MOVIE REVIEW : ‘King of Hearts’: An Old Fable

Some movies fit their generation as snugly as a headband, as cozily as a sleeping bag in Big Sur. “King of Hearts” is one of them. The 1966 French comedy by Philippe de Broca seemed to coincide with counterculture attitudes percolating worldwide, especially in the United States, especially on campuses.

“King of Hearts,” which screens Friday as part of UC Irvine’s “Inside Outsiders” series, said “Down with war and up with individualism”--it quickly found a following among those looking to goose the establishment.

The story, written by Daniel Boulanger, was seen as a perfect shaggy-haired metaphor: Shy Scottish soldier Plumpick (Alan Bates) is sent into a small French town during World War I to uncover a batch of explosives left by the Germans and wired to detonate at midnight. The village is deserted, except for the inmates at the local insane asylum, who have escaped and are fulfilling their fantasies in town.

A crazed beauty runs a brothel, a loon with a fetish for stroking his doll’s hair is the barber, a madman with spiritual visions stands at the church pulpit. Plumpick isn’t sure what to make of it but is soon charmed by the idiosyncrasy, the freedom, the lack of responsibility. It’s a utopia where everybody gets along, and war seems like hellish unreality--in short, the town is hippie heaven.

The picture now strikes its loudest note as a reflection of the times, how De Broca was able to judge what was forming an era and create a parable both describing and justifying it. It’s no coincidence that Vietnam War protests were escalating at the same time in Europe, particularly France, and the fuse was also lit in the United States.

But these days, you can get squirmy watching “King of Hearts.” The whimsical flow, so natural then, now can feel more like an onslaught than a casual seduction.

This fable gets more fanciful, more precious, with age. Besides, all the characters are such characters that they often blur into one another, leaving De Broca’s vision of life seem less distinct than it must have been in the ‘60s. At his best, though, De Broca creates a comic style that can be described as elegant slapstick.

Certain scenes can sway you, as when Genevieve Bujold, playing Plumpick’s love interest, walks a telephone wire. The inmates ‘ final decision--whether to follow Plumpick beyond the village walls or to remain and face the explosion--is also affectionately rendered.

* Philippe de Broca’s “King of Hearts” screens Friday at 7 and 9 p.m. at the UC Irvine Student Center, Crystal Cove Auditorium. $2 and $4. (714) 856-6379.