“POULES, MECS, AND FLICS”

By Raymond Benson

Billy Wilder’s 1963 romantic comedy, Irma la Douce, is perhaps yet another property that would go on the politically correct list of Movies That Couldn’t Be Made Today. The times were certainly different in the early 60s regarding the relationships between the sexes. This was an era when the nudge-nudge, wink-wink attitudes toward sex were assuredly male-oriented. The brilliant Wilder had always drifted toward the risqué in his pictures (The Seven Year Itch, Some Like it Hot). Irma la Douce is no exception, and some of the sequences might raise the eyebrows of the cancel culture crowd.

The entertaining Shirley MacLaine stars as the titular character (which translates to “Irma the Sweet”), a streetwalker in modern day Paris (1963, that is), who stands on Rue de Casanova along with several other poules (the French slang for these ladies of the night). The women’s mecs, or pimps, are always nearby, usually hanging out in the Café Moustache, which is run by the witty and erudite barkeep known as, naturally, Moustache (Lou Jacobi, who comes near to stealing the movie). The flics, or street cops, are in on the racket, happily accepting bribes from the mecs to keep their poules in business. Irma is the hooker with the proverbial “heart of gold” and is hugely popular, despite having a little champagne-drinking dog as a constant companion. Her mec, Hippolyte (Bruce Yarnell), is mean, controlling, and treats Irma terribly, but that is apparently what all the pimps do.

Enter beat cop Nestor Patou (Jack Lemmon), who is 2/3 honest and enthusiastic, and 1/3 very naïve. On his first day on the job, he attempts to arrest all the women, which of course gets him fired. His chief, Inspector Lefevre (Herschel Bernardi), protects the prostitution racket because, well, it’s tradition. But Nestor has met Irma in the process, and the two of them fall in love. Nestor proceeds, then, to become her mec after coming to blows with Hippolyte. Things become more complicated when Nestor has the silly idea of borrowing a large amount of money from Moustache, disguising himself as a wealthy British man, “Lord X,” and paying Irma the money simply for “conversation and companionship.” Irma then hands over the money to Nestor, which makes him look good to all the other pimps, and then Nestor repays Moustache. The scheme works… until it doesn’t.

The whole thing is farcical and hopelessly improbable, and yet Lemmon and MacLaine (and Jacobi) are so winning that one can’t help but go along for the ride. There are plenty of laughs, much bawdy humor, and tons of witty dialogue. The problem with Irma la Douce is that it is simply too long. The picture runs 2 hours and 20 minutes, and very few comedies can sustain that kind of length. A half hour could easily have been trimmed out of the movie. It’s not a fatal flaw, but one that keeps Irma from residing among the top tier of Wilder classics.

Nevertheless, MacLaine was awarded with an Oscar nomination for Best Actress for her role. She is decidedly cute, bubbly, and sassy throughout, and for most of the film she’s dressed in skimpy clothing or lingerie or not dressed at all (but there is no nudity on display). André Previn won an Oscar for his delightful musical score. The script, by Wilder and his then current collaborator, I. A. L. Diamond, is quaintly sexist and ribald, providing Lemmon with many turns of his trademark exuberance.

Interestingly, the Irma role was supposed to have been played by Marilyn Monroe, but she died before production began. What would Irma la Douce have been like with a re-teaming of Lemmon and Monroe? One can only imagine. Instead, we got the genuinely satisfactory reunion between Lemmon and MacLaine, who had made The Apartment for Wilder three years earlier.

Watch for a young James Caan in a walk-on role as an American G.I. customer of one of the poules, and yes, that’s Louis Jourdan’s voice as the narrator in the beginning sequence.

Kino Lorber’s new high definition restoration beautifully shows off Joseph LaShelle’s Oscar-nominated cinematography—the colors are rich and vivid in their widescreen glory. There are English subtitles for the hearing impaired, along with two separate audio commentaries—one by film historian Joseph McBride, author of How Did Lubitsch Do It?, and another by film historian Kat Ellinger. The theatrical trailer and other Kino Lorber release trailers and reversible sleeve artwork round out the package.

Irma la Douce is for fans of Wilder, Lemmon, and MacLaine, and for movie aficionados who can appreciate a picture within the context of when it was released. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink.

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