OSS 117: Lost in Rio

All this is mighty silly, but there's something to be said for watching a French movie that, for a change, isn't about l'amour, existential angst, or madness.

The tenor, tone and immaculately lampooned art direction often make up for shtick that gradually grows thin in the belly-laugh department.

It's generally friendly and enjoyable, but it sags a bit.

Strutting around like a rooster in a thin-lapeled suit, 117 isn't much different from other comic Bond figures, but the movies find a fresh and exceedingly rich vein of comedy in his airy sexism, racism, and colonialism.

The story is lame and the action is flaccid, but as Hubert would be the first to tell you, the French have a word for those who can't take a joke: c'est la vie.