Although I loved French classes at school, and have visited France on more than one occasion, twenty years of having no need to speak it in my daily life has rendered my experience of French movies the same as most of us. I read the subtitles and pick up those few small phrases where the character asks those simple touristy questions regarding boulangeries and the price of a cup of cafe. Or when they swear. So last week when I noticed "La Moustache" on the World Movies channel I looked forward to the experience of watching a French movie that obviously by the title had something to do with a moustache.
Those two criteria were met with a gusto. The rest of the movie was just vaguely bizarre and left more questions than it answered. Plot spoiler follows.
Marc has a moustache that apparently can be seen only by him and law enforcement officers. The law enforcement part is not actually a large part of the movie, but good looking blonde female police officers validating your average certifiable moustache wearing French man need mentioning in my book. After shaving off his signature moustache to gauge peoples reactions Marc is surprised to find that no-one, not even his girlfriend, ever remembers him having one. He spends an inordinate amount of time finding photos and other evidence to prove his recent hirsuteness all of which mysteriously disappears when he attempts to present it to his disbelieving friends.
After a period of believing that people are pulling his leg as some sort of over the top practical joke, he starts on a downward spiral into madness, and heads to Hong Kong to clear his head. Why Hong Kong is the destination of choice for the mentally unstable is not made apparent, nor is why he spends so much of his time on ferries. After living in a small hotel room for a few weeks and growing a beard, he one day finds his girlfriend there, and rather than the confrontation he expects after having run out on her, he finds that he is actually with her on holiday. He never went missing. He never had issues with his friends. He was never alone. We are left with twilight zone music playing in our head as we wonder if he ever had a moustache at all.
And lastly back to my French skills. It probably makes a lot of sense to native French speakers, but La Moustache? A moustache is feminine? Should I call my mo Shirley from now on?
maybe he just had a real bad case of de ja vue?
Posted by: mitzi | September 03, 2009 at 10:53 PM