Alright, fellow tape travelers, dim the lights, maybe adjust the tracking just a little… Tonight on VHS Heaven, we’re pulling out a gem that might have sat slightly further down the shelf in the comedy section, perhaps nestled between a well-worn Zucker brothers tape and a forgotten stand-up special. We’re talking about the frantic French farce from 1980, Pierre Richard’s It's Not Me, It's Him (or C'est pas moi, c'est lui for the purists). If your video store adventures ever led you down the foreign film aisle, you might just remember the distinctive, slightly frazzled face of Richard peering out from the cover.

The setup is pure, classic farce: Pierre Richard, playing… well, Pierre Richard, essentially – the perpetually flustered, kind-hearted ghostwriter named, fittingly, Pierre Renaud. He toils thanklessly for a pompous, self-absorbed screen star, Georges Vallier (Aldo Maccione, oozing oily charm). When Vallier needs a fresh screenplay for a wealthy producer vacationing in Tunisia, he sends Pierre in his stead, armed only with Vallier's terrible playboy reputation and a suitcase full of someone else's charisma. It's a recipe for escalating chaos, handled with that particular brand of Gallic silliness that Richard practically patented.
Richard, who also directed and co-wrote the film (talk about a triple threat!), leans heavily into his established screen persona here. If you know him from his iconic turn in The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe (1972), you'll instantly recognize the DNA: the well-meaning innocent stumbling through situations far beyond his control, leaving a trail of delightful destruction in his wake. He's a master of physical comedy, but it's not just about pratfalls; it's the bewildered expressions, the nervous energy, the way his lanky frame seems to react independently to stress.

Part of the fun here is the glorious location shooting in Tunisia. This wasn't some backlot approximation; Richard took the production to Tunis and Monastir, giving the film a vibrant, sun-drenched backdrop that contrasts beautifully with Pierre's increasingly frantic predicament. Remember how exotic those location shoots felt on a fuzzy CRT screen? The bright blues of the Mediterranean, the bustling markets – it added a layer of escapism that felt genuinely transportive back in the day. It wasn't just a setting; it felt like a character, amplifying the fish-out-of-water absurdity of Pierre trying to impersonate the suave (and utterly terrible) Vallier.
The comedy hinges on the dynamic between Richard and Aldo Maccione. While Maccione isn't physically present for much of the Tunisian escapade, his character's ludicrous persona hangs over everything Pierre does. Maccione was a perfect foil – his brand of exaggerated confidence playing brilliantly against Richard's inherent vulnerability. We also get the lovely Valérie Mairesse as Charlotte, an actress caught up in the mistaken identity, who brings a necessary warmth and serves as Pierre’s potential romantic interest amidst the mayhem.


While we often talk about practical effects in terms of explosions and stunt work in action flicks, let's appreciate the practicality of the comedy here. This isn't CGI-assisted slapstick. It's meticulously timed physical performance, cleverly staged misunderstandings, and dialogue bouncing around like a pinball. Think about the sheer effort involved in coordinating some of those sequences – a near-miss collision, a perfectly timed door slam, the domino effect of one small lie escalating into utter pandemonium. It feels tangible, grounded in a way that purely digital gags often lack. There’s a certain raw energy to watching Richard navigate these comedic minefields, knowing it’s mostly achieved through performance, timing, and clever direction.
This film was part of Richard's incredibly popular run in French cinema during the 70s and early 80s. While perhaps not reaching the international fame of Tall Blond Man, it was a solid hit domestically and found its audience on VHS across Europe and beyond. It’s a prime example of the kind of accessible, slightly goofy foreign comedy that could sometimes break through – a pleasant alternative when you’d exhausted the Hollywood blockbusters. A Retro Fun Fact: Richard often played characters named François Perrin or Pierre Renaud, creating a sort of recurring comedic archetype across his films, making each feel like another chapter in the life of France's favorite blunderer.
Look, It's Not Me, It's Him isn't high art. The plot is wafer-thin, relying entirely on the charm of its performers and the escalating absurdity of the situation. Some of the humor definitely feels… well, very 1980. But viewed through the warm glow of nostalgia (and maybe a slightly fuzzy VHS transfer, real or imagined), it’s incredibly endearing. Pierre Richard is simply magnetic, a unique comedic talent whose physical grace and expressive face carry the film effortlessly. The pacing is brisk, the scenery is lovely, and the core conceit remains genuinely funny.

Justification: The film scores high on charm, nostalgia, and the sheer comedic talent of Pierre Richard. The Tunisian locations add great production value, and the dynamic with Maccione (even in spirit) works well. It loses a few points for a very light plot and some humor that hasn't aged perfectly, but its energy and Richard's performance make it a delightful trip back.
Final Take: For fans of classic French comedy or anyone who misses the days of discovering slightly offbeat gems at the video store, It's Not Me, It's Him is a charming reminder of Pierre Richard's golden age – pure, unadulterated, practical silliness served with a side of sunshine. Sometimes, the simplest pleasures are the best.