GIGOT: A 1962 REVIEW

One of the great forgotten gems of the cinema was 1962's Gigot. The film starred Jackie Gleason, and it was not successful during it's theatre release. However, in recent years the film has gotten a cult following. Here is the original review by Bosley Crowther. It appeared in the NY Times on September 28, 1962...

THERE'S a vast lot of Jackie Gleason to pour out the pathos, when he does — and he does, to a point of saturation, in "Gigot" (pronounced "Gee-go"), which came to the Music Hall yesterday. Playing a huge, shabby Parisian who lives alone in a basement in Montmartre and communicates with his taunting neighbors in clumsy pantomime because he is mute, Mr. Gleason fairly opens the faucets that are connected to the mammoth reservoir of his own simple sentimentality and lets the syrup gush. Grubby, dirty and unshaven, he wallows around in this film, a well set-up prey for practical jokers, who treat him like the village idiot. His small eyes blink in solemn sadness, his pudgy hands fumble helplessly and his great, baggy frame droops resignedly when the cruel people make fun of him. His only true companion is a voracious cat that visits his hovel every morning and gets a dish of milk from him.

Then one night he finds, out in a rainstorm, a fallen woman and a soggy little girl. He takes them home to his dismal basement and generously takes care of them. Well, you can imagine what this leads to. The woman scorns and badgers him, but the little girl comes to love him, after he has won her with a lot of show-off stunts. And this leads to his wanting to keep them so intensely and desperately that he steals money to buy them fine dresses and to wine and dine them at the local bistro.

 

Is this beginning to sound a little like an old Charlie Chaplin film? If it is, we strongly imagine that's exactly what Mr. Gleason would have it do. For it is evident that his characterization of a lonely, unspeaking vagabond, who hungers for social acceptance and the warmth of somebody's love, is modeled after Chaplin, and the script that John Patrick has prepared (from a story provided by Mr. Gleason) is cut precisely to the pattern of a Chaplin film. But, unfortunately, Mr. Gleason, for all his recognized comic skill when it comes to cutting broad and grotesque capers, as he does now and then, does not have the power of expression or the subtleties of physical attitude to convey the poignant implications of such a difficult, delicate role.

His man is a ponderous, steamy figure whose maunderings are soggy and gross—and made only more so in the close-ups that Gene Kelly, who directed, has generously employed. (Remember, Chaplin was slight and graceful and always had a dauntless, dapper air.) His pantomimic exhibitions have little variety. His ways of looking pathetic are blunt and monotonous. What's more, there is too much of him. Mr. Gleason is virtually the whole show. Katherine Kath as the woman he shelters and Diane Gardner as her little girl are apt but confined in their performing. Their roles are stereotypes. (It is remarkable how much the youngster looks like Jackie Coogan in Chaplin's "The Kid.") Jacques Marin as a practical joker and Gabrielle Dorziat as the tenant of the house in which Mr. Gleason has his hovel are most expressive as real Parisians. True, there is a fast burst of morbid humor and sweet sentiment at the end, but it is awfully late in coming. A lot of moisture has by now gone down the drain...

 

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FORGOTTEN FILMS: GIGOT

People who have seen the forgotten 1962 movie GIGOT seem to either love it or hate it. I am one of the fans of the movie. I saw the movie as a teenager, and it took me a long time to find a good copy of the film. The movie has not been released on DVD - which is a crime. The movie starred the great Jackie Gleason - who was one of the truly underappreciated actors of our times.

Gleason had conceived the story himself years earlier and had long dreamed of making the film. He wanted Orson Welles as director, and Paddy Chayefsky as screenwriter. Though Welles was an old friend, the board at Fox rejected him as being an overspender. Gene Kelly was selected as a compromise. Chayefsky was not interested and John Patrick, writer of Teahouse of the August Moon was signed instead.

The film was shot on location in Paris. Most of the production crew and cast were French, some spoke no English. Gleason bore with this in two ways: Kelly spoke French, and Gleason's character had no lines, being mute.

Gleason was extremely proud of the film, which earned one Academy Award nomination for Best Adapted Score. Gleason received a story credit and a music credit. On the other hand, according to the book, The Films of Gene Kelly, by Tony Thomas, Kelly himself said that the movie "had been so drastically cut and reedited that it had little to do with my version"..

Gigot (Gleason) is a mute Frenchman living in the Montmartre district of Paris in the 1920s. He makes a hand-to-mouth living as a janitor at his landlady's apartment building. Though treated with condescension by most of his neighbors (and often the butt of practical jokes), he is much loved by the local children and by animals, whom he often feeds. He seems content with his life, though he has one strange passion: he attends every local funeral, whether or not he knew the departed, marching and crying along with the other mourners.

One rainy evening he returns home to find Collette (Katherine Kath) and her young daughter Nicole (Diane Gardner) sitting in a doorway trying to keep dry. He lets them stay at his apartment. Collette is suspicious of Gigot but young Nicole warms to him.

Gigot takes Nicole to church only to discover she is unbaptized and completely ignorant of what a church is and unaware of God. Nicole points to a crucifix and asks Gigot who that is. Gigot acts out the story of Christ beginning with Mary cradling the baby Jesus, His childhood through to the horror of the crucifixion. Nicole cries a single tear, then blows a kiss to Christ on the cross.

Gigot entertains the little girl by dancing to his old Victrola and by dressing as a waiter to feed a mouse. He is protective of Nicole, once running alongside her on a merry-go-round to make sure she doesn't fall off. It is this protectiveness that leads him to prevent Collette from soliciting a john on a park bench near the merry-go-round. Gigot is beaten by the frustrated man for his troubles.

With their ill-gotten gains, Gigot, Collette and Nicole go on a shopping spree, buying much-needed new clothes for Collette and Nicole and a meal at the local restaurant. Gigot is even persuaded to get a straw boater and a shave. But the good times are not to last -- Collette's ex-boyfriend decides he wants her back, and Collette agrees. She wants to take Nicole, but he persuades her to wait til morning. Gigot is heartbroken. The next morning, Collette finds Gigot and Nicole missing.

The baker discovers the theft, and soon Gigot is a suspect. Two bureaucrats called in by one of Gigot's neighbors have come to (apparently) have Gigot committed. But Gigot and Nicole are only at an abandoned basement, listening to the Victrola while Gigot dances -- with a little too much gusto, though, as the roof falls in. Gigot is unhurt, but Nicole is unconscious.

Frightened, he takes the girl to the church, where the parish priest calls a doctor. Thinking the Victrola may help, he goes back to retrieve it and runs straight into an angry mob. The mob chases Gigot to an old coal loader. Gigot falls into the river and does not resurface.

The locals think Gigot is dead, and organise a funeral for him. Gigot is merely hiding. He sees the funeral march and, as always, follows. When the time comes for the eulogy, he realizes it is he for whom they are holding the service. Suddenly, one of the mourners sees Gigot, and the chase starts again...