Okay, rewind your minds with me for a second. Picture the fluorescent hum of the local video store, aisles packed with potential weekend adventures taped onto chunky plastic cassettes. You're scanning the comedy section, maybe looking past the usual Hollywood fare, and your eyes land on a slightly unfamiliar, brightly coloured cover featuring a guy with a round face and an unmistakable glint of mischief. That, my friends, might have been your introduction to the whirlwind of chaos that is Banzaï (1983). And if you grabbed that tape? You were in for a ride.
This isn't just any French comedy; it's a Coluche vehicle, and that alone tells you volumes if you know anything about 80s French pop culture. Coluche wasn't just an actor; he was a phenomenon – a beloved, boundary-pushing comedian whose everyman appeal masked a sharp satirical edge. Here, he plays Michel Bernardin, a mild-mannered employee at 'Planète Assistance', a travel insurance company specializing in rescuing French tourists from sticky situations abroad. The gag? He's desperately trying to hide the true, often dangerous nature of his job from his fiancée, Isabelle (Valérie Mairesse), an air hostess who believes he has a safe, boring desk job. Naturally, their attempts to conceal their real lives lead to escalating farcical situations across multiple continents.
### Globetrotting Gags and Grounded Chaos
What makes Banzaï such a blast, especially looking back from our CGI-saturated present, is its sheer commitment to practical, often frantic, physical comedy and action. Director Claude Zidi, a master craftsman of French popular comedy who also gave us hits like Les Ripoux (1984) (My Undercover Cop) and the Les Sous-doués series, doesn't just rely on dialogue. He throws Coluche headfirst into increasingly absurd scenarios – dodging Triad thugs in Hong Kong, navigating treacherous New York City streets, dealing with exploding cars, and even dangling precariously from aircraft.
Remember how real those near-misses and frantic chases felt back then? There’s a tangible quality to the action here. When a car flips or a stuntman takes a tumble, it feels real because, well, it mostly was. Forget smooth, computer-generated mayhem; this is the glorious, sometimes slightly messy, era of stunt performers earning their paychecks the hard way. One particularly memorable sequence involves Michel trying to discreetly swap places with someone on a moving airport baggage carousel – pure, unadulterated physical comedy that relies entirely on timing and Coluche's willingness to look utterly ridiculous. It's this grounded absurdity, filmed on location in Paris, Hong Kong, and New York (a fairly ambitious scope for a French comedy of the time), that gives the film its unique energy. Apparently, filming the Hong Kong segments presented unique challenges, navigating bustling streets and coordinating stunts amidst the city's vibrant chaos, adding another layer to the film's already frenetic pace.
### Coluche & Co.: The Heart of the Humor
While the globetrotting provides the backdrop, the film hinges on its star. Coluche's performance as Michel is pitch-perfect. He embodies the flustered "average Joe" thrust into extraordinary circumstances, his expressive face registering every nuance of panic, exasperation, and fleeting moments of accidental heroism. His chemistry with Valérie Mairesse, who gets her own share of comedic misadventures as Isabelle navigates demanding passengers and bizarre situations on her flights, is genuinely charming. Their parallel storylines, often unknowingly intersecting, form the comedic engine of the film.
And let's not forget the supporting cast, particularly the scene-stealing Marthe Villalonga as Michel's hilariously overbearing mother. Her presence adds another layer of domestic farce to the international espionage-level chaos Michel is trying to manage. The infectious, often jaunty score by the legendary Vladimir Cosma (a frequent Zidi collaborator) perfectly complements the on-screen action, underscoring both the comedic beats and the moments of (relative) peril.
### An 80s Snapshot with Lasting Laughs
Sure, watching Banzaï today, some elements feel undeniably of their time. The portrayal of foreign cultures leans heavily on broad stereotypes, typical of many comedies from the era. The pacing can feel relentless, a whirlwind of misunderstandings and near-misses that barely pauses for breath. But viewed through the lens of nostalgia, these aspects become part of its charm. It’s a snapshot of 80s comedic sensibilities, unburdened by political correctness and laser-focused on delivering laughs through elaborate set pieces and Coluche’s undeniable star power.
The film was a massive success in France upon release, cementing Coluche's status as a box office draw and becoming a staple of French television reruns for years. It captured a certain zeitgeist – the burgeoning era of mass tourism meeting classic French farce. I distinctly remember renting this one, possibly drawn in by the promise of international adventure on the cover, and being surprised by just how funny and energetic it was, even through subtitles or a slightly wonky dub on the trusty VCR.
Rating: 7.5 / 10
Why this score? Banzaï is a prime example of 80s French popular comedy firing on all cylinders. It delivers consistent laughs thanks to a brilliant central performance from Coluche, genuinely fun practical action/comedy set pieces, and Claude Zidi's assured direction. It's ambitious in scope and relentless in its comedic energy. While some cultural depictions feel dated, the core farce holds up remarkably well. It loses a couple of points for the slightly repetitive structure and those aforementioned era-specific caricatures, but the sheer fun factor and nostalgic warmth easily earn it a solid recommendation.
Final Take: For a hit of pure, unadulterated 80s comedic energy fueled by a legendary star and some enjoyably chaotic practical stunts, Banzaï is a trip worth taking. It’s the kind of frantic, globe-trotting farce that felt tailor-made for a Friday night VHS rental – pure, escapist fun that still packs a comedic punch.