Michel Hazanavicius: OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies (2006)
http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/9204/oss117o.jpg
Michel Hazanavicius: OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies (2006)
The French satirize themselves, lovingly recreating a tacky genre
Review: Chris Knipp
The French call Jean Bruce, on whose stories and characters this tongue-in-cheek remake of Fifties style spy movies is based, "our very own Ian Fleming." In the post-war period (before 007 even existed, in fact) M. Bruce came up with his creation, Hubert Bonisseur de la Bath, alias OSS 117, and a whole string of popular Sixties French films directed by André Hunebelle resulted. The last one was in 1970. OSS 117 Takes a Vacation it was called--and that vacation proved to be a long one.
Thirty-five years later Michel Hazanavicius brought OSS 117 back to the French screen in a lighthearted but accurate parody that also mocks the jingoistic complacencies, machismo, homophobia, racism, and colonialism (yes, all that) of the Fourth Republic that Bruce's superspy exemplifies. The result, starring the already extremely successful French comic Jean Dujardin (of Brice de Nice)--so admired he got a Best Actor César nomination--very unusual for a comic role--did so well there's a sequel by the same director and star, OSS 117: Rio Doesn't Answer, coming out next year. Cairo, Nest of Spies (French title: OSS 117: Le Caire, nid d'espions) has also been a hit with US festival audiences and now two years later is having a small run in US theaters.
You have to get into the spirit of the thing. It helps Anglos that Dujardin looks a fair amount like Sean Connery in his Bond days, though he flashes a huge smile Connery was too dignified for, and sometimes with best pals falls into gales of laughter that threaten to go on for minutes.
The plot isn't too important. The film begins with a black and white preview segment about OSS 117 trouncing some Nazis on a plane. Then the post-war hero is sent to Cairo, vintage 1955, to check up on France's undercover unit there. Their agent, Jack Jefferson (Philippe Lefebvre), seems to have disappeared, and so has a Russian ship. M. de la Bath goes through a series of scrapes, hotel rooms, and women and comes out unscathed, in spite of being hung upside down by some Islamic extremists and dropped into an undersea graveyard with stones tied to his bound legs. Untying knots is no worry for OSS 117. Nor is connecting with women, especially a daughter of King Farouk, Princess Al Tarouk (Aure Atika), and Jack Jefferson's former assistant, at first resistent, Larmina El Akmar Betouche (Bérénice Bejo) and the former assistant of Jack Jefferson, Larmina El Akmar Betouche, who at first shows no interest but then succumbs.
117's a complete idiot, however, about cultures other than his own. He thinks every local will be terribly flattered to be awarded postcard size photographs of French PM René Coty. He thinks the ancient Egyptians built the Suez Canal and believes he can learn Arabic in an evening. Like the doltish native French bureaucrats in Kechiche's recent Secret of the Grain he thinks "inshallah" is a toast. 117 knows little and appreciates less about Islam. He gets up and silences a muezzin because the call to prayer annoys him. Dujardin's slick impersonation makes OSS 117 a suave idiot, simpatico but silly, who can seduce women and subdue bad guys with ease and sometimes shines despite his stupidity and prejudice. He can outdo himself sometimes. He demonstrates an inability to use Arabic properly--despite his yelling "Allahu akbar!" with the extremists, they spot him immediately--yet he not only has a convincing little conversation with a waiter but poses as a Cairo oud player, singing a song in Arabic while doing a dance. The oud show is a highpoint: Dujardin is a gifted physical comic.
The thing is, Cairo, Nest of Spies may look tacky, but it's all intentional, and true to the Jean Bruce films it's based on. Everything, film, focal lengths, lighting, makeup, costume, and decor, is niftily early Sixties in its look. This is supposed to be Cairo, but it's not: the actors and settings, though given a superficial Egyptian makeover, are really Moroccan--a logical choice considering everybody is required to speak French, not English. The point is, those movies never got the locales right and didn't really try; to have shot in Cairo would have given the wrong effect.
Certainly what's most sophisticated about this movie is its post-modern ability to recreate a dated genre with spot-on accuracy. The parody is not so much of the films as of the period chauvinism. This is a rarity and it works. But if the French audience loves it and US festivals responded well, such an artifact has little stateside box office potential.
