Few movies dare ask the age-old question, “why aren’t there more Luis Guzmán vehicles?” Why, indeed? Why aren’t there entire seasons of cinema devoted to this stocky, middle-aged, pock-marked, quasi-versatile, lisping Hispanic actor? Danny Trejo carved out his own franchise; why no love for Luis? Puerto Ricans in Paris has identified this injustice and taken steps to rectify, giving Luis co-headliner attention for 82 full minutes. And the result? I’m sorry; what were we talking about again?
Puerto Ricans in Paris does indeed live up to its title, unlike that baldfaced liar Naked Lunch. Luis (Guzmán) and Eddie (Edgar Garcia) – seriously, fellas, this is what you named your leads? Did you name them first and then look for actors with those names? Was Eddie Murphy not Puerto Rican looking enough for you? — Brooklyn detectives Luis and Eddie are summoned to Paris to track a missing designer handbag. The bag in question is a beta set to be cloned as knock-offs at a much lower price, potentially costing millions for French moguls Colette (Alice Taglioni) and Vincent (Frédéric Anscombre).
Now you might be asking yourself, “why did Colette choose NYC detectives for a French crime … especially two who don’t speak French?” I know I sure asked that question a bunch during the relatively brief run-time. Other questions I had were, “Why did the chief let these two go to Paris for work?” “What jurisdiction did these men have in Paris?” “”What skills were these New Yorkers adding to the Paris investigation?” “Why did these fellas, both in the doghouse with their respective ladies, Rosie Perez and Rosario Dawson, not ask their women to accompany them?” “Who was the target audience for this piece – Puerto Ricans who don’t mind when a movie blatantly accuses their own as a collected people of crude manners and backwoods naïveté?
To be fair, Eddie, who’s kinda like Vin Diesel in dwarf form, shows a great deal of open-mindedness and a fine ability to converse with the locals, just not in French, so it’s not quite fair to call the pair
recalcitrant or 100% ignorant. But, even given the crappy premise, you’d think these guys would show up in Paris looking to solve a crime. Luis just wants to birddog (oiseau-chien?) every chat in sight, while Eddie is content to hang with Colette and indulge the local cuisine. Colette spells out four possible suspects, which narrows the field considerably and still the pair of awayboys struggle to accomplish even the bare minimum of police work; the tiny bit these idiots do manage to execute involves a transparent sting operations. Do Brooklyn detectives actually detect anything?
This is the kind of film that sets itself up for failure. From the title alone, you you’re going to be indulging in the fish-out-of water (poisson-non-mer) scenario. Ho ho, isn’t it funny, Puerto Ricans in Paris? Why stop at the standard barbs of cuisine, geography and fashion? Why not go full racism and stage West Side Story at the Eiffel Tower or have a loud, impromptu parade down the Champs-Élysées? I’m not sure what you were going for here, but it didn’t work on any level.
Men who treat their profession like a hobby
Stick out como pulgares in a French lobby
Their case is a “huh?”
These guys? “Nuh uh”
Presentation or work, the word is “slobby”
Rated R, 82 Minutes
D: Ian Edelman
W: Ian Edelman, Neel Shah
Genre: Rico not-so-suave
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Desperate Puerto Ricans
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Those with reasoning
