A medical student meets a young woman on a sleeper train. They meet up again in Paris, but there are complications: the woman has a jealous boyfriend and the young man is expecting a visit from an interfering uncle with marriage plans for his nephew. Since the uncle believes that the student has already passed his exams, the boy poses as a practising doctor; the naked woman in his bathtub being, of course, a patient undergoing hydrotherapy...
"La Petite Dame du wagon-lit" was adapted from a stage farce and it shows. Aside from the short prologue on the train, and the final scene in a nightclub, we rarely stray from the main set of the student's apartment, through which passes a crowd of half-dressed women, blustering relatives, angry suitors, and confused would-be patients. Over the course of 90 minutes, there's no end of slamming doors, keyhole peeping and comic misunderstandings.
It's very silly but also very enjoyable. Roger Tréville, who appeared in many such comedies in the 30s, plays the leading role with enthusiasm and charm. As his best friend, tubby actor Pauley is the "butt" of much of the physical humour. And Colette Darfeuil, whose naked breasts get their own cameo in the opening credits, is good fun as the "petite dame".
Many French comedies of this period would pause for a song or two, but this one runs straight through without a break. Perhaps they'd been edited out of the print I saw (which did have some harsh cuts); or perhaps director Maurice Cammage simply understood the importance of pace and momentum in a film of this sort. The zip and fizz of this movie could be a lesson to many modern directors working in comedy.
"La Petite Dame du wagon-lit" was adapted from a stage farce and it shows. Aside from the short prologue on the train, and the final scene in a nightclub, we rarely stray from the main set of the student's apartment, through which passes a crowd of half-dressed women, blustering relatives, angry suitors, and confused would-be patients. Over the course of 90 minutes, there's no end of slamming doors, keyhole peeping and comic misunderstandings.
It's very silly but also very enjoyable. Roger Tréville, who appeared in many such comedies in the 30s, plays the leading role with enthusiasm and charm. As his best friend, tubby actor Pauley is the "butt" of much of the physical humour. And Colette Darfeuil, whose naked breasts get their own cameo in the opening credits, is good fun as the "petite dame".
Many French comedies of this period would pause for a song or two, but this one runs straight through without a break. Perhaps they'd been edited out of the print I saw (which did have some harsh cuts); or perhaps director Maurice Cammage simply understood the importance of pace and momentum in a film of this sort. The zip and fizz of this movie could be a lesson to many modern directors working in comedy.