Film Review: Le Placard (2001)

Do you suffer from low self-esteem? Do your child and ex-spouse ignore your phone calls…for years? Does your employer ever physically attack you simply because you’re, well, you?

If so, you’ll definitely relate to the travails of dullard extraordinaire, the most boring man in Paris, Francois Pignon (Daniel Auteuil). Pignon, the central character in Francis Veber‘s 2001 comedy Le Placard (English title: The Closet), is such an insignificant shadow of a person that even he recognizes his own reputation as a “drag.” He often dreams that, while being born, not even his mother notices that he’s already left the womb and is standing in the corner; as a result, the doctor continues to tell her to push. Yes, even in his own subconscious, he doesn’t merit attention.

Still, there’s hope for him, even if he himself doesn’t recognize it. When his new neighbor, Belone (Michel Aumont), prevents him from committing suicide on a particular nasty day at work (he literally gets shoved off the company photo and overhears of his impending layoff in the men’s room), a friendship between this interesting old man and this utterly uninteresting younger one develops, one in which the former brainstorms a way for the hapless Pignon to not only save his job but perhaps his reputation as well.

Remember that old Steve Guttenberg film in which his sister (Shelley Long) transforms him from a lonely bachelor into a “mysterious biker from New Zealand” in order to attract Jamie Gertz? (Okay, me neither, but you get the point.) Well, Belone takes the opposite tack with Pignon. Think Three’s Company instead. The way he sees it, the only way that his new protege can kill two birds with one stone — save his job and redeem himself to his officemates — is to persuade them all that he’s gay.

Le Placard doesn’t make any pretense at exploring complex gay and lesbian issues. Indeed, it occasionally teeters on the brink of playing to age-old stereotypes about homosexuals, particularly in the portrayal of the company personnel director, Santini (Gerard Depardieu). Santini, who prides himself on being a big, bad brute with a particular hatred towards gays, finds himself in the awkward position of having to be especially conciliatory towards Pignon when one of his fellow executives (Thierry Lhermitte, the suave “older man” in Kate Hudson’s love life in Le Divorce) threatens to fire Santini if he doesn’t assume a friendlier relationship with the now-popular Pignon. Santini, of course, struggles mightily with the new role he must take on as a kinder, gentler colleague, and soon finds himself beginning to question his own sexuality.

There isn’t a lot of subtlety in this film, and the story can sometimes get a little too over-the-top .(Hint: the company in which everyone works is known primarily as a manufacturer of condoms. You see where this is going, right?) However, there’s something sweet and endearing about Pignon, ably played by Auteuil, who is able to elicit sympathy from the audience (well, this audience, anyway) without betraying the tedious essence of his pathetic character. Depardieu’s transformation from a vicious, crude homophobe to a sexually confused weeper is not a little clumsy and easy to predict, but the esteemed actor pulls it off, throwing himself fully into the role.

I got the sense as I watched this film that the director was trying to capture the same breezy, happy-go-lucky attitude that dominated much of the romantic comedy genre in the 1960′s. Bright lighting, avant-garde interiors that look as if everyone lives and works in IKEA showrooms, and the sleek, muted wardrobes reminded me of Doris Day-Rock Hudson films, with their pastel-infused sets and eternal blue skies. Even Pignon’s romantic interest, the willowy and self-assured Mlle Bertrand (the lovely Michele Laroque), appears to be channeling Ms. Day’s famous onscreen persona, with her tomboyish grace, the 60′s flip hairdo with the golden blond highlights, and her sophisticated, elegant sheath dresses. The plotline may be different — this time, the Tony Randall role of uptight, slightly effeminate organization man is the lead character, not the sidekick, a comment about the postmodern hero if ever there was one — and the sex may be a little more explicit, but all the classic elements of screwball comedy are here: the “misunderstanding,” the question of will-she-or-won’t-she (or, in this case, it’s is-he-or-isn’t-he), the quirky and hilarious secondary characters, rapid-fire repartee, the requisite slapstick.

Le Placard won’t enthrall audiences with any profound thoughts about the human condition, but it does provide a couple of hours of the warm and funny fuzzies. Fans of romantic comedies and workplace satires will appreciate its lighthearted approach to the complications of modern life, work and sexual politics. It may not always be on the side of political correctness, but perhaps therein lies much of its sunny charm.

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