Susan Granger’s review of “Merci Docteur Rey” (Merchant Ivory/Regent Releasing)
Mounted in the sumptuous elegance for which Merchant Ivory productions are known, this bizarre French farce confounds with its complex, voyeuristic incongruity. In Paris, twentysomething Thomas (Stanislas Merhar) is a gay hustler who unwittingly witnesses the murder of the father (Simon Callow) he never knew by a hunky young stud (Karim Saleh), just as his self-absorbed diva mother (Dianne Wiest) is rehearsing Puccini’s “Turandot” at the Opera. Riddled with guilt, he seeks help from a psychiatrist named Dr. Rey, who – unbeknownst to Thomas – has just died of a heart attack. Penelope (Jane Birkin), a neurotic patient who suffers under the delusion that she is Vanessa Redgrave just because she dubs Vanessa’s voice in French films, pretends to be the analyst. Predictably, through this mistaken identity, a relationship develops between Thomas and Penelope, much to the chagrin of Thomas’ mother who is clueless about his real sexual orientation. All of this takes place amid several chaotic coincidences involving rent-boys, sordid family secrets, a 500-franc note, bumbling policemen, a jar of rancid mayonnaise and hash brownies. First-time feature writer/director Andrew Litvak not only fails to develop consistently credible characters but his pseudo-sophisticated plot is so muddled as to be incomprehensible. In a backstage dressing room sequence, Jerry Hall delivers a gratuitous cameo, as does Vanessa Redgrave, appearing as herself, while Jane Birkin – inexplicably – wears a dress that matches the wallpaper. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Merci Docteur Rey” is a flimsy, fallible 4. There’s much ado about very little in this Gallic comedy/melodrama.
