The Gendarme and the Creatures from Outer Space
Alright, settle in, grab your beverage of choice (maybe avoid motor oil, just in case), and let's rewind the tape back to 1979. Imagine strolling through the sun-drenched streets of Saint-Tropez, the familiar sight of the Gendarmerie promising another round of bureaucratic bungling and seaside shenanigans. But this time? This time, the biggest threat isn't a nudist invasion or reckless drivers, but honest-to-goodness aliens drinking oil and clanking around in shiny metal suits. Welcome, friends, to the utterly bonkers world of Le Gendarme et les Extra-terrestres, or as many of us encountered it on worn-out VHS, The Gendarme and the Creatures from Outer Space.
### Same Gendarmes, New Problem: Little Green...ish Men
The setup is classic Gendarme, which is half the charm. Our beloved, perpetually wound-up Maréchal des Logis-Chef Ludovic Cruchot, played with incomparable manic genius by the legendary Louis de Funès, is back patrolling the Côte d'Azur. Alongside him is the long-suffering Adjudant Gerber (Michel Galabru, the perfect comedic anchor to Cruchot's whirlwind) and the rest of the familiar, bumbling brigade (Maurice Risch as Beaupied gets some great moments). Life is hilariously routine until one of the gendarmes encounters a flying saucer. Naturally, only Cruchot truly believes him (after his own encounter), setting the stage for peak Gendarme chaos as he tries to convince his skeptical superiors and the disbelieving public that Saint-Tropez has become ground zero for an alien invasion.
### The Louis de Funès Show, Now with Saucers
Let's be clear: this film, like the entire series, runs on the high-octane fuel of Louis de Funès. His performance is a masterclass in physical comedy and facial contortion. The man could communicate more panic, indignation, and scheming glee with a single twitch of his eyebrow than most actors manage in an entire monologue. It’s fascinating to know that de Funès wasn't just the star; he also co-wrote the screenplay alongside director Jean Girault and Richard Balducci, ensuring the Gendarme's unique brand of frantic energy pulsed through every scene, even when dealing with extraterrestrials. Watching him try to differentiate human from alien (by thwacking them – the aliens, being robotic, make a hollow metallic sound!) is pure, unadulterated slapstick gold. His tiny frame vibrating with fury or terror is still laugh-out-loud funny.
### Practical Effects from a Galaxy Far, Far... Away from Hollywood
Now, let's talk about those "Creatures from Outer Space." Released just a couple of years after Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the special effects here are... well, let's call them charmingly European and decidedly not ILM. The flying saucer looks like a classic B-movie prop, shiny and endearingly simple. The aliens themselves are stiff, metallic figures, often played by actors in slightly cumbersome suits. Their key characteristic? They are perfect duplicates of humans but drink oil and rust when wet. Their transformation effect, a sort of shimmering dissolve, feels wonderfully analogue in today's CGI world. There’s a tangible quality to it all – you know those were real props, real suits, real (if simple) contraptions making things happen on set. Remember how convincing, or at least solid, those kinds of effects felt on a fuzzy CRT screen late at night? It didn't need to be seamless; it just needed to be there, sparking the imagination. The fact that this goofy sci-fi comedy hybrid became a colossal hit in France, selling over 6 million tickets on a budget of around 12 million French Francs, speaks volumes about its appeal, regardless of cutting-edge effects.
### Riviera Rendezvous with Robots
The comedy hinges on the clash between the mundane bureaucracy of the Gendarmerie and the outlandish sci-fi threat. Director Jean Girault, who helmed all six Gendarme films, knew exactly how to orchestrate this chaos. The familiar Saint-Tropez locations become battlegrounds for farcical encounters. Watching Cruchot lead his men on increasingly desperate (and ridiculous) missions to expose the aliens – often involving high-speed chases in their little police cars, elaborate traps that inevitably backfire, and plenty of shouting – is the core joy here. The plot is episodic, essentially a series of vignettes showcasing de Funès reacting to the escalating alien absurdity. It’s silly, it’s repetitive, but it’s delivered with such gusto that it’s hard not to get swept along.
### A French Phenomenon, A Cult Oddity
While Louis de Funès was a comedic titan in France and across Europe (think The Mad Adventures of Rabbi Jacob or the Fantômas series), the Gendarme films remained largely a continental phenomenon. Finding this one on VHS often felt like discovering a weird, colourful secret – a slice of French slapstick unlike anything coming out of Hollywood. It wasn’t trying to be serious sci-fi; it was using the alien invasion trope as a new playground for its established comedic formula. Critics at the time might have shrugged, but audiences, particularly in France, adored it. Seeing it now evokes that specific feeling of late-night channel surfing or browsing the "Foreign Films" shelf at the video store and stumbling upon something utterly unexpected.
Rating: 7/10
Justification: The rating reflects the film's high entertainment value driven by Louis de Funès' comedic brilliance and the sheer, joyful absurdity of the premise. It delivers exactly what it promises: Gendarme slapstick with a goofy sci-fi twist. Points are docked for the undeniably dated effects and somewhat repetitive structure, but its energy, charm, and status as a beloved European comedy classic earn it a solid score. It's pure, unpretentious fun.
Final Take: The Gendarme and the Creatures from Outer Space is a delightful time capsule – a fizzy cocktail of French farce and B-movie sci-fi, served with a heavy dose of de Funès' manic energy. It’s proof that sometimes, all you need for a memorable movie night is a sunny seaside town, some bumbling cops, and aliens who sound like tin cans when you hit them. They truly don't make 'em like this anymore.