Jean Renoir's The Rules Of the Game is one of film's most overrated 'classics.'
As I wrote:
'It is the admirers of the film’s claimed greatness who believe it so for the wrong reasons, whereas the film, unadorned and dehagiographized, is merely a good little screwball comedy of manners. In style and tone it has much in common with Ingmar Bergman’s later Smiles Of A Summer Night, save that there is a bit more substance in Renoir’s film, if less style and internal narrative and character coherence. I.e.- it is absurd that, after dodging Schumacher’s bullets, Marceau and he would buddy up to plot the murder of Octave and Christine- whom they believe is Lisette. First, why would Schumacher not want to strangle Marceu for his dalliances with Lisette and costing him his job? And secondly, why would the carefree Marceau want to kill Lisette? Schumacher’s rage is plausible, but Marceau’s? These are the sorts of flaws that Robert Altman’s later Gosford Park did not make.'
In short, the film has many flaws, but that does not mean it's not an enjoyable romp- but in a Top Ten list?
Pshaw.
