
Director: Bertrand Blier
Screenplay: Bertrand Blier
Starring: A galaxy of stars
Country: France
Running Time: 104 minutes
Year: 2000
BBFC Certificate: 12
Having previously written about Indicator’s reissues of films by Nadine Trintignant, we now come to those directed by Bertrand Blier; I told you that we’d get to him eventually. Blier’s reputation as a black-hearted provocateur has long overshadowed the actual merits of his long and very distinguished cinematic output. Despite beginning his career as far back as the 1950s, Blier’s work lies firmly outside of the New Wave’s radicalism, instead pursuing his own very idiosyncratic brand of iconoclastic film-making that still has the power to shock and offend to this day. Perhaps that’s why we’ve not yet had a deluxe reissue of Les Valseuses in the UK?

Indicator have so far reissued two of Blier’s films: Buffet Froid and Merci La Vie. This pair are rightly celebrated films that deserve to be more widely seen; Les Acteurs is the third and most outwardly puzzling selection. What becomes clear about the choice of this late Blier film is that it is unlike anything else that this mordant man had made up until that point. For Les Acteurs, Blier wrote a script, assembled twenty of the greatest actors in French cinema, and with their absolute complicity, had them royally send themselves up in riot of politically incorrect scenes and sketches. Men who have spent their entire lives onscreen playing heroic leading roles now bicker and play tricks on each-other, tell irreverent jokes and engage in slapstick violence. The film works best if you view it as a series of sketches held together by a rotating core of actors who seem to spin the film out of thin air. However, that was not the case. The script was finely tuned by Blier, and rehearsed with the actors down to the last syllable and punctuation point.

However tightly constructed the script, Les Acteurs still feels like a confection, albeit one tasting of fibre glass rather than cotton candy. And for me at least, there is enormous fun to be had watching the sonorous actor Jean-Pierre Marielle repeatedly fail with a request for a pot of hot water, or Pierre Arditi and Jean-Claude Brialy’s running gag about being a gay couple. The funniest and strongest scenes involve Marielle, André Dussollier and Jacques Villeret playing off of each other with real aplomb. However, some scenes now come across very badly, such as Sami Frey’s theft of a wheelchair and mockery of a disabled person (who is also not played by a genuinely disabled actor), and the many instances of homophobic and misogynistic dialogue. It is sad to say that much of the film’s humour involves punching down, rather than up.

Fortunately, the film seems to sense that these scenes might linger in the memory, and Blier delightfully undercuts them with some outstanding contributions from some of the finest female actors of the time. Josianne Balasko has an absolute ball as ‘Andre Dussollier II’, wringing every last laugh out of her deadpan expression, Patachou revels in her cameo as blind woman harassed by Claude Rich, and in a marvellous moment, the great Maria Schneider appears in a wonderful scene amidst this stellar company. Les Acteurs really delivers when the truly big guns make their presences felt. Alain Delon delivers a wonderfully mournful soliloquy, Gerard Depardieu endures a motorcycle accident, and Jean-Paul Belmondo has a great time laughing himself to death. The most affecting scene for me was the almost throwaway tribute to the late, great Patrick Dewaere, who made his name starring in early Blier classics (now we really do need a deluxe reissue of Préparez vos mouchoirs). And I haven’t even mentioned the droll contributions made by my favourite actor Michel Piccoli yet.
If you take it for what it is, Les Acteurs is an arch and uproarious meta-cinema experience, with certain glaringly obvious caveats. I certainly got the most out of it, but would recommend it only with the greatest of caution.

INDICATOR LIMITED EDITION BLU-RAY SPECIAL FEATURES
4K restoration
Original 5.1 surround sound and stereo audio tracks
Bertrand Blier As Seen by His Actors: archive documentary about the filming of Les Acteurs
Qui sont les acteurs? (2026): a video essay guide by Jonathan Bygraves to many French actors providing cameo appearances, often as themselves, in Les Acteurs
Original theatrical trailer
Image gallery: promotional and publicity materials
New and improved English translation subtitles
Limited edition exclusive booklet with a new essay by Sue Harris, excerpts from archival interviews with director Bertrand Blier, an overview of contemporary critical responses, and film credits
UK premiere on Blu-ray
Limited edition of 4,000 copies for the UK and US
Benoit Lemoine’s documentary about the production of Les Acteurs is a terrific archive piece, showing just how much everyone enjoyed working on the film and the convivial if heightened atmosphere that Blier created for the cast and crew. Josianne Balasko concedes that the film will be ‘juvenile’, and you see just how much attention to detail went into each and every interaction. Blier’s professorial air and sarcastic way with words make for fascinating viewing.
Jonathan Bygraves’ video essay might just the most indispensable special feature included on any home cinema release this year. I was naturally familiar with many of the stars in Les Acteurs, but this essay demonstrated just how many I didn’t know, placing names alongside faces that have graced so many of the classics we know and love, from Becker to Bunuel, from Godard to Truffaut and far beyond.
The booklet accompanying this limited edition blu ray release is full to the brim with information. Cleverly titled From Buffet (Froid) to Banquet, Sue Harris’ essay details the ways in which Les Acteurs is an unabashed love letter to the leading film icons of his generation, which was already on the verge of dying out. This adds another poignant layer to the film, given that so many of these great names are sadly no longer with us. Acting, Actors and Les Acteurs gathers various interview quotes from Blier, Dussolier and others, which all provide a rich insight into this remarkable filmic concoction. There is also space to quote from the quizzical and contemptuous reviews of the film upon its release.
There is a blithe teaser trailer for the film, which appealingly reveals very little, and photo and publicity galleries are also included amongst the extras.



