In short: Signed: Arsène Lupin (1959)

Original title: Signé, Arsène Lupin

After having fought as an ace pilot under the name of André Laroche, gentleman thief Arsène Lupin (Robert Lamoureux) takes a well-deserved time out flirting with nurses at a hospital. He’s getting bored eventually, particularly when his more serious love interest, mysterious Romanian Aurélia Valéano (Alida Valli) signals she’s losing interest in him by deciding to bring a friend with her on all future visits.

As luck will have it, an old criminal acquaintance of Lupin, La Ballu (director Yves Robert) has heard of a nice heist opportunity Lupin’s particular criminal genius would be needed for. Our hero is a bit rusty after all that war and the following relaxation it seems, and is actually surprised when La Ballu betrays him, absconding with some painting from Flemish masters. To add insult to injury, La Ballu also sends the police Lupin’s way, but that rusty, he’s not.

Because La Ballu really likes to rub it in, he’s now committing his next heist (again, Flemish paintings are involved) using Lupin’s name. Which is particularly rude since he’s not a gentleman thief and has no compunctions against violence and murder.

This is not the sort of thing Lupin’s just going to let slide, particularly not since all that Flemish painting business suggests to him that there’s something more interesting going on than just your standard thievery. Cue a treasure hunt.

As should be obvious after the description, this version of Arsène Lupin is very far away from a future of tragic backstories told through interminable flashbacks, or from any kind of serious commentary on the problems of the actual world. Instead, Yves Robert’s film is a light, charming piece of fluff with a hero who has a friendly wink for every single woman he meets (all of them, beautiful, obviously, and all of them completely charmed by the guy’s moustache), has ridiculous yet always effective plans for every situation, and faces trouble with a sort of insouciant coolness just this side of smug.

Thanks to director Yves Robert’s hand for the appropriate featherlight tone and the sort of pacing that only stops going merrily from fun adventure scene (light action included) to fun scene to rest for a scene of our hero making light of authority, or to present a neat and silly pulpy idea like showing his valet Albert (Jacques Dufilho) taking explosives from the logical place in their kind of household, the medicine cabinet.

All of this looks very fine indeed and, while it is certainly the old-fashioned kind of fun, never feels stuffy or melodramatic. But then, this was made by a director who casts himself as a villain who is more often than not the butt of the joke, so there’s a bit of friendly irony to be expected.