Okay, fellow tapeheads, let's rewind to a time when finding a truly hilarious foreign comedy gem felt like striking gold down at the local video store. Forget the algorithms pushing the same five things at you – remember digging through those slightly worn clamshell cases, maybe guided only by a weird cover or a name you vaguely recognized? That's often how many of us stumbled upon Francis Veber's brilliant 1981 French comedy, La Chèvre, better known to many of us VHS hunters as The Goat. And what a find it was.
The premise alone is pure comedic genius, the kind of high-concept hook that feels both absurdly specific and universally funny. Wealthy businessman Bens hires a detective, the perpetually stoic and tough Campana (Gérard Depardieu, radiating pure, world-weary competence), to find his missing daughter, Marie. The twist? Marie is notoriously, almost supernaturally, accident-prone. After countless failed searches, a company psychologist suggests a truly bizarre plan: find someone equally unlucky, send them on the same path, and maybe, just maybe, whatever happened to Marie will happen to him too. Enter François Perrin (Pierre Richard), a walking catastrophe magnet.
A Match Made in Misfortune
What unfolds is pure comedic alchemy. The pairing of Depardieu and Richard is simply legendary, kicking off a trilogy of films under Veber's masterful direction (followed by Les Compères and Les Fugitifs, both also fantastic rentals). Depardieu, even early in his international stardom, nails the role of the hardened professional increasingly bewildered and exasperated by the cosmic bad luck swirling around his companion. He’s the immovable object constantly being sideswiped by the unstoppable force of sheer misfortune that is Perrin.
And Pierre Richard... well, he is Perrin. His performance is a masterclass in physical comedy. It's not just pratfalls (though there are plenty, and brilliantly executed – Richard famously performed many of his own stunts, adding a layer of tangible, wince-inducing reality); it's the constant air of bewildered innocence, the man genuinely baffled by the chaos he effortlessly generates. Remember how convincing those stumbles and crashes looked back then, without digital trickery smoothing everything out? There's a raw, almost painful authenticity to his clumsiness that CGI just can't replicate. He bumps into doors, walks into glass, gets stung by bees, triggers calamities – all with a sublime unawareness that makes Campana's slow burn absolutely priceless.
Veber's Clockwork Chaos
The genius of Francis Veber (Le Dîner de Cons / The Dinner Game) lies in his airtight script construction. The Goat isn't just a series of random gags; it's a meticulously plotted farce where each disaster logically (in its own absurd way) leads to the next clue or the next complication. Veber reportedly spent ages refining the screenplay, ensuring the escalating bad luck felt earned within the film's bizarre logic. It’s like watching a Rube Goldberg machine of misfortune, perfectly timed and expertly sprung.
Filming primarily on location in Mexico adds a vibrant, sun-drenched backdrop that contrasts beautifully with the escalating mayhem. You can almost feel the heat haze shimmering off the screen, adding another layer to Campana's discomfort. The supporting cast, including the reliable Pedro Armendáriz Jr. as a local police captain caught in the crossfire, adds texture and further opportunities for comic friction. It wasn't a cheap film for its time, and its massive success in France (pulling in over 7 million admissions!) proved Veber's comedic instincts were spot on, paving the way for its international cult status and, yes, even a less-than-stellar American remake (Pure Luck with Martin Short and Danny Glover – let's maybe just stick to the original).
Why It Still Clicks Eject
Watching The Goat today takes me right back to those late-night VHS sessions, maybe with slightly fuzzy tracking lines adding to the charm. The pacing is brisk, the jokes land (mostly physical, transcending language barriers), and the central relationship between the stoic detective and the human calamity is genuinely endearing beneath the slapstick. It’s a reminder of how effective simple, brilliantly executed concepts can be when anchored by perfect casting and sharp writing.
Does it feel a bit 80s? Sure, in the way all films from the era do. But the core comedy, relying on character, situation, and expertly timed physical gags, feels timeless. It avoids mean-spiritedness; Perrin’s bad luck is cosmic, not mocked, and Campana’s frustration evolves into a strange sort of protective fondness. It's just plain funny, crafted with a care and precision that’s often missing in modern comedies relying on improv or gross-out humor.
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VHS Heaven Rating: 8.5/10
Justification: The Goat earns this high score for its killer high-concept premise, the iconic comedic pairing of Depardieu and Richard at their peak, Veber's masterful script construction, and its genuinely hilarious and timeless physical comedy. It's a near-perfect execution of classic French farce. Minor deductions perhaps for slight datedness in peripheral elements, but the core comedic engine remains incredibly powerful.
Final Rewind: A masterclass in buddy comedy and expertly crafted farce, The Goat is the kind of film that proves you don't need digital wizardry for comedic gold – just two perfectly mismatched stars, a genius script, and a whole lot of hilariously bad luck. Still plays brilliantly, even without the tracking lines.