Stuck in the middle: Watching L'âne de Buridan

Is it worth the time?

If you have a soft spot for vintage French comedies that rely on doors slamming and people hiding in closets, you’ll probably have a decent time with L'âne de Buridan. It is not for the person who needs high-octane pacing or a complex, gritty plot. If you find old-fashioned stage plays boring, skip this one entirely.

The whole premise is built on that old philosophical paradox about the donkey that starves because it can’t choose between two piles of hay. Except here, the donkey is just a guy who can't pick between his wife and his mistress. Classic, right?

René Lefèvre plays the lead with this frantic, wide-eyed energy that makes you want to both shake him and laugh at his misfortune. He looks like he’s perpetually seconds away from a nervous breakdown, which is honestly the only way to play this kind of role.

The dialogue moves so fast you might miss half the jokes if you’re checking your phone. It’s got that snappy, rhythmic quality of the era. Sometimes it feels like they’re racing to finish the scene before the film reel runs out.

I noticed a weird moment where the background extras seem completely frozen, like statues in a museum while the main cast is going ballistic in the foreground. It’s a bit distracting, but somehow it adds to the artificial, stagey vibe of the whole thing.

It definitely lacks the raw, unpolished feel of something like Hate, which hits much harder in different ways. This is fluff, but it’s high-quality fluff.

Odd observations:

• The furniture in the drawing-room scenes looks remarkably uncomfortable.
• There is a reaction shot from Colette Darfeuil that lingers about three seconds too long. It’s almost eerie.
• The lighting in the second act is surprisingly moody for a comedy, almost like they were filming a noir by accident.

I kept thinking about The Face in the Fog while watching this, mainly because the contrast in tone is so wild. You go from shadowy mysteries to this guy running around in circles because he’s afraid of his own wife finding out he’s got a side hustle in romance.

Is it a masterpiece? No. Is it a fun way to spend an hour feeling like you’re sitting in a cramped, velvet-seated theater in 1930s Paris? Yeah, it really is. Just don't ask me to explain the ending, because I'm still not entirely sure how he got out of that one. 🤷‍♂️