Alright, let's rewind the tape. Picture this: the flickering glow of the CRT, the slight hum from the VCR, and a stack of rented tapes promising a night of cinematic adventure. Sometimes, amongst the usual action heroes and slasher villains, you'd stumble upon something a little… different. Something international, maybe a bit goofy, with a cover that screamed pure 80s charm. That's exactly the vibe of Claude Zidi's 1980 French comedy, Inspector Blunder (or Inspecteur la Bavure for the purists). Finding this tape felt like unearthing a weird little gem, and popping it in often resulted in bewildered chuckles and pure Gallic silliness.

The premise is classic farce: Michel Clément (Coluche) is the spectacularly incompetent son of a police hero. He dreams of following in his father's footsteps but manages to bumble his way through the police academy, graduating dead last purely by accident. Meanwhile, notorious public enemy number one, Roger Morzini (Gérard Depardieu – yes, that Gérard Depardieu, looking lean and menacing before his later, larger-than-life roles), has escaped and is undergoing plastic surgery to change his appearance. Through a series of ludicrous events involving a crusading journalist, Marie-Anne Prossant (Annie Girardot), Clément accidentally becomes credited with Morzini's capture and finds himself a national hero, much to the actual criminal's fury.
What follows is pure slapstick and situational comedy, driven entirely by Clément's staggering ineptitude. This isn't the suave, calculated chaos of Clouseau; Clément is genuinely, profoundly clumsy and clueless. Coluche, a massive comedy star in France sadly less known internationally (and whose tragic death in 1986 cut short a vibrant career), embodies this character perfectly. He wasn't just playing a funny character; Coluche was a comedic force of nature, known for his anti-establishment humour and everyman persona, which shines through even in this slapstick role. It's reported that Zidi wrote the part specifically for him, tailoring the gags to his unique brand of physical comedy and timing.

Director Claude Zidi was a master of popular French comedy throughout the 70s and 80s, known for films like Les Sous-doués (The Under-Gifted) and later hits like Les Ripoux (My New Partner). His style here is broad, fast-paced, and relies heavily on visual gags and escalating absurdity. Think less witty wordplay, more people falling over, mistaken identities, and cars doing silly things. It’s a very specific flavour of 80s European comedy that might feel almost quaint now, lacking the cynicism or meta-humour prevalent today.
Watching it on VHS, possibly with slightly dodgy dubbing or hastily-read subtitles, only added to the charm. The slightly fuzzy picture quality somehow seemed appropriate for Clément’s own blurred understanding of the situations he found himself in. Remember how certain gags just landed differently on tape, maybe requiring a quick rewind to catch the absurdity again? Inspector Blunder is full of those moments. The scene where Clément tries to navigate a crime scene, or his disastrous attempts at surveillance, are pure physical comedy gold, relying on Coluche's commitment to the bit.


Let's be honest, some elements haven't aged perfectly. The pacing can feel frantic yet repetitive, and some of the humour leans into stereotypes that were common then but might raise an eyebrow now. The plot itself is tissue-thin, merely a framework for Coluche's antics and Depardieu's simmering rage. Annie Girardot, a fantastic dramatic actress (Rocco and His Brothers, The Piano Teacher), does her best as the straight-woman journalist caught in the crossfire, providing a necessary grounding amidst the chaos.
Despite its flaws, the film was a huge hit in France, a testament to Coluche's star power and Zidi's knack for connecting with audiences. Finding this Inspector Blunder VHS review candidate felt like rediscovering a specific time capsule – a reminder of when French comedies, even the deeply silly ones, could easily cross borders via the magic of the video rental store. It’s not sophisticated, but it possesses an undeniable energy and a certain innocence in its desire to simply make you laugh.
Inspector Blunder is a whirlwind of 80s French farce, powered by the unique talent of Coluche. It's loud, it's clumsy, and it's undeniably a product of its time. If you're looking for subtle satire, look elsewhere. But if you have a soft spot for broad physical comedy, European cinema oddities from the VHS era, and the sheer chaotic energy that Claude Zidi often brought to the screen, this is a fun, nostalgic trip. It’s like finding that half-forgotten candy bar you loved as a kid – maybe not as amazing as you remembered, but the rush of nostalgia is sweet nonetheless.
Rating: 6/10 - The score reflects its undeniable charm and Coluche's brilliant comedic presence, balanced against a paper-thin plot and humour that feels distinctly, sometimes awkwardly, of its era. It's more a nostalgic curiosity than a timeless classic, but a worthwhile watch for fans of French comedy or bizarre VHS discoveries.
Final Thought: It might not be high art, but Inspector Blunder is a perfect example of the kind of unpretentious, slightly baffling, but ultimately good-natured fun you could reliably uncover in the glorious clutter of the video store comedy section. Just don't expect precision policing.