The Great Typewriter Affair-With The Film Populaire In
Mind -A Review
DVD Review
By Sam Lowell
Populaire, starring Deborah Francois, Romain Duris, 2012
Who knew that back in the 1950s, back in the time of my
coming of age, that using a typewriter fast, very fast was a blood sport. You
just never know. By the way for those who have forgotten, or were too young to
know, a typewriter was a machine with a keyboard just like today’s computers except
you had to put paper on a roller and move a carriage to go from line to line
rather than the ENTER button. You had to make your own erasures if you made a
misspelling or something rather than the DELETE button with today’s word
processors. How primitive. If you don’t believe me though look the term up on
Wikipedia, okay. In any case the film under review, a French film with
subtitles, Populaire has its plot revolve around the typewriter, or rather who
was the faster typist in the West. That designation being left to be fought
over by the female part of the human species since in those days the only ones
who typed, mainly, were women called secretaries and now called things like
administrative assistants and the like. If you don’t believe me on that look
that up on Wikipedia while you are looking up typewriter.
Who am I kidding. That typewriter business is just a foil,
window dressing for the real deal. As I will flush out below this film is a
romance, maybe even a romantic comedy in spots and the typewriter is just the excuse
to yet again produce a boy meets girl film of the old 1950s school. That old
school being heavy on sexual allure, sexual attraction, and sexual promise but
rather light on the act itself unlike today when sexual attraction almost
immediately leads to the silky sheets.
Here’s how this one played out in France in 1959 the great
boy meets girl industry that drives the cinematic enterprise. Rose, a small
sort of nondescript young woman had been fascinated by the typewriter since her
childhood and when she came of age she applied to Louis’ insurance office to be
a secretary (I assume you looked that up, right). The problem was that she was
a terrible secretary and as far as her typing abilities went she was strictly
“hunt and peck” like a lot of us. But fast. Louis seeing a potential champion
fast draw typist begins to coach her to type correctly and use her fast hands
to win typing competitions. That is where the blood sport comes in since these
competitions actually had aficionados who cheered their favorites on. They were
even betting on the thing, although I don’t know if they had point spreads and
such. Louis insisted that there be a
strict separation between student and coach (even though she wound up living
chastely in his house, a big 1950s film convention the chaste part anyway).
But enough of that. These two have it bad for each other and
if we could fast forward to 2016 they would already have been in the downy
billows and done with it. But Louis has trouble committing, a not unknown
quality among males of the human species, and as Rose keeps winning
championships from the local level up to the national championship in Paris
that sexual tension increases. Along the way, by the way, Rose turns from that
non-descript small town girl to well “hot,” a not unfamiliar cinematic trope
(why don’t guys get that same ugly ducking to prince transformation, its’
unfair, totally unfair). They finally “do it” (on camera unlike in the 1950s)
but once Rose wins the national championship Louis doesn’t want to hold her
back (that same commitment problem really). When Rose, after being feted in
Paris as the champ, goes to New York to take on the vicious Yankees (not the
baseball team that is a different blood sport but the reigning world champ) for
the title of world’s fastest typist Louis finally has an epiphany and flies to
New York to cheer her on and take what she had to give. See I told you boy
meets girl, classic stuff except at the end I still wondered about who the heck
would go to the mat to watch a typing contest. I’ll look that up and let you
know. See this one.
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