The subject: Sergio Garcés (Diego Peretti), an aging porno actor is trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to find a place, however humble, in mainstream cinema. He shares initials with Serge Gainsbourg and counts among his accomplishments Spanish versions of Gainsbourg songs. His friends call him Francés, Frenchman. He has problems managing his anger; he had brushes with the law, has been sentenced to community service and is one short step away from doing time. A subject that has obvious possibilities in the hands of a competent scriptwriter.
Peretti is a capable and experienced actor with a flair for comedy which bodes well for the subject. Unfortunately, expectations are frustrated. The first part of the movie is devoid of wit (except perhaps for the first scene) and Peretti is wasted. So is Julianne Nicholson, saddled with a thankless role; her presence in Buenos Aires is never explained and she seems to be around just to lust for Sergio. But the worst is yet to come; midway through, the movie jumps awkwardly into the crime genre and all credibility is thrown overboard.
The final insult: Gainsbourg's songs are sappy enough, but their River Plate versions are much worse. The movie fails at all levels.
Peretti is a capable and experienced actor with a flair for comedy which bodes well for the subject. Unfortunately, expectations are frustrated. The first part of the movie is devoid of wit (except perhaps for the first scene) and Peretti is wasted. So is Julianne Nicholson, saddled with a thankless role; her presence in Buenos Aires is never explained and she seems to be around just to lust for Sergio. But the worst is yet to come; midway through, the movie jumps awkwardly into the crime genre and all credibility is thrown overboard.
The final insult: Gainsbourg's songs are sappy enough, but their River Plate versions are much worse. The movie fails at all levels.