Le prince des Six Jours: A dusty trip to the cycling track

Is it worth the watch?

If you have an itch for vintage French films or just happen to really like watching grainy footage of old bicycles, this might be your thing. If you need a fast-paced thriller, stay far away. It moves at the pace of a man walking his dog on a Sunday. 🚲

The whole thing feels like a time capsule that someone accidentally left in the rain. Some of the performances are so stiff they might as well be made of cardboard, but then you get these sudden moments of life that catch you off guard. Like when Paul Asselin just stares off into the middle distance during a quiet moment. It feels uncomfortably real.

The cycling scenes are a total mess in the best way possible. They don't have that slick, modern editing style where everything is cut every half-second. Instead, you just watch them go in circles until you’re hypnotized. It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in The Pest, though with way more spandex and sweat.

I found myself staring at the background extras more than the main actors. There’s one guy in the third row of the crowd who spends the entire race eating a sandwich and looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. Why did they keep that take? Who knows. I loved it.

There’s a weird rhythm to the dialogue, too. It’s snappy but empty, like they’re trying to sound like important athletes but mostly just end up sounding like they’re reciting grocery lists. It’s not quite as charming as The Old Homestead, but it has its own weird, dusty appeal.

The cinematography is… well, it exists. It’s not trying to be fancy. It just plants the camera and prays for something interesting to happen in the frame. Occasionally, the lighting gets so flat that the actors look like paper cutouts against the track. It’s charmingly incompetent in spots.

If you’re looking for a deep, life-changing experience, look elsewhere. This is the kind of movie you put on when you’re folding laundry and don't want to think too hard. It’s a relic, plain and simple.

• That one scene where the bicycle wheel wobbles for way too long.
• The weirdly upbeat music that plays during the most depressing dialogue.
• Paulette Dubost manages to steal every single scene she's in, even when she's just standing there.
• The ending just sort of… stops. No big payoff. Just lights out.

It isn't a masterpiece. It isn't even a particularly 'good' film by most standards. But it’s got enough grit to keep you from turning it off. Maybe that’s enough. 🏁