63 Years Later, This Irresistible French Catchphrase Still Captivates!

It’s hard not to immediately recognize the signature style of Michel Audiard when you hear one of his crafted lines pop up in a conversation. An undeniable legend in his field, this master of slang is arguably the most famous screenwriter in French cinema.

His words, delivered by silver screen legends such as Jean Gabin, Jean-Paul Belmondo, and Bernard Blier, often transcend the screen to embellish the friendly chats of some film enthusiasts.

Michel Audiard’s Genius

“When they start putting idiots in orbit, you won’t stop spinning.” “Idiots dare everything. That’s how you recognize them.” “If stupidity isn’t reimbursed by social security, you’ll end up broke.”

If you have a few friends who are fans of “Les Barbouzes” or “Les Tontons Flingueurs” (or if you are one yourself), you’ve surely heard these kinds of remarks at parties, usually centered around the same theme.

In the same vein, let’s focus today on another iconic phrase by Michel Audiard, delivered by Jean Gabin in “Le Cave se rebiffe,” a crime comedy directed by Gilles Grangier in 1961.

Jean Gabin as “Le Dabe”

In the movie, Gabin portrays Ferdinand Maréchal, also known as “Le Dabe,” an expert in counterfeit money who is approached by three protagonists eager to enter this risky business, albeit limited in every capacity.

To initiate the operation, Le Dabe visits one of his old friends who is supposed to handle the paper order and tries to describe as precisely as possible the man who will pick up the shipment: “a handsome dark-haired guy with little mustaches, tall, looks stupid.”

His acquaintance asks for more details because, in her words, “big idiots are a dime a dozen.” It’s then that Le Dabe, with the unmistakable intonation of Gabin, delivers the film’s most famous line:

“Yeah, but this one is a specimen! If stupidity could be measured, he’d be the standard meter!”

“He’d be in Sèvres,” he adds, referencing the city where the International Bureau of Weights and Measures is located. But it’s obviously the first part of the sentence that has etched itself into the annals of French cinema. As sharp and biting as Audiard has accustomed us to, it often reappears at gatherings among cinephile friends who have a soft spot for classic films.