Interior mansion. The corridor reeks of expense and stuffiness. Docile, educated white men sit neatly in a row, waiting, like actors all auditioning for the part of “stuffy accountant #3”. Then a large black man enters, declares impatience and storms into the interview room demanding to be rejected in timely fashion. His clothes, height, skin color and demeanor are wrong for the scene. Why has he applied for a job here? For the “benefit.” He needs that rejection signature now. But it’s more than that, and we all kind of know it. Even when you apply to a job for which you’re unqualified, you do it because in the back of your mind, it’s something you think you can do and moreover might like. When the employer calls the bluff, our outcast becomes family and our story gets going.
Philippe (François Cluzet) is an invalid in need of a body. Driss (Omar Sy) is a ghetto kid in need of a break. They’re detectives. Ok, no they’re not despite the Nero Wolfe-ian setup. And they aren’t cops, either. This is a refreshingly non-American film.
“How refreshing is The Intouchables?” you ask. Let me tell you. Philippe can’t move from the neck down. At a point in act three, he decides to grow a beard. After doing so, Driss offers to shave him. Using sort of a “subtractive art” method, Driss screws with his charge, coming up with distinctively out-of-place looks for the helpless, but very wealthy, paraplegic – fu Manchu, handlebar moustache and eventually settles on giving the Frenchman a distinct Hitler look. Here we’ve violated two prime rules of American culture – you don’t take advantage of the handicapped and you don’t invoke Hitler unless you’re arguing on-line.
Without a scene like this, we haven’t established the real trust and camaraderie between the leads. How far they’ve come. Yes, I suppose this is a spoiler, but we know where The Intouchables is headed from the act three flashforward to start the film. We’ve seen Americans make this kind of film; it comes out awful, like My Sister’s Keeper. In a film such as that, the hardships of daily life are glossed over until a point needs to be made and then the tragedy is underscored for the sake of weeping.
The Intouchables didn’t shy away once from the idea that Phillipe is a crippled man. Despite there not being a weepfest moment where we wallow in the tragedy of this man, the film works completely. The idea is that each man is handicapped in his own way. Despite such physical gifts, Driss is just as helpless. His 17-kids-to-one-apartment life is awful. Can you imagine not being able to bathe by yourself for the teeming masses in your living space? Philippe chooses Driss exactly because the latter holds no advanced degree in empathy. Such much be earned, not given. American films could take a lesson there.
Well, we’re movin’ on up (movin’ on up)/to l’est side
To a deluxe apartment on the Seine
And check it out (check it out)/is l’buddy cine
Here, have bunch of smiles and Chardonnay
Rated R, 112 Minutes
D: Olivier Nakache, Eric Toledano
W: Olivier Nakache, Eric Toledano
Genre: Nero Wolfe type buddy pic
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The paraplegic-NBA alliance
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Children
