Claude Faraldo’s absurdist ode to anarchy indulges in some gleeful taboo-breaking. A working man finds relief from daily dehumanization by converting his apartment into a primitive cave and rejecting every social convention, starting with his relationship to his own sister. The film has no screenplay credit and no dialogue, just grunts, gibberish and screams of the Primal persuasion. Michel Piccoli is brilliant as the nonverbal caveman-revolutionary. His rebellion proves to be contagious — women find his uncouth liberation irresistible.

Themroc
Blu-ray
Radiance Films
1973 / Color B&W / 1:66 widescreen / 109 min. / Street Date May 19, 2025 / Available from Radiance Films / £14.99
Starring: Michel Piccoli, Béatrice Romand, Marilù Tolo, Francesca Romana Coluzzi, Jeanne Herviale, Paul Barrault, Madeleine Damien, Patrick Lewaere, Miou-Miou, Catherine Mitry.
Cinematography: Jean-Marc Ripert
Costume Design: Michèle Cerf
Film Editor: Noun Serra
Produced by Harald Maury
Directed by Claude Faraldo

Themroc was a mystery film back in 1973; at the UCLA Research Library’s Theater Arts Reading Room, my first job was typing cards to index the contents of film periodicals. One review stood out from the other foreign titles I couldn’t read for its still photos of actor Michel Piccoli screaming like a madman. Themroc remained an unknown item; I never found a word written about it in English. It was later lumped in with other films in (somebody’s idea of) the spirit of the May ’68 strikes. That ill-defined call to revolution produced its share of pictures with anarchic, allegorical and absurd premises. Themroc outpaces most simply by not being a flat-out bore. The inspiration may have been some the more radical scenes in Jean-Luc Godard’s  Week end; director Claude Faraldo gives his story a feeling of purpose. Star Michel Piccoli is charmingly animated in the title role. On the basis of what we see here, he’d have made a good silent movie personality.

Although Themroc has a rich audio track, silent movies come to mind because the movie has no dialogue, just gibberish talk plus the main character’s grunts, groans, shouts and screams. No screenwriter is credited. The word ‘Themroc’ may mean nothing; critics decided it was the main character’s name just to make describing the film easier. Actors Béatrice Romand, Marilù Tolo, Francesca Romana Coluzzi, Patrick Lewaere and Miou-Miou appear in parts big and small. We’re told that the many supporting parts are played by a theater group. They’re a lively and distinctive bunch.

Claude Faraldo offers an alternative to socially-aware Elio Petri films about downtrodden working men who  strike or  commit crimes — why not Reject Everything and go primitive?  A handheld camera records a big day in the life of maintenance painter Themroc (Michel Piccoli) in grubby naturalistic terms — upon which is superimposed an amusing ‘direct mime’ performing style and some truly radical ideas. It’s no surprise that the movie saw a lot of coverage in higher-end film magazines: it has a lively star, plenty of nudity and it breaks taboos. When Themroc checks out of his humiliating ordained role in The System, he doesn’t do things by half measures.

The show challenges the audience right away, with A Day At Work That Changes Everything. Our hero Themroc lives with his mother (Jeanne Herivale) and sister (B&eaacute;atrice Romand) in a cramped apartment. We soon realize that he has few if any inhibitions about sex. He makes eyes at every woman he sees, and engages in an incestuous flirtation with his sister. Themroc’s primitive instinct for freedom is bursting to get out; whenever he’s alone he’ll let loose shouts and screams. An irate boss whacks him in the nose, getting his overalls all bloody; Themroc takes this in stride and submits when the workplace security men usher him into various offices to wait for a dressing-down. His mischievous smiles repeatedly evoke positive responses from women. While waiting for the boss he performs oral sex on a secretary (Marilù Tolo), who loves every minute of it.

Themroc picks up the germ of a new idea … watching a demolition crew pull down an ancient building, his face is transfigured with joy. Back at home, he begins an open sex relationship with his sister, which causes his distraught but powerless mother to take on a serious nervous tic. With some stolen masonry, he seals off part of their 2nd floor flat; he then uses a sledge to bash a large hole in an exterior wall, with a rope ladder to enter and exit. Before you can say ‘Fred Flintstone’ he begins tossing his possessions out of the cave opening — furniture, valuables — causing a hazard to those walking below. Themroc is turning himself into a 20th century cave man. Forget cults and communes; he’s a primitive dropout, a nation of One.

Along with some well-judged editing, Faraldo’s excellent direction orchestrates other elements well. Béatrice Romand’s nudity is near-constant yet seems a well-judged part of the concept. Themroc’s neighbors react in different ways, making us think a bit of  Rear Window. One man is moved to beat his wife, while a female neighbor (Francesca Romana Coluzzi) is so inspired by Themroc’s revolt that she climbs the rope ladder and spends the night with him. She then returns and directs her passive husband to turn their apartment into a cave dwelling, the same way.

The police show up but can do little. They fuss and prance about, but none seem willing to confront Themroc directly, as if cowed by his elemental power. Security men, subway conductors and cops on the street can do nothing with a man who doesn’t bow to their uniforms and badges. Some hollow uniforms turn tail when he screams like a madman; others intuit that he’s just a lot of trouble and ignore him. The riot squad that turns up when Themroc rains furniture on his neighbors are just as ineffectual. The cops may be okay as individuals, but in their paddy wagons they molest their female arrestees.

The odd thing is that Themroc’s anarchy appears to be contagious. His neighbors become liberated, and mimic his anti-social destructive behavior. In the chaos at the siege of Themroc’s apartment building, several cops take the opportunity to rape a young woman. That’s the effect Themroc has on people … does True Liberation mandate the breakdown of society?

Claude Faraldo’s achievement is turning this abstract farce into a coherent movie. He communicates his points well, using non-verbal storytelling. Everybody talks gibberish; since the English subtitles all say ‘gibberish talk here’ we soon turn them off. That conceit isn’t belabored, and in fact focuses us on the emotions in the voices as opposed to the meaning of what’s being said. Themroc’s grumbing, shouting and screaming — he favors bathroom stalls for scream concerts — directly express a suppressed male spirit desperate for self-expression.

The stumbling block in Faraldo’s absurd soufflé is his sexual politics, which posit a world where Real Men rule and women are just around to gratify their sex urges. A man who knows his own wants and isn’t afraid to act on them is the master of all women he sees. Save for the mother, every woman on view is a sexy item. Themroc’s coy smiles in stairwells stop being cute after Babe #3, but every female in the working world behaves as if his Natural Un-repressed Maleness were projecting irresistible pheromones. The humorless secretary instantly welcomes Themroc’s sexual advance under her desk. Back at home, Themroc’s sister becomes a docile sex slave, sticking by his side and pestering him for more. When the neighbor woman spends the night with Themroc, sister waits below, patiently accepting whatever access she’ll be allowed. It’s Alley Oop time, even if caveman Themroc drags nobody by the hair.

The idea to achieve working class liberation by dismantling civilization is all-male, no girls allowed. Frankly, we’re surprised that the absurdities don’t fall flat long before the gender politics go sour.

This takes us only partly into the third act; things get even more dire before the show is over, with more basic social taboos tossed to the winds. The gendarme’s union won’t be pleased, but after 50 years of exploitative extremes, the shock value has likely diminished somewhat for viewers with no cultural memory of earlier times. European critics liked edgy movies as much as did American reviewers, just because sensation attracts attention. Themroc does its bit for bad taste and became a critical curiosity in Paris for a few months in 1973-74. In terms of mainstream awareness, it likely came and went in a vacuum, remaining obscure — but chic! — for half a century. It’s more than a curio, as Michel Piccoli lends dignity to everything he does. W e like him a lot better here than in Marco Ferreri’s difficult-to-interpret  Dillinger Is Dead.

Piccoli was one of France’s most cheerfully adventurous actors. Here he approaches middle age physically fit, with a shock of curly red hair that at times takes on a slightly Bozo quality. He was unafraid of controversy and took on some truly weird projects. No longer easy to see is a picture he made the next year,  Le trio infernal (The Infernal Trio), which is listed as a black comedy. His character, along with Romy Schneider and Mascha Gonska’s, climaxes a string of murders for profit by dissolving corpses in acid … all portrayed in gruesome detail. Mmmm Good!  What’s for dinner?

Radiance Films’ Blu-ray of Themroc is described as a World Blu-ray Premiere, given a 4K restoration from the original negative by StudioCanal. It is All-Region, playing in Regions A and B alike. Although described as a low-budget picture, with main titles that are hand-crafted, the show has a professional look at all times. Camerman Jean-Marc Ripert filmed François Reichenbach’s  L’Amérique insolite, giving the show a rich semi-documentary quality. The often-handheld camerawork is natural and unaffected in many unusual situations, as when Themroc wanders into a Métro tunnel.

The excellent soundtrack works with those gibberish voices and natural sounds. There is no music score. We do the work of figuring out Themroc on our own. The movie both holds and rewards our attention.

Radiance’s extras show us that film critics found plenty to talk about. Critic David Thompson offers an analysis, which contrasts well with a filmed interview with Piccoli and Claude Faraldo from when the show was new. Manuela Lazic gives Michel Piccoli’s quirky career a nice going-over.

The informative insert text essay is by Alison Smith, author of French Cinema in the 1970s: The echoes of May. In just a few pages, she pegs movies that tapped into the notions of cultural revolt — not all of them post- May ’68 efforts. She postulates Themroc as a sort-of inversion of George Romero’s  Night of the Living Dead, with Themroc an egotistical loner trying to lock the world out instead of invading the sanctity of a house. He does invite comparisons with the madmen of horror movies — outrageous transgression is ‘fun’ if one secretly likes the idea of social destabilization. When Themroc takes advantage of the echoey Métro tunnel to screams just for the Hell of it, his goal appears to be to reclaim his potency and shout the news to the whole world. We relate to him as an elemental savage, just like old  King Kong.

Reviewed by Glenn Erickson

Themroc
Blu-ray rates:
Movie: Very Good + … for a black-comedy art film, Excellent
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements:
Interview with David Thompson (2025)
Interview with Michel Piccoli and director Claude Faraldo (1973)
Interview with Manuela Lazic on Michel Piccoli (2025)
Image Gallery
Trailer
Insert pamphlet with an essay by Alison Smith.
Deaf and Hearing-impaired Friendly? YES; Subtitles: English (feature only)
Packaging: One Blu-ray in Keep case
Reviewed: May 22, 2025
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