Homage to
Louis de Funès

«I’m despicable, and that’s what’s funny».

(Interview by Alain Rémond with Louis de Funès, Télérama, March 1978)

Louis Germain de Funès de Galarza, known simply as Louis de Funès, was one of the greatest comedians in European cinema, the undisputed champion of the French box office from the 1960s to the early 1980s, as well as one of the best-known and most beloved French actors far beyond national borders, even though some critics looked down on his admittedly popular cinema.

The son of Spanish immigrants, de Funès initially trained in theater and music: a jazz enthusiast, he worked extensively as a pianist in Parisian bars during the war years. His musical education profoundly influenced his comedic style, built on rhythm, acceleration, and continuous variation.

Before achieving success, he went through a long apprenticeship: over a hundred minor, marginal roles in post-war cinema, where his extraordinary mimicry and explosive energy were already noticeable.

He was soon noticed by Sacha Guitry, who recognised his comedic power and cast him in several of his films. Still, his first truly central role came with Ni vu, ni connu (Neither Seen nor Recognised, 1957) by Yves Robert, where he plays a cunning and mischievous poacher, creating an irresistible character full of shrewdness, sharp looks, witty remarks and an exuberant physicality, which immediately became his trademark.

The 1960s marked his ultimate breakthrough. De Funès established himself as the author of his own characters, becoming the undisputed star and symbol of French comedy, from the familiar adventures of the clumsy gendarme of Saint-Tropez to the more daring and parodic exploits of Commissaire Juve in the Fantômas trilogy; from the large-scale choral films directed by Gérard Oury (Le Corniaud, 1965, La Grande Vadrouille, 1966) to comedies built on perfect comic devices such as Le grand restaurant (The Restaurant, 1966) by Jacques Besnard and Oscar (1967) by Édouard Molinaro.

His persona soon became instantly recognisable: hot-tempered patriarchs, conceited aristocrats, greedy swindlers often invested with a bit of power that they exercise clumsily, awkward anti-heroes, petty, timid and incompetent, capable of eliciting laughter and contempt, but also sympathy and compassion. Characters who are more clumsy than mean, more inept than devilish. The comedy of these portraits is based on physicality rather than words: grimaces, snappy gaits, hands and face always in motion, bursts of anger and sudden changes of mood. The body, frequently emphasised by unlikely disguises, becomes the real driving force behind the action, complementing the witty and sharp dialogue. It is no coincidence that de Funès has often been compared to the giants of silent cinema, from Chaplin to Laurel and Hardy. His presence on the scene accelerates time, bringing it to the edge of syncopation, pulling the viewer into a continuous vertigo, often accentuated by frantic chase sequences and sudden twists.

In the 1970s, his partnership with Gérard Oury marked the artistic peak of his career. Films such as La Folie des grandeurs (Delusions of Grandeur, 1971) – in which he stars alongside Yves Montand – and Les aventures de Rabbi Jacob (The Mad Adventures of Rabbi Jacob, 1973) – among the most popular French comedies of all time – combine popular comedy with social satire, making de Funès an iconic figure. In Delusions, he is a greedy finance minister in 17th-century Spain, ruthlessly expelled from court and seeking revenge. In Rabbi Jacob, he is a wealthy Parisian industry magnate, nationalistic and racist, who unwittingly becomes involved in the kidnapping of an Arab revolutionary. His characters became even more of a warped reflection of society’s collective vices, offering a chance to laugh at power, middle-class hypocrisy, and a rigidly hierarchical society riddled with stale rituals, polished uniforms, and ceremonious pomp.

In 1975, after suffering a heart attack, de Funès was forced to abandon his theatre commitments and put his film career on hold. No insurer wanted to take the risk of hiring him on a film set, until Claude Zidi, the director of L’aile ou la cuisse (The Wing or the Thigh?, 1976), managed to secure insurance for two weeks of filming. It was de Funès’ last major success, a hilarious comedy about French gastronomic culture, consumerism, modernity, the industrial society and the power of the media.

Critical recognition came with time. François Truffaut was among the first to recognise De Funés’ genuine and compelling comedic talent, rooted in his gestures, rhythm, and physical energy. After dominating the box office for two decades, official recognition finally arrived in 1980: Jerry Lewis personally presented him with the César Award for Lifetime Achievement, confirming the universal value of an actor who turned comedy into a universal art form.