In 2014, What have we done to God? made an uproar. In question: a humor and a rancid idea of France, however positively sanctioned by a historic public success with 12 million entries. Encouraged, the continuation What else have we done to God? went one step further and blew his fly off and let an awful, dirty, nasty belly drip. After the great pseudo-subversive disgust on Blacks, Arabs, Jews, Chinese, LGBTQ, migrants, CGT, it’s the turn of What have we all done to God? to secrete his bilious hatred. Problem: there are not many targets left, and after having vomited so much, there remains only bile to expel.
Chantal Lauby and Christian Clavier, closer to God
Because hatred is always very present, and the film attacks without detour from the first minute, with a “invasion” of Chinon, the very French village of Christian Clavier in which the patriarch suffers from having to meet one of his dreaded sons-in-law – because “strangers“, it should be remembered – at the corner of every street. But this time, the engine of this once humming hatred seems very wise, and for good reason: now that everyone has been deported to the death camp of the French laughter, there is no one left to asphyxiate – or almost.
Out of fuel and clogged, having reached the end of its list of victims, the old exhaust pipe will painfully tear off a few last black gaviots to spit on these madmen of great replacement wokes capable of justifying a black Jesus as well as a Beethoven, those painful moralizing vegans who destroy the atmosphere, an Indian child because why not, and… that’s about all.
For the rest, Philippe de Chauveron remains connected to the same sewage system of the galéjade from home: the Chinese all look alike, the Jews and the Arabs fight each other for their territory and the Blacks are scary, but even the film no longer believes in it and does not even bother to formulate its contempt in intelligible terms.
“Chinese desserts are crap”
NO SO BILE
At most, he illustrates it with images straight out of a portfolio edited by Henri de Lesquen, with this Chinese tourist in cap and selfie stick or this modern animalist painter with works sprinkled with dog piss. If the total lack of humanity will not surprise anyone, the lack of ideas of What have we all done to God? surprised.
Usually so generous in fat, thunderous flatulence, we are surprised to see the franchise no longer being able to let off a few little residual gag farts, like Super Mario the Italian plumber with a big mustache/red sweater/blue overalls, or Helmut, this German in whom “you can never completely trust”their refinement concealing a culture of “knife in the back”. One more invader of our sweet France, and an authentic unfossilized specimen of an antediluvian patriotic humor that we thought disappeared with the dinosaurs.
A beautiful bunch of diplodocus
With this quasi-Nazi come into the arms of our protagonist to take his companion, What have we all done to God? passes the Godwin point, the final frontier of gastric humor before the brown hole. After that: the interstellar void, and perhaps, finally, a little peace at the other end of the tapeworm tunnel. However, to see all this band of zozos crushed by the anti-co(s)mic singularity that they themselves have generated creates a form of disappointment within the relief that this probable announced brain death provides – a fortiori with the setting in examination for rape of actor Ary Abittan.
Hey, it’s funny, there’s an actor missing in the photos
KEYBOARD > NIETZSCHE
Not that we regret that after God, it’s up to the Great Satan to die, but that’s where the nullity lies this time: by losing its exceptional character, the saga also loses in spectacle, the astonishment giving way to a comfortable paralysis. Is it better to be like the others, or to stand out by its abjection? It’s up to you to decide. In any case, here, the usual savage obscene counter-performance is replaced by a cushy and boring counter-performance that looks like the day after being drunk, those inhabited by a haggard boredom punctuated by a few filthy hiccups and painful regurgitations.
Because, like the others, What have we all done to God? is an ideological Turkish toilet, of those in which one lets go as if to confess, taking care to put it everywhere, bursting out laughing imagining the face of the wee-lady who will have to clean everything up after him. The difference is that this time, the bag of viscera having already been emptied by the two previous opuses, this third is in great difficulty to purge and dump.
jesus is coming back
There is nothing left to expel and yet the body still compresses, surely in search of a last ebb in which to choke and leave like the great rockstars in a redemptive death. Because yes: What have we all done to God? seek forgiveness, even insists on his benevolence and open-mindedness, even to the point of yelling it at us with its black Jesus, historical probability obsessing the misunderstood Philippe de Chauveron so much that he goes so far as to make it the star of his only scene, a little bit first degree, staging a show drama within the film itself.
A reflective mise en abyme, the aim of which would be to shed light on a truth so misunderstood that What have we all done to God? goes so far as to scream it in our ears with its vociferous credits “BEYOND OUR DIFFERENCES”from Johnny Hallyday’s song Blood for Blood. It is therefore well understood, in the future we will try to correct our errors, and to take the work for what it claims to be: an observer of our society. Who understands nothing, hears nothing, sees nothing, but cries out his benevolent intolerance very loudly with his hands as a megaphone. More than a little monkey to neutralize.