Best French Films Ever.

Top rated French Movies: popular, classic, famous "must watch" Cinema Fançais — great pictures old and new 21-30.

The highest grossing comedy of all time in France.

.A medieval nobleman Comte Godefroy de Montmirail (Jean Reno) and his squire Jacquart (Christian Clavier) take a magic potion and are sent into the distant future - all the way from 1123 France to late twentieth century France.

The Count and his squire have to accomodate themselves to their new world, and this provides the material for much standard time-travel humour. They spend the rest of the film dealing with novelties such as motor cars and bathrooms, and arranging to get home again to their own time.

This is above all old-fashioned slapstick humor.

The only notable acting comes from Valerie Lemercier. Back in the 12th century, she's a noblewoman betrothed to Godefroy. In the twentieth she's the wife of a dentist. If you get fed up with the slapstick, just watch her expert timing.

The film was remade in the US as Just Visiting. As always, a very poor imitation of the original even though it .retained its two principal French actors, Jean Reno and Christian Clavier. Slapstick with all the subtlety removed.

Sandrine Dumez, caught up in a traffic jam in Paris notices a travel poster of Vercours (in the Rhone Alps) on the bus in front of her. This triggers a dream of a new rural life. Sandrine has had enough of city traffic jams and smog. She yearns to live a rural idyl in the French Alps.

Turned 30, she plans to become a farmer. She decides to abandon her city job in IT (she teaches people how to use the internet) along with her relationship with her boyfriend, and fulfil her dream. To the consternation of her mother, she goes to Agricultural school.

Sandrine is a gifted student, one of the best in her school. Soon she is ready to invest 450,000 Francs in a remote rural goat farm in the Vercours, found by her agricultural instructor. Sandrine is played beautifully by Mathilde Seigner, the sister of French star Emmanuelle Seigner.

The farm is a remote dairy farm, being sold by Adrien Rochas (Michel Serrault), an irascible, gruff, reclusive old widower. Unfortunately there is a catch. Adrien will continue to live in a cottage near the farmhouse for 18 months, until he can move into the new flat being prepared by his son in Grenoble.

Adrien looks forward to watching the new owner fail miserably. But Sandrine uses her internet expertise to transform the place into a tourist attraction. Sandrine quickly turns the failing farm into a profitable one, using a Web site to lure tourists to her gîte the "Balcony in the Sky". She also economises in imaginative ways, for example inviting schoolchildren to work as free labour to harvest strawberries.

Sandrine does well, modernizing outdated machinery and selling her goat cheese on the Internet. Her first spring and summer are a success, but Adrien questions whether she will be able to continue over the harsh winter. Two strong wills face up to each other as the attentions of Sandrine's exboyfriend from Paris (Frédéric Pierrot) bubble away in the background.

They both know that Adrien could help, but she is too proud to ask. And he is too proud to offer. By the winter Adrien is more interested in helping Sandriner than he could ever admit, even to himself. Moulded in the long tradition of French peasant farmers, he uses underhanded means to encourage her into asking for assistance.

In time, They develop a grudging respect and affection for each other, and when Adrien learns of Sandrine's plan to take a vacation in Paris during the worst of the winter, he rails at her "You don't deserve my farm''

Gradually we learn why Adrien is so bitter. Michel Serrault is one of the finest actors in the world. You can hardly believe that this man is the same actor who played The Great ZaZa in La Cage aux Folles. He seems to be a genuine, bitter, cantankerous old farmer who has spent a lifetime of hard work on his isolated dairy farm. The character is perfectly realised and deeply moving. Sandrine learns about the farm's history, the losses he has borne, and the lonely silence of life alone in a harsh environment. Adrien has worn his emotional armour for so long that he no longer knows how to take it off and Sandrine remains wary of him.

Now the plot is not really the main thing here - in a sense I just gave the plot away. The attraction is in the subtlety of the characterisation and the beauty of the story telling. On top of a simple tale of an unlikely friendship, there are numerous secondary themes. The French attachment to its rural past, the changing nature of rural life, the new role of the European Community in agriculture. Life is hard on remote farms, and scenes of animal slaughter are reminders to city audiences of where their neatly packaged superr-hygenic meat really comes from (if they are exceptionally lucky). There are also generational differences. Adrien makes no bones about saying that Sandrine "will never make it without a man.''

The relationship between the two principals is complex. Adrien resents having to leave his home. He is horrified at the thought of being displaced by someone else, and not just another farmer but someone from the city, an inexperienced young city girl. She is aware of what she has given up in Paris, and also what she has gained. Sitting on her horse she gazes at a hang glider gracefully circling the Alps. (There are breathtaking Arial shots of the Vercours). She also knows what a difficult task she has taken on. Early on she asks Adrien if he will help with the farm work, but at that stage he would rather watch her fail.

This two hander is fleshed out by strong support in the shape of Adrien's neighbour and contemporary, Jean (Jean-Paul Roussillon) Adrien's only friend. He recently sold his own farm whch permits him him to spend his time driving around in his new Volvo with his dog Pharaoh. There are also Sandrine's lover and colleague from Paris Gérard (Frédéric Pierrot); and Sandrine's mother played by Françoise Bette.

The scenery is magnificent, the characters powerful. Like the best storytellers, Carion drip feeds information about his characters, building them into real people. You could call it an elemental story in all senses.

The film is usually called in English The Girl from Paris. In French it is Une hirondelle a fait le printemps - roughly "One Swallow Made The Summer". Why is was thought necessary to replace a a good title by a bad one is one of the many mysteries typical of the film industry in the English speaking world though outside the US & the UK it is sometimes titled by a literal translation "One Swallow Brought Spring" - which completely loses the parallel English idiom.

The film is the feature debut of Christian Carion, whose 1993 documentary for the French Ministry of Agriculture presumably inspired this story..

Blue is the first part of Kieslowski's trilogy very loosely based on France's national motto: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.

This is the story of Julie (Juliette Binoche) who loses her husband, an acclaimed composer and her young daughter in a car accident.

The film's theme of liberty is reflected in Julie's attempt to start a new life free of personal commitments and belongings, and even free of grief and love. She plans to commit a sort of spiritual suicide by withdrawing from the world and living alone and anonymously in Paris.

Despite her plans, characters from her former life, who need her and care about her, intrude with their own needs.

She cannot escape one particular artifact from her husband's life - his unfinished composition called Song for the Unification of Europe. She disposes of his notes for the piece, just as she tries to dispose of all her memories. But the composition continues to insinuate itself into her life.

Eventually she confronts the music as well as her own devastated psyche, and is drawn back to the land of the living.

Valentine is a young model living in Geneva. Because of a dog she ran over, she meets a retired judge who spies his neighbours' phone calls, not for money but to feed his cynicism. The film is the story of relationships between some human beings, Valentine and the judge, but also other people who may not be aware of the relationship they have with Valentine or/and the old judge. Redemption, forgiveness and compassion...

Another wonderfully bizarre atmospheric offering from Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro.

Before grubbing out an existence in the mosquito-infested swamps of the Dombes, Le Marquis Grégoire Ponceludon de Malavoy (Charles Berling) was raised in the palace of Versailles.

Tired of seeing his people dying of malaria he ambitiously plans to drain the marshes. His only problem is that he lacks the funds. The king can perform miracles the peasants believe, but Grégoire's scientific mind is more sceptical. To him, any man can perform wonders, but in this age of reason who is he to dash their hopes? Armed with his blueprints and some dubious claims to nobility he heads straight for the unwelcoming treasury, fails to secure a loan and gets robbed.

Then serendipitously, or perhaps ill-fated, Grégoire is rescued by a bumbling good samaritan - Le Marquis de Bellegarde. After a prompt misdiagnosis, this charming and aging doctor nearly bleeds him dry and during this process, becomes a valuable friend.

Taken directly from a script penned by Remi Waterhouse and never claiming to be a historical drama, Ridicule is a far more ambitious project. From the outset, the film struts onto the screen like a vicious peacock, dazzling me with its brilliance and shocking audacity. As the cruelly nicknamed Marquis de Clatterbang pays his last disrespects to an aged man, I was pricked by a conscience that questioned me as to why an elder revered for his intelligence should be treated so harshly in his dying moments. As the story unfolded, this time with a new victim, the riddle of this clever tale was slowly revealed.

There are heroes of sorts in this carnival of harlequins. Le Marquis de Bellegarde (Jean Rochefort), like an over-aged schoolboy, delights in his joke book. I sensed that he truly understands the wickedness of the court and yet it quietly amuses him until his family are sucked in. His daughter, Mathilde, naïve and intelligent, might just squander her virginity in order to secure her studies as she desperately explores a weed-strangled lake in her leaky diving suit. The arrogant Abbé de Vilecourt (Bernard Giraudeau) greases his way into Marie Antoinette's favour like a well-oiled eel as he teases his rivals with nasty pranks. Meanwhile, his ruthlessly acquisitive lover - the recently widowed Comtesse de Blayac (Fanny Ardent) grooms his talent as she uses the slippery priest to keep her affections warm. But amongst them walks Grégoire, a genius with a spontaneous wit that can only be undermined by three things: his provincial vulgarity, his Voltaire-like compassion, or a well-timed frottage beneath a tablecloth. Will he be able to resist the madame's advances?

And it is his wit on which the people of the Dombes depend because in the court of Louis XVI the tongue is swifter than a sword. The king likes a joke and only a bon-môt earns a good word, the passport to the royal table. The aristocrats rely on their wits to win their battles and swoop like harriers upon weaker prey. With the treasury nearly bankrupt only the most malicious will secure the slim pickings. So, in this world of vicious repartee, a killing-joke takes on a sinister meaning as Grégoire discovers when a disgraced courtier takes his own life. And there are many faux-pas to ensnare a dullard - the demarcation between brilliance and crudeness is razor-thin: playing on words is permissible whereas punning is forbidden; one never laughs at one's own jokes; but above all, timing has to be perfect. So, armed with their rapier-tongues the duellers strike their wicked jibes, eager for their strokes to draw favour. But some of them are cheating, and not only on their lovers.

Ridicule's script is like a guillotine, a sophisticated device with a well-honed edge and the actors are like its oil enabling the lines to be effortlessly delivered with slick precision, time and time again. However, it always serves its greater purpose, like the music in Amadeus it is a servant to the plot and never usurps it. The lighting effects also add to the drama. As if stepping from Flemish paintings dark interiors are illuminated by shafts of piercing gold contrasting by the naked footprints of Mme de Blayac's powdered floor. Whilst in-doors may seem claustrophobic, the verdant expanse of the palatial gardens gives room for the characters to breathe. In their flamboyant garb they strut like tight-lipped peacocks eager to crow yet fearful of being heard. It is truly a beautiful film. Inspired by Joshua Reynolds, the imaginative costumes designed by Christian Gasc paint the characters with a series of delicate glazes: scene by scene Mme de Blayac slowly transforms from a black widow into a scarlet woman until even her dark lace lightens up; Vilecourt forever clad in well-fitting priestly garb, is adorned with superfluous pom-poms - an overt emblem of his unnecessary vanity; and, Bellegarde, in his washed-out mauve, looks like an older, more weathered version of Grégoire. But of particular note is the fancy-dress ball with its outrageous wigs fashioned from Brillo pads and leather-beaked masks. It's as if grotesque turkeys have roosted menacingly on the dancers' heads, eager to peck out the eyes of a passing enemy. Gasc deservedly scooped one of the four Césars won by this film.

Ridicule is a like compendium of games in that each time I watch it I find new things to entertain me. Whilst anyone with a penchant for 18th century France will have to forgive the artistic license (feel free to moan about the out-of-date fireplaces), they will enjoy it again and again because the filmmakers didn't want this incredible drama getting bogged down with trivial matters. It is witty, mature, beautiful, and cleverly constructed; a work of true sophistication, yet it retains a tension that the cruel jokes are getting out of hand. Suddenly, the Revolution seems like an act of kindness, sparing the aristocrats of the anguish of fading notoriety. Perhaps losing face can be worse than losing one's head.

Unfortunately for such a good film as this, the DVD is depressinglylight on extra features with only a documentary about the making of the film (also subtitled). It pays particular homage to the wardrobe designer and composer as well as interviews with cast and directors. Whilst informative, it's standard fare.