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There has been no shortage of Oedipal offspring hellbent on disrupting their parents' lives in comedies of all nationalities. Dutch director Alex van Warmerdam probably handled this tricky subject matter best in his 1986 landmark farce ABEL, pulling double duty by also playing the titular thirty-pushing tyke whose refusal to vacate the homestead wreaks all sorts of increasingly surreal havoc. A huge success in the Netherlands, it firmly established the young filmmaker's reputation through festival screenings around the world, begetting the remarkably similar if decidedly more benign French film TANGUY (2001, Etienne Chatiliez) as a direct result.
Continuing the trend, as well as an intriguing directorial career that has yet to shift into high gear, is Continental art-house cinema actress Julie Delpy with what is already her sixth full length feature, also just the second of these (after her exercise in "fantastique", THE COUNTESS) not to register as a total blab-fest. Don't get me wrong, LOLO (which bears a strong if unacknowledged resemblance to the Duplass Brothers' CYRUS from a few years prior) still has characters yakking it up at regular intervals but these streams of (often scintillating) dialogue usually propel the plot forward at almost breakneck speed, making for a most enjoyable hour and a half. What surprised me most, which may qualify as a leftover from Delpy's recent dabbling in horror cinema, was just how far into darkness the director seemed prepared to take her subject matter in its final stages.
Taking a richly deserved spa holiday in scenic Biarritz with foul-mouthed best friend Ariane (the indomitable Karin Viard in fine form) in tow, forty-something fashion editor Violette (Delpy) finds herself falling unexpectedly in love with local kind-hearted divorced IT specialist Jean-René (Dany Boon) who's already planning to relocate to Paris. Although at the top of his profession, Jean still registers as the French equivalent of a redneck to Paris natives and Violette frets about whether he'll fit in with her image-obsessed crowd.
What she doesn't realize is that the greatest threat to their newfound happiness lies closer to or more accurately inside the home : her 19-year old son Eloi, affectionately known as Lolo, an endearment he definitely doesn't deserve. Portrayed by fresh French heartthrob Vincent Lacoste who became an instant star thanks to Riad Sattouf's 2009 surprise smash LES BEAUX GOSSES (a/k/a THE FRENCH KISSERS), it's easy to see how this charming viper has managed to pull the wool over his mother's eyes for so long, but once there's a man moving in on his territory (a trend that's belatedly revealed as having started with his proper dad) the fangs come out. The pestering starts out innocently enough, the brat pouring itching powder on Jean's clothes (leading to a ridiculously thorough medical exam when Violette suspects he might have what was once euphemistically called a social disease), but soon increases to epic proportions.
This kind of character-based comedy can fall flat on its face without the right actors to carry it. Fortunately, the casting is practically flawless down to the smallest parts, such as the priceless Nicolas Wanczycki (from TV's THE RETURNED) as an unintentionally droll doctor in the hospital emergency room. Delpy can do neurotic as well as Diane Keaton, minus the mannerisms which sometimes mar the latter's artistic achievements, though another director could have conceivably prevented her from the occasional spot of overacting. Audience favorite Dany Boon (who broke all local box office records with BIENVENUE CHEZ LES CH'TIS) might seem like an odd choice to pair up with the highbrow Delpy but his work in Jean-Pierre Jeunet's underrated MICMACS A TIRE-LARIGOT already showed the actor was capable of far more subtlety than his endless string of rowdy crowd-pleasers suggested. His casting actually proves a shrewd move on Delpy's part, an insidious tactic to draw in the punters who usually stay away in droves from her movies.
Visually way more refined than your average point and shoot French farce, courtesy of the venerable Thierry Arbogast (who photographed most of Luc Besson's stuff), LOLO further ups the ante with an eclectic series of soundtrack selections. These range from Andy Williams's irresistible toe-tapper Music to Watch Girls Go By (playing over terrific animated opening credits) to Max Steiner's syrupy Theme from A Summer Place and Etta James belting out Plum Nuts over the end scroll.
Continuing the trend, as well as an intriguing directorial career that has yet to shift into high gear, is Continental art-house cinema actress Julie Delpy with what is already her sixth full length feature, also just the second of these (after her exercise in "fantastique", THE COUNTESS) not to register as a total blab-fest. Don't get me wrong, LOLO (which bears a strong if unacknowledged resemblance to the Duplass Brothers' CYRUS from a few years prior) still has characters yakking it up at regular intervals but these streams of (often scintillating) dialogue usually propel the plot forward at almost breakneck speed, making for a most enjoyable hour and a half. What surprised me most, which may qualify as a leftover from Delpy's recent dabbling in horror cinema, was just how far into darkness the director seemed prepared to take her subject matter in its final stages.
Taking a richly deserved spa holiday in scenic Biarritz with foul-mouthed best friend Ariane (the indomitable Karin Viard in fine form) in tow, forty-something fashion editor Violette (Delpy) finds herself falling unexpectedly in love with local kind-hearted divorced IT specialist Jean-René (Dany Boon) who's already planning to relocate to Paris. Although at the top of his profession, Jean still registers as the French equivalent of a redneck to Paris natives and Violette frets about whether he'll fit in with her image-obsessed crowd.
What she doesn't realize is that the greatest threat to their newfound happiness lies closer to or more accurately inside the home : her 19-year old son Eloi, affectionately known as Lolo, an endearment he definitely doesn't deserve. Portrayed by fresh French heartthrob Vincent Lacoste who became an instant star thanks to Riad Sattouf's 2009 surprise smash LES BEAUX GOSSES (a/k/a THE FRENCH KISSERS), it's easy to see how this charming viper has managed to pull the wool over his mother's eyes for so long, but once there's a man moving in on his territory (a trend that's belatedly revealed as having started with his proper dad) the fangs come out. The pestering starts out innocently enough, the brat pouring itching powder on Jean's clothes (leading to a ridiculously thorough medical exam when Violette suspects he might have what was once euphemistically called a social disease), but soon increases to epic proportions.
This kind of character-based comedy can fall flat on its face without the right actors to carry it. Fortunately, the casting is practically flawless down to the smallest parts, such as the priceless Nicolas Wanczycki (from TV's THE RETURNED) as an unintentionally droll doctor in the hospital emergency room. Delpy can do neurotic as well as Diane Keaton, minus the mannerisms which sometimes mar the latter's artistic achievements, though another director could have conceivably prevented her from the occasional spot of overacting. Audience favorite Dany Boon (who broke all local box office records with BIENVENUE CHEZ LES CH'TIS) might seem like an odd choice to pair up with the highbrow Delpy but his work in Jean-Pierre Jeunet's underrated MICMACS A TIRE-LARIGOT already showed the actor was capable of far more subtlety than his endless string of rowdy crowd-pleasers suggested. His casting actually proves a shrewd move on Delpy's part, an insidious tactic to draw in the punters who usually stay away in droves from her movies.
Visually way more refined than your average point and shoot French farce, courtesy of the venerable Thierry Arbogast (who photographed most of Luc Besson's stuff), LOLO further ups the ante with an eclectic series of soundtrack selections. These range from Andy Williams's irresistible toe-tapper Music to Watch Girls Go By (playing over terrific animated opening credits) to Max Steiner's syrupy Theme from A Summer Place and Etta James belting out Plum Nuts over the end scroll.
A few choice ingredients, such as its foxy female cast and their infectious enthusiasm for all matters intimate, effectively elevate this modest one or two day wonder above the murky masses of early '70s storefront programmers. While there's little chance of ever finding out the real identity of credited producer/director "Willie Creps", it must be said that he meets his demographic's demands with a happy go lucky hippie disposition and as much style as his meager means allowed for. Viewers who value honest eroticism over lavish production should applaud the effort.
An irresistibly tacky marching band rendition of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da accompanies the opening shot of three pairs of shapely ladies' legs as longtime BFF's Clair, Julie and Monica bemoan their lacking love lives with husbands and/or boyfriends. Presumably plucked from the same album, many more Beatles tunes (Hey Jude, Penny Lane, Fool on the Hill, etc.) will suffer the same fate before this flick's over. The set-up, as hackneyed as it is, provides a convenient framework for nearly non-stop nookie. The brief running time of barely over an hour assures things never reach the brink of boredom.
Credits are riddled with silly aliases for all concerned but Nina Fause, Sharon Thorpe and Laura Bourbon star as the love-starved trio who compensate their frustration with copious shopping sprees. Hitched to white collar workaholic Phil (Tyler "Horne" Reynolds), Clair's played by beautiful blonde Fause, the superstar that never happened. Although she started out working for Anthony Spinelli (on DIARY OF A BED and SEX IN THE COMICS), she shot herself in the foot by signing up for a slew of Carlos Tobalina stinkers like JUNGLE BLUE and THE ULTIMATE PLEASURE, with their collaboration on MARILYN AND THE SENATOR (by far his most ambitious endeavor) a comparative bright spot. This was Tyler's breakout from orgy extra duties on Lowell Pickett's COZY COOL and the Mitchell Brothers classics BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR and RESURRECTION OF EVE. Trademark mutton chops already in place, he generates a tender chemistry with Fause in their wedded bliss flashback.
Bountiful brunette Laura Bourbon (prominently featured in Bob Chinn's LOVE SLAVES and Fred Sand's underrated CEREMONY) has an entirely different problem as swinging single Monica, anguished over her inability to accommodate boyfriend John a/k/a His Hugeness Himself, John Holmes. Thank goodness the hard-up Clair steps in to save the day as well as the King from blue balls in an all time barn-burner. Though you would be forgiven for thinking the film's title was chosen at random, it actually refers to Holmes' use of a most peculiar marital aid (of little use to all but the most ridiculously endowed...), a set of brass rings placed upon his manhood to avoid injury of his partners by thrusting it in too deep too soon ! Monica's more evenly matched with cute Jewish guy David (one shot Larry Games), so impressed by their believably passionate lovemaking that he promptly pops the question.
Taking top acting honors in what may well have been her very first film appearance, cult favorite Sharon Thorpe demonstrates her ability to transform a sow's ear into a silk purse as catty catalyst Julie. Taking full advantage of Clair's curiosity, she recounts a same-sex experiment from her college days. Filling the special guest star slot is the always welcome Clair Dia as adventurous coed Marcy, casually violating Thorpe with a double dildo on the water bed. Seeing how her limp-wristed spouse Pete (Peter Hand, another single shot) has been something of a stranger in their bedroom of late, Julie puts the moves on Clair, leading to the musical beds conclusion with a couple of twists, both real and imagined, indicative of a certain degree of ingenuity on the maker's part.
Although obviously low rent, the movie never insults its audience with anything slipshod. The soundtrack's a bit of an acquired taste, agreed, and even so might still bring the crimson glow of shame to the cheeks of those that have actually acquired it, but its very inappropriateness provides a constant source of chuckles. Cinematography by one Ron Helms (Wertheim ?) is crisp and clear and always in focus, with tons of extreme close-ups which always seemed far more numerous in cheap 'n cheerful quickies such as these than their big budget brethren. The sole creative contributor who can be positively identified is editor "Sidney Knight" a/k/a Simon Nuchtern, who passed porn on his way from sexploitation (THE GIRL GRABBERS) to semi-respectability (the 3D slasher SILENT MADNESS) with the dark and brooding THE DEBAUCHERS and THE MORNING AFTER as results. So maybe he's the man ultimately responsible for this sweet little sleeper.
An irresistibly tacky marching band rendition of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da accompanies the opening shot of three pairs of shapely ladies' legs as longtime BFF's Clair, Julie and Monica bemoan their lacking love lives with husbands and/or boyfriends. Presumably plucked from the same album, many more Beatles tunes (Hey Jude, Penny Lane, Fool on the Hill, etc.) will suffer the same fate before this flick's over. The set-up, as hackneyed as it is, provides a convenient framework for nearly non-stop nookie. The brief running time of barely over an hour assures things never reach the brink of boredom.
Credits are riddled with silly aliases for all concerned but Nina Fause, Sharon Thorpe and Laura Bourbon star as the love-starved trio who compensate their frustration with copious shopping sprees. Hitched to white collar workaholic Phil (Tyler "Horne" Reynolds), Clair's played by beautiful blonde Fause, the superstar that never happened. Although she started out working for Anthony Spinelli (on DIARY OF A BED and SEX IN THE COMICS), she shot herself in the foot by signing up for a slew of Carlos Tobalina stinkers like JUNGLE BLUE and THE ULTIMATE PLEASURE, with their collaboration on MARILYN AND THE SENATOR (by far his most ambitious endeavor) a comparative bright spot. This was Tyler's breakout from orgy extra duties on Lowell Pickett's COZY COOL and the Mitchell Brothers classics BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR and RESURRECTION OF EVE. Trademark mutton chops already in place, he generates a tender chemistry with Fause in their wedded bliss flashback.
Bountiful brunette Laura Bourbon (prominently featured in Bob Chinn's LOVE SLAVES and Fred Sand's underrated CEREMONY) has an entirely different problem as swinging single Monica, anguished over her inability to accommodate boyfriend John a/k/a His Hugeness Himself, John Holmes. Thank goodness the hard-up Clair steps in to save the day as well as the King from blue balls in an all time barn-burner. Though you would be forgiven for thinking the film's title was chosen at random, it actually refers to Holmes' use of a most peculiar marital aid (of little use to all but the most ridiculously endowed...), a set of brass rings placed upon his manhood to avoid injury of his partners by thrusting it in too deep too soon ! Monica's more evenly matched with cute Jewish guy David (one shot Larry Games), so impressed by their believably passionate lovemaking that he promptly pops the question.
Taking top acting honors in what may well have been her very first film appearance, cult favorite Sharon Thorpe demonstrates her ability to transform a sow's ear into a silk purse as catty catalyst Julie. Taking full advantage of Clair's curiosity, she recounts a same-sex experiment from her college days. Filling the special guest star slot is the always welcome Clair Dia as adventurous coed Marcy, casually violating Thorpe with a double dildo on the water bed. Seeing how her limp-wristed spouse Pete (Peter Hand, another single shot) has been something of a stranger in their bedroom of late, Julie puts the moves on Clair, leading to the musical beds conclusion with a couple of twists, both real and imagined, indicative of a certain degree of ingenuity on the maker's part.
Although obviously low rent, the movie never insults its audience with anything slipshod. The soundtrack's a bit of an acquired taste, agreed, and even so might still bring the crimson glow of shame to the cheeks of those that have actually acquired it, but its very inappropriateness provides a constant source of chuckles. Cinematography by one Ron Helms (Wertheim ?) is crisp and clear and always in focus, with tons of extreme close-ups which always seemed far more numerous in cheap 'n cheerful quickies such as these than their big budget brethren. The sole creative contributor who can be positively identified is editor "Sidney Knight" a/k/a Simon Nuchtern, who passed porn on his way from sexploitation (THE GIRL GRABBERS) to semi-respectability (the 3D slasher SILENT MADNESS) with the dark and brooding THE DEBAUCHERS and THE MORNING AFTER as results. So maybe he's the man ultimately responsible for this sweet little sleeper.