Cesar (1936)
- General info
- Available formats
- Synopsis:
The final film in Marcel Pagnol's Marseilles trilogy (following Marius and Fanny), this drama follows Cesariot (Andre Fouche), an 18-year-old who has recently been led to believe that his father, Honore (Fernand Charpin), is not really his father at all. Honore dies without telling Cesariot about his true parentage, but after the funeral, his mother Fanny (Orane Demazis) breaks the news that Cesar (Raimu), who he had always been told was his godfather, is in fact his grandfather. Cesariot asks Cesar for the truth; the old man tells him that his real dad is Marius (Pierre Fresnay), an auto mechanic, and tells him how to find the garage where Marius works. Cesariot sets out to meet Marius, but when he stops by the garage, Marius isn't in. His boss, Fernand (Doumel), decides to have some fun and tells Cesariot that Marius is a notorious outlaw; the boy buys it hook, line, and sinker and returns home heartbroken. When Marius finds out what happened, he realises that he must find the boy and see if the damage can still be repaired. While any of the three films in Pagnol's trilogy can be enjoyed separately, Cesar in particular is best appreciated when seen alongside the other two films. - Actors:
- Raimu, Pierre Fresnay, Orane Demazis, Fernand Charpin, Paul Dullac, Robert Vattier, Marcel Maupi, Édouard Delmont, Milly Mathis, Thommeray, Jean Castan, Robert Bassac, Alida Rouffe, Rellys, Charblay, Albert Spanna, Odette Roger, Doumel, André Fouché
- Directors:
- Marcel Pagnol
- Producers:
- Marcel Pagnol
- Writers:
- Marcel Pagnol
- Aka:
- César
- Genres:
- Classics, Drama
- Collections:
- A Brief History of French Poetic Realism, A Brief History of Film..., Top 10 French-Language Remakes, Top Films
- Countries:
- France
Reviews (1) of Cesar
Overheard in the Tabac - Cesar review by griggs
I probably should’ve watched the other films in the Marseille Trilogy first, but I didn’t realise César was part three until it was too late. By then it already felt like I’d wandered into a bar-tabac full of regulars swapping stories I’d missed, knocking back Pernod and chain-smoking Gauloises while I tried to keep up.
It’s mostly blokes of a certain age talking things round in circles — love, loyalty, regret — like the world’s longest heart-to-heart over cheap pastis. Pagnol’s writing has warmth, and there’s wisdom buried in all the chatter, but it moves at the pace of a sleepy afternoon.
There’s some charm here, if you tune into its rhythm, but it’s more theatre than cinema. César feels like overhearing someone else’s nostalgia — pleasant enough, just not riveting.