### Glitter, Laughter, and Riviera Nightlife on Fuzzy Tape
A burst of feathers, sequins, and accordion music—there’s never been an entrance quite like the one in Birds of a Feather. Long before The Birdcage glam-rocked Robin Williams into late-90s VHS ubiquity, La Cage aux Folles owned the shelves of savvy video stores. For those of us who stumbled upon that odd little clamshell case (sometimes misfiled under "foreign cop comedy," occasionally even in the horror aisle by confused clerks), this VHS was something delightfully different—a rollicking, heartwarmingly subversive French farce that wore its colors as proudly as Zaza Napoli’s wardrobe.
What’s remarkable in watching this movie—especially through that slightly snowy analog haze—is how it pushes boundaries with a breeziness that still feels, well, a little bit dangerous. Set in sun-drenched Saint-Tropez but filmed largely in the bustling, kitschy neon of Parisian nightclubs, Birds of a Feather is both a quintessential product of its 1970s moment and a spiritual torchbearer for countless 80s and 90s screwball comedies.
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### Family Values, French Riviera–Style
Let’s set the scene. Birds of a Feather, directed with infectious energy by Édouard Molinaro (Oscar, Dracula and Son), tells the story of Renato (the great Ugo Tognazzi), owner of the fabulous drag nightclub La Cage aux Folles, and his high-strung partner, Albin (the inimitable Michel Serrault). When Renato’s son Laurent decides to marry the daughter of a notoriously uptight, ultra-conservative politician (Michel Galabru, who brings his own gravitas and comic pathos), the stage is set for chaos, mistaken identities, and the sort of gender-bending hi-jinks that seemed delightfully, almost audaciously, ahead of their time.
But the true heart of the film pulses in the chemistry between Tognazzi and Serrault. Their comedic timing isn’t merely sharp—it’s balletic, honed on the French stage version that predated the film. Serrault’s Zaza is an operatic masterpiece of both vulnerability and bravado; at once the emotional lynchpin and the comedic engine. Watching him break down, then rally with style, you begin to realize why the film became a global sensation, raking in box office numbers that would make most American indies blush (over $20 million in the U.S.—nearly unheard of for a subtitled flick in those days).
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### Retro Fun Facts: Behind the Beaded Curtain
Here’s a retro fun fact to file under “unthinkable now:” La Cage aux Folles was the highest-grossing foreign-language film ever released in the U.S. until the late 1990s. It clawed its way up the charts not through slick Hollywood marketing, but by sheer word-of-mouth—queens, critics, and cinephiles whispering its praises up and down the coasts and across the Atlantic. Even the American tagline had flair: "A Comedy That Proves a Family Is Something You Make, Not Something You're Born With."
Casting nearly took a wildly different turn: Jean Poiret, who co-wrote the play and starred as Renato on stage, declined the film role, opening the door for Tognazzi. Molinaro, known for deftly blending satire and slapstick, was at first considered a risky pick for something with this much emotional resonance—but his light touch is exactly what lets even the campiest jokes land without malice.
Those costumes? Serrault’s gowns were custom-stitched by Parisian drag designers—imagine them twinkling under the club’s real mirrored disco balls. Every performance number was shot with live audiences from neighboring cabarets, lending sweaty authenticity to the spectacle (and more than a few complaints from the lighting crew, who struggled to keep the glare in check on 16mm film). No computer-generated crowds here—what you saw was what was packed onto the set, feathers, sweat, and all.
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### Laughter That Crosses Borders
There’s a palpable physicality to the comedy—slamming doors, stumbling up staircases, dramatic flair for the literal and figurative drag. The VHS format, oddly enough, doesn’t dim but deepens the movie’s boisterous charm. That soft, warm analogue look suits Molinaro’s bustling frames. The broad, almost cartoonish set pieces—the dinner party melting down; the desperate, hilarious attempts to "straighten up" their apartment—hit all the harder because you sense every bead of effort in Tognazzi’s tight smile and Serrault’s desperate, wide-eyed twirls.
The humor remains both broad and sophisticated—think Victor/Victoria meets The Odd Couple with a distinctly Riviera flavor. Yet beneath the titters is a firm and fearless embrace of non-traditional family, a sentiment that landed like a bombshell during the more conservative climate of its day. For many queer viewers, this was among the first VHS tapes that offered not just laughs but resonance—a knowing wink across the slipstream of home video’s golden age.
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### Influence, Imitation, and a Peacock’s Legacy
You can’t discuss Birds of a Feather (or La Cage aux Folles, for the international crowd) without acknowledging its ripple effects. Three official sequels (including the underrated La Cage aux Folles II, also available on late-night cable in the 80s), stage revivals, and—of course—the 1996 Hollywood remake, The Birdcage with Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, all bounced off the original’s high-wire blend of farce and affection. But there’s an irrepressibility to Molinaro’s direction, and a chic Frenchness, that no remake really captured.
It’s worth mentioning that critics at the time were divided—some dismissing the film as nothing more than high-camp shtick, others (like Vincent Canby of The New York Times) heralding it as a “laugh machine with surprising soul.” Audiences, though, bought, rented, and rewatched this one into oblivion—helping make it as much a part of 80s and 90s VHS culture as Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or Trading Places.
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### Our Final Act: Still as Sparkling as Ever?
Years and decades later, what’s left is not just the glitter, but the warmth. Birds of a Feather endures because it’s riotously funny, but also because it cares deeply about its characters, even when they’re at their most farcical. Some references may have aged, and yes, the fashion is deliciously (alarmingly?) of its era. But the message? It’s more universal than ever.
VHS Heaven Rating: 8.5/10
A joyous, old-school French farce with heart, Birds of a Feather is a cult 80s VHS movie that still delivers laughs (and maybe a sentimental twinge) for any fan willing to sit down with some analog static and a slice of Riviera nightlife. The definitive drag comedy before drag was cool—and absolutely still worth queuing up for one more sentimental viewing. Pull the curtains, turn up the synth, and watch the feathers fly.