The color palette tends towards blues, grays, and yellows, which is typical for French crime films of the time. While the color palette is subdued, it appears to be accurate to the look of the original release. I do want to emphasize that the color palette is not displeasing or in any way wrong. In fact, whether the blueish look of the film was an intentional directorial decision or simply the result of the Eastmancolor film stock available to the production, the hues add to the overall noirish feel of the story.

The DTS-HD Master Audio handles dialogue, sound effects, and Jacques Brel’s music nicely. There is no audio distortion or age-related hiss. The only area where the presentation is (slightly) lacking is in the English subtitles, which occasionally translate mumbled dialogue with the subtitle “Inaudible,” when the dialogue probably could have been interpreted and translated. However, this only happens in three or four cases, and no dialogue important to the plot is missing,

The special features include:

• A new audio commentary by film critic Nick Pinkerton: This is an interesting and informed discussion. He goes well into the careers of the stars and filmmakers, so the talk will be of most interest to fans of French film.
• Original theatrical trailer
• Bonus trailers for Kino’s releases of the French crime films The Sicilian Clan (1969), Razzia sur la chnouf (1955), Touchez Pas au Grisbi (1954), and Max and the Junkmen (1971)
• Optional English Subtitles

Streaming: At the time of this review, A Pain in the Ass (L’Emmerdeur, 1973) was not available through a subscription to any of the major streaming services. It was also not available for digital rental or purchase.

More to Explore: A good way to follow up a dark comedy about a hit job gone wrong is to watch a dark comedy about the aftermath of a hit job gone wrong, such as In Bruges (2008). I’d also suggest checking out Édouard Molinaro’s earlier comedy, Oscar (1967). It is a much more traditional French farce, but is extremely entertaining and deserves to be better known in English-speaking countries.

Trivia: The director, Édouard Molinaro, has an uncredited cameo as the counter clerk in a coffee shop. When he is introduced, his character is seen holding a Jacques Brel vinyl record.

For More Info: It is difficult to find a book in English about this film or its participants. I’d suggest consulting the excellent reference website filmsdefrance.com.