Boubouroche: When being a nice guy is a trap

Is this for you?

If you like your comedies with a heavy dose of social cruelty, you’ll probably find something to love here. It’s definitely not for folks who need a hero to root for, or people who get annoyed by characters who just won't stand up for themselves. Seriously, you’ll want to shake the lead character by the shoulders for most of the runtime.

The whole thing feels like a stage play that barely managed to escape the proscenium arch. It’s cramped. It’s talky. It’s very 1933.

The premise

Our guy, Boubouroche, is a sweet, simple man who is completely blinded by his love for a woman who is, let’s be honest, absolutely playing him for a fool. She’s got a lover on the side, and the way the neighborhood knows about it while he remains totally clueless is just painful to watch. It’s one of those setups where you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when it finally does, the sound is muffled by the sheer absurdity of his reaction.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Boubouroche (1933) through its definitive frames.

There is this one moment where he catches them—well, almost—and the mental gymnastics he performs to keep believing his own fantasy? It’s kind of a masterclass in denial. It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in M, though obviously in a completely different genre, mostly because of how isolated the character feels within his own little social bubble.

The vibe

The performances are very much of their time. Lots of dramatic gesturing and wide eyes. Madeleine Renaud is sharp as a tack here, which makes the contrast with the bumbling men around her feel intentional. She’s the only one actually operating in the real world.

The movie doesn't really care about being "cinematic." It’s more interested in the cadence of the insults and the way people posture in small, cluttered rooms. You can almost smell the stale coffee and bad intentions.

• The pacing is weird. It drags, then it sprints, then it just sort of stops.
• The dialogue is sharp enough to cut, even if you have to sit through some filler to get to the good parts.
• The ending is... well, it’s a choice. You’ll either laugh or throw your remote at the screen.

It’s not as polished as The Wizard, but it’s got a grittier, nastier heart. It’s a bit of a weird artifact. If you're into watching people make terrible life choices in black and white, give it a shot. Otherwise, maybe skip it. ☕