If Julie Delpy is one of the most American of French filmmakers, as she is so frequently called, then her sixth film Lolo is her most American of films. An Oedipal story of a son who sabotages his mother’s every relationship, the film is steeped in familiar tropes and filled to the hilt with comedic slapstick and sight gags that require no translation. Delpy, who stars as the single, 40-something Violette, is secondary to the clashes between her son Lolo (Vincent Lacoste) and new lover Jean-René (Dany Boon), and that selflessness as a director and writer pays off.
As a Parisian fashion director, Violette is initially unimpressed by provincial programmer Jean-René, but at the urging of her fellow 40-something friend Ariane (Karin Viard), she instigates a relationship while on a Biarritz spa vacation. What was meant to be temporary quickly turns serious, with both Violette and Jean-René exchanging “I love you’ ”s within a week, and Jean-René soon to be working full-time in Paris. Lolo’s less than excited reaction to his mother’s hasty relationship seems well within reason at this point. Jean-René, for his part, is blindsided by the fact that Lolo is nearly 20, since his mother constantly speaks about him as if he were barely five. But Violette is eager for the two of them to get along, and Lolo is all-too happy to begin his fool-proof plan to rid his mother of another plebian boyfriend.
Co-written with Eugénie Grandval, Lolo transforms very quickly from a film that bears all the hallmarks of a middle-aged meet-cute to a more predictable – and at times just as childish – story of Oedipal hazing. Lolo puts on a happy face for his mother but fills Jean-René’s head with false information and his closet with itching powder. He gives bad style advice. He spikes J.R.’s (as he takes to calling him) drink at a fashion event, resulting in an embarrassing run-in with Karl Lagerfeld. The hijinks are all more or less innocuous until Lolo replaces J.R.’s security program with a virus. Their head-butting becomes literal when the two attack each other with umbrellas and attempt to defenestrate one another.
Lolo‘s greatest assets are its breezy pacing and its comedic actors. Boon plays his usual dunce but with added charm, perhaps because he’s the one being mercilessly terrorized. Lacoste physically suits the role of the conniving son and gamely sells the childish costuming. Even though he isn’t the five-year-old Jean-René expected, Lolo nonetheless spends much of the film wandering around in pastel underwear and infantile attire. Delpy herself is certainly believable as a neurotic perfectionist trying to balance her personal and professional life, even if it’s hard to believe that Violette remains oblivious to her son’s antics until the finale.
Loose ends (loose screws, in Lolo’s case) are left dangling for the sake of a quick and neat ending, but the farce is an overall success. While Lolo is a lighter directorial offering, and Delpy’s most mainstream film to date, it is unique in its blend of romantic comedy and slapstick torture.