Going Places (1974)

Going Places is special because it’s a comedy-drama that weaponizes its own bad taste into a kind of brutal, bracing honesty—Bertrand Blier shoots it with a cool, assured glide that makes the whole thing feel like a runaway car you can’t quite look away from. Depardieu and Dewaere have a feral, magnetic chemistry, and Miou-Miou brings a weary intelligence that turns the film’s sexual and emotional confusion into something strangely human rather than merely provocative. It’s outrageous and often darkly funny, but the laughter comes with a sting: the movie is less a plot than a jagged, inspired mood piece about fantasy, appetite, and the bourgeois comforts these characters joyfully vandalize. Fair warning, though—its sexual violence and pervasive coercion are severe, so this is only worth your time if you can engage with a confrontational, morally ugly film that’s aiming to shock you into thinking, not to comfort you.

Going Places is trying to be a rebellious, anti-bourgeois road comedy—an ugly little fable where two chaotic men tear through polite society and the film dares you to laugh at the wreckage. The problem is that its “anything goes” provocation leans heavily on sexual violence and humiliation, and the tone often treats that cruelty as a punchline rather than a critique, which can feel less edgy than outright sadistic. If you’re looking for a comedy-drama with human warmth, a moral compass, or even basic empathy for its women, this will likely feel grim, cynical, and exhausting. The main redeeming qualities are the raw energy of the performances and Blier’s audacious, confrontational style—but those only matter if you can stomach the film’s deliberately nasty worldview.