Le cave se rebiffe

Yet another vision of these counterfeiters of Paris. But the film does have its moments.

The dialogue is one thing, penned here by Michel Audiard, but with Jean Gabin doing his late-career thing: his performance is so predictable it's almost embarrassing. If we strip away Jean Gabin's tics and schematisms, the rest of the cast is superb and more subtle, and well served by Gilles Grangier's dialogue and direction.

One of the pleasures of the film is to see each of the parties make the other believe in an ensemble that is a festival of liars. Jean Gabin, the cellar-dweller, Bernard Blier and his clan, the operating principle of the plot is the lies they all practice.

What's disturbing here is the misogyny and phallocracy, which seems anachronistic today, but which dates the film furiously, very ridiculous in view of the society of the 2020s, to which we can add alcohol and cigarettes, present at all times, as well as racism (Jean Gabin's reaction to savage music). Women are tools, at the stove or sex objects.