Bancs publics

Bancs publics, aka (Versailles rive droite), has the English title of Park Benches. Moliere it isn't, or even La cage aux folles, but it is a star-studded confection of French forth from Bruno Podalydes. He appears in it, as do dozens of French actors in cameos.

The movie's first interior set shows three office secretaries and two of their male bosses deciding to investigate a banner that has appeared below a facing window. In black and white, it states Homme Seul (Man Alone). How long could the comic mystery of that simple sitcom-like premise be sustained? How many small jokes and cameo parts could it spark? 20-20, remarkably.

Some of the office workers take their lunch break in the small garden below, where the park benches of the title are filled with other oddball French provincial characters of all ages. This is Altman or Curtis territory, where the cameras scamper around the park, eaves-dropping on its conversations and mini-dramas. Many feel fresh, some are surreal, and the whole comic exercise is a joy to watch and hear, a cavalcade of funny surprises.

The third, more farcical and least successful, segment takes us into the adjacent hardware staff, over-staffed and fussily micro-managed, where additional French talents (including Deneuve) appear to create mechanical disasters and comic woes. Finally, the action shifts back to the office and its Gervais-style retirement party for a secretary. When the light goes on and then off again in the lonely man's flat, the tale is over.

As usual with his movies, Podalydes worked with his brother, Denis, on this film. It's a sequel of sorts to their 45-minute 1992 comedy, Versailles rive-gauche. That will be worth finding, as will other award-winning joint efforts (including Only God sees me, 1998; Liberte-Oleron, 2001; Le parfum de la dame en noir, 2005; Montmartre segment of Paris, je t'aime, 2006).