Alright fellow tapeheads, settle back into that comfy armchair, maybe grab a lukewarm soda that’s been sitting out too long. Remember wandering the aisles of the local video rental palace, scanning rows upon rows of lurid covers? Sometimes, nestled between the muscle-bound action heroes and screaming horror vixens, you’d find something... different. A foreign film maybe, with a slightly unassuming title. That’s how many of us likely stumbled upon My New Partner (1984), a French gem whose bland English title hid a movie overflowing with charm, wit, and a surprisingly affectionate look at bending the rules.
Don't let that generic VHS box fool you. Back in France, this film stormed the box office under its original, much more fitting title: Les Ripoux. That translates roughly to "The Corrupt Cops" or, more colloquially, "The Rotten Cops." Now that gives you a better flavour of what director Claude Zidi (who also gave us broader comedies like L'aile ou la cuisse) was cooking up. This wasn't your typical explosive Hollywood affair; it was something slyer, funnier, and quintessentially Parisian.
Meet the Masters of the Minor Scam
The setup is classic buddy-cop material, but with a Gallic twist. We have René Boirond, played by the legendary Philippe Noiret in a performance that snagged him a well-deserved César Award (the French Oscar). René is a veteran beat cop in Paris, nearing retirement, who has turned petty corruption into an art form. He knows everyone, takes a little something from everyone – a free meal here, some ignored parking tickets there – navigating the vibrant, grubby streets of the Barbès district like a king in his own slightly tarnished kingdom. He’s not malicious, just… comfortable. His world is shaken up when he's assigned a new partner: François Lesbuche, a young, idealistic, by-the-book rookie portrayed brilliantly by Thierry Lhermitte (a familiar face from French comedy troupe Le Splendid and later films like Le Dîner de Cons).
The heart and soul of My New Partner is the evolving relationship between these two. Noiret is simply magnificent as René – world-weary, avuncular, cynical yet somehow deeply likable. He embodies that seen-it-all Parisian attitude perfectly. Lhermitte is his ideal foil, initially appalled by René’s methods but slowly, hilariously, getting drawn into his web of easy living and ethically dubious shortcuts. Their chemistry crackles, shifting from antagonism to grudging respect, and finally to genuine, if unconventional, friendship. It’s a masterclass in character-driven comedy.
Parisian Grit and Gallic Charm
Forget squealing tires and massive explosions every five minutes. The "action" here is more grounded, woven into the fabric of everyday Parisian life. There are foot chases through bustling marketplaces, tense little confrontations in smoky bars, and the constant, intricate dance of René's small-time hustles. Claude Zidi films it all with an authentic eye, capturing the specific energy of neighbourhoods like Barbès – a far cry from the picture-postcard Paris usually seen in films. You can almost smell the Gauloises smoke and the roasting chestnuts. This location shooting wasn't just for show; it gives the film a tangible sense of place that feels incredibly real, even watching it now on a screen far sharper than my old CRT ever was.
One of the film's most fascinating aspects, especially looking back from today, is its surprisingly light touch regarding police corruption. This isn't a searing indictment; it's almost a comedy of manners about surviving the system. René’s scams are portrayed less as crimes and more as a way of life, a lubricant that keeps the gears of his little world turning smoothly. It’s a perspective that clearly resonated in France, where Les Ripoux wasn't just a hit, it was a phenomenon, winning Best Film and Best Director Césars alongside Noiret's Best Actor award. It tapped into a certain understanding, perhaps even a sneaking affection, for bending the rules to get by. It’s hard to imagine a mainstream American film tackling the subject with such humorous nonchalance back then.
Beyond the Badges
While Noiret and Lhermitte dominate, the supporting cast adds colour, including the nightclub owner and singer Régine as Simone, one of René’s key informants and maybe something more. The score by Francis Lai (famous for Love Story) adds a perfectly judged layer of melancholic charm, underscoring both the humour and the underlying weariness of René’s world. The film’s success inevitably led to sequels – Ripoux contre ripoux (1990) and the much later Ripoux 3 (2003) – attempting to recapture the magic, though as is often the case, the original remains the undisputed champion.
Watching My New Partner today is like discovering a favourite old sweater – comfortable, familiar, and still surprisingly stylish. The pacing is more relaxed than modern audiences might be used to, favouring character and dialogue over relentless plotting, but the wit is sharp, and the performances are timeless. It’s a reminder that buddy comedies don’t need massive budgets or earth-shattering stakes to work; sometimes, all you need is two perfectly cast actors, a smart script, and a city full of charmingly crooked characters.
***
VHS Heaven Rating: 9/10
Justification: This rating reflects the film's superb comedic timing, outstanding lead performances (especially Noiret's award-winning turn), sharp writing, authentic Parisian atmosphere, and its status as a beloved French classic. It perfectly balances humour and heart, offering a unique and enduring take on the buddy-cop genre. The slightly dated feel only adds to its charm.
Final Word: Forget the explosions; this 80s classic proves the most entertaining fireworks often come from sheer Gallic wit and a partnership built on perfectly executed petty crime. A delightful detour down the less-travelled aisles of the video store.