Some people are like sticking plasters, just when you think you finally got rid of them, they strike back. And they can't stop talking, oblivious to the fact that it takes two people to make a discussion. Ultimately, you just want to grab them on both sides of the face and yell "Shut up!" Francis Veber couldn't find a better title for his crime-comedy, and a better actor than Gérard Depardieu to play Quentin, the quintessential pain-in-the-neck.
With that film, Veber comes full circle as his first writing credit, was the classic "L'Emmerdeur" (literally, the pain-in-the-neck) another buddy-movie reuniting a hardened no-nonsense gangster played by Lino Ventura, and Belgian singer Jacques Brel, portraying a suicidal loser. Veber never really abandoned that formula which revealed itself an astonishing source of fun and original comedies, notably the 80's trilogy with goofy-looking Pierre Richard and younger and tough-looking Gérard Depardieu, and his greatest success "The Dinner of Schmucks".
Yet, in "Shut up!", roles are reversed, Depardieu is the schmuck, a more straight-forward one, and as the tough guy, the only actor who could look more intimidating than Depardieu, Jean Reno, in a sort of Leon-like character, but with the brain. Still, the premise didn't really attract me at first, I thought it would be a reboot of the usual formula, but Veber proved that he was like a cook capable of making different dishes from the same ingredients. And the first surprise is that Depardieu doesn't have the usual loser's name: François Perrin or Pignon, he's Quentin, from Montargis.
The fact that he introduces himself by adding "from Montargis" is not hazardous, and already gives a hint of how subtly hilarious the character is. For one thing, who the hell cares? But we do care, and there's a neat pay-off for that little detail near the end. And if not, in the same vein than "Bond. James Bond" or "Forrest, Forrest Gump", the mark of a great character sometimes lies in the way he introduces himself. And when you look at this lovable big guy, with his smile and that hair cut as he put his finger in a power plant, you wonder how he ended up being a criminal.
First, Quentin isn't cut for robbing banks as he gets them mixed up with exchange offices, and when he hides in a cinema, he simply sits and enjoys "Ice Age" and keeps watching the screen while the cops arrest him. In jail, it's only a matter of minutes before he drives his cell mates crazy. But the trick of comedy is to surprise you. And Veber, a master of economy and hilarious ellipses, knows that. At the end, the cell mates are on stretchers, so we know all we need to know about Quentin, he's cheerful, dim-witted and extraordinarily strong. But he's not mad.
The psychiatrist is positive: Quentin is just stupid. The warden almost begs him to keep him in the asylum, but the doctor replies "I run a mad house, not a stupid house" and adds "imagine the size of the building if " And you can tell that André Dussolier is really trying to keep a straight face, while delivering this hilarious line, and I'm pretty sure the wasn't the only one in this film. There are two long minutes where Depardieu put in the cell of Ruby (Reno's character), just talks and talks. Reno doesn't blink an eye. He makes a horse sound no snap. If Depardieu's performance is extraordinary, Reno deserves a mention if only for having kept this 'straight' face, so to speak.
The set-up to Ruby's incarceration is another masterstroke of economical and efficient storytelling. Ruby works for Vogel (Jean-Pierre Malo as a nasty-looking mob boss) and has an affair with his protégée. The girl is killed. Vogel's men attack an armored car. The surviving ones take the money but then Ruby neutralizes them. After an abrupt ellipse where Ruby is suddenly in cell, the Chief of Police (Richard Berry) confront him and we all get the picture To avenge the girl, Ruby stole Vogel's money. Vogel needs to know where he hid the loot, and so do the cops. And Ruby wants Vogel's head.
It all comes down to Ruby refusing to talk. The Chief calls the bluff and knows Ruby is onto something, so he comes up with a great idea, how about putting the man who never talks with the man who always talks. And this is where I have a little fondness on the English title, "Ruby and Quentin" because the film is less about Quentin's annoyances than the touching duo he forms with Ruby. Surely, we don't want Quentin to "shut up!" because he embarks to one a hell of a ride, starting with an escape you won't see coming (honorable mention to Ticky Holgado in one of his last roles).
Then the cat-and-mouse chase includes so many switches of cars (including Police cars), so many changes of clothes, (one of them involves the visit to a jockey's house, but I won't spoil the punch line to you) and so many knock-outs that you'll easily lose track at the end. It's spell- binding comedy at its best, with Veber's well-oiled screen writing and the inevitable human touch, without which, everything would be a series of predictable gimmicks.
Ruby never gets over-the-top or hysterical he tries to understand Quentin's behavior as if a man that dumb couldn't be for real, there had to be a reason. Well, Quentin had a good reason, he wanted to be Ruby's friend and together, they would have opened a café, named "The Two Friends". You know the only way to end the film is when Ruby will stop finding this ludicrous.
And the film finds the perfect note to end with, a shot that says everything. Most of all that Quentin wasn't a loser. If one thing, he won our hearts.
With that film, Veber comes full circle as his first writing credit, was the classic "L'Emmerdeur" (literally, the pain-in-the-neck) another buddy-movie reuniting a hardened no-nonsense gangster played by Lino Ventura, and Belgian singer Jacques Brel, portraying a suicidal loser. Veber never really abandoned that formula which revealed itself an astonishing source of fun and original comedies, notably the 80's trilogy with goofy-looking Pierre Richard and younger and tough-looking Gérard Depardieu, and his greatest success "The Dinner of Schmucks".
Yet, in "Shut up!", roles are reversed, Depardieu is the schmuck, a more straight-forward one, and as the tough guy, the only actor who could look more intimidating than Depardieu, Jean Reno, in a sort of Leon-like character, but with the brain. Still, the premise didn't really attract me at first, I thought it would be a reboot of the usual formula, but Veber proved that he was like a cook capable of making different dishes from the same ingredients. And the first surprise is that Depardieu doesn't have the usual loser's name: François Perrin or Pignon, he's Quentin, from Montargis.
The fact that he introduces himself by adding "from Montargis" is not hazardous, and already gives a hint of how subtly hilarious the character is. For one thing, who the hell cares? But we do care, and there's a neat pay-off for that little detail near the end. And if not, in the same vein than "Bond. James Bond" or "Forrest, Forrest Gump", the mark of a great character sometimes lies in the way he introduces himself. And when you look at this lovable big guy, with his smile and that hair cut as he put his finger in a power plant, you wonder how he ended up being a criminal.
First, Quentin isn't cut for robbing banks as he gets them mixed up with exchange offices, and when he hides in a cinema, he simply sits and enjoys "Ice Age" and keeps watching the screen while the cops arrest him. In jail, it's only a matter of minutes before he drives his cell mates crazy. But the trick of comedy is to surprise you. And Veber, a master of economy and hilarious ellipses, knows that. At the end, the cell mates are on stretchers, so we know all we need to know about Quentin, he's cheerful, dim-witted and extraordinarily strong. But he's not mad.
The psychiatrist is positive: Quentin is just stupid. The warden almost begs him to keep him in the asylum, but the doctor replies "I run a mad house, not a stupid house" and adds "imagine the size of the building if " And you can tell that André Dussolier is really trying to keep a straight face, while delivering this hilarious line, and I'm pretty sure the wasn't the only one in this film. There are two long minutes where Depardieu put in the cell of Ruby (Reno's character), just talks and talks. Reno doesn't blink an eye. He makes a horse sound no snap. If Depardieu's performance is extraordinary, Reno deserves a mention if only for having kept this 'straight' face, so to speak.
The set-up to Ruby's incarceration is another masterstroke of economical and efficient storytelling. Ruby works for Vogel (Jean-Pierre Malo as a nasty-looking mob boss) and has an affair with his protégée. The girl is killed. Vogel's men attack an armored car. The surviving ones take the money but then Ruby neutralizes them. After an abrupt ellipse where Ruby is suddenly in cell, the Chief of Police (Richard Berry) confront him and we all get the picture To avenge the girl, Ruby stole Vogel's money. Vogel needs to know where he hid the loot, and so do the cops. And Ruby wants Vogel's head.
It all comes down to Ruby refusing to talk. The Chief calls the bluff and knows Ruby is onto something, so he comes up with a great idea, how about putting the man who never talks with the man who always talks. And this is where I have a little fondness on the English title, "Ruby and Quentin" because the film is less about Quentin's annoyances than the touching duo he forms with Ruby. Surely, we don't want Quentin to "shut up!" because he embarks to one a hell of a ride, starting with an escape you won't see coming (honorable mention to Ticky Holgado in one of his last roles).
Then the cat-and-mouse chase includes so many switches of cars (including Police cars), so many changes of clothes, (one of them involves the visit to a jockey's house, but I won't spoil the punch line to you) and so many knock-outs that you'll easily lose track at the end. It's spell- binding comedy at its best, with Veber's well-oiled screen writing and the inevitable human touch, without which, everything would be a series of predictable gimmicks.
Ruby never gets over-the-top or hysterical he tries to understand Quentin's behavior as if a man that dumb couldn't be for real, there had to be a reason. Well, Quentin had a good reason, he wanted to be Ruby's friend and together, they would have opened a café, named "The Two Friends". You know the only way to end the film is when Ruby will stop finding this ludicrous.
And the film finds the perfect note to end with, a shot that says everything. Most of all that Quentin wasn't a loser. If one thing, he won our hearts.