Vaccin 48: When honesty becomes a total nightmare

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, Vaccin 48 is for the kind of person who likes their comedy a bit dusty and frantic. If you enjoy old-school French farce where people just sort of yell at each other while everything falls apart, you’ll have a ball. If you need pacing that makes sense or a plot that doesn't just loop into more screaming, stay away.

The whole thing kicks off with Professor Poponof, who is exactly the kind of movie scientist you’d expect—lots of hair, lots of gesturing, and a complete lack of common sense. He catches Amédée, a burglar, and decides: Why not? Let’s test this serum. It’s that exact brand of irresponsible science that makes these old films feel so weirdly human.

Once Amédée gets the juice, the movie stops being a heist flick and becomes a social demolition derby. He can't stop telling the truth. To his wife, to his boss, to random people on the street. It’s brutal, really. Watching him try to hold his tongue is like watching a car crash in slow motion, only with more hats.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Vaccin 48 (1934) through its definitive frames.

The rhythm here is all over the place. Sometimes it’s snappy, other times it just sort of hangs there while someone delivers a monologue that feels like it was written on a napkin five minutes before the cameras rolled. It lacks the polish of something like Dancing Lady, but that’s kind of the point, right? It feels lived-in and slightly cracked.

Odd little things I noticed:

• The apartment set looks like it’s held together by tape and pure optimism.
• Amédée’s face when he realizes he’s about to say something terrible is pure gold.
• There’s a scene involving a door that lasts about three seconds too long.
• The lighting in the lab is suspiciously bright, like they’re trying to hide the fact that there’s no actual equipment on the desks.

It’s not a masterpiece. It doesn't try to be. It’s just a movie about a guy who can’t shut up, and honestly, that’s a relatable enough struggle. There are moments where you think, Wait, did they really just do that? And then the next scene happens, and you’ve already moved on. It’s chaotic, a bit silly, and perfectly fine for a rainy Tuesday night when you don’t want to think too hard about A Modern Mephisto or other, heavier stuff.

Maybe it’s not the most sophisticated comedy out there. But it’s got a heartbeat. And sometimes that’s all you really need. 🧪