Poor Grégoire. Born on Friday the 13th; orphaned, ridiculed at school, brought up by dysfunctional grandparents, and still living at home, deeply frustrated, at 35. Is there no end to his misfortune? Perhaps happier times lie ahead after Granny is crushed to death by a weighty armoire and he moves to Paris. Or possibly not, given Grégoire's feckless approach to life. Granted he has to contend with a catalogue of life's unsparing trials (broken photocopier, jobsworth ticket inspector, unhinged taxi driver, and a string of petty, vindictive individuals and condescending colleagues), but he does himself few favours on his disaster-strewn path to a date with Odile, the beautiful, if scatterbrained local dance teacher. It's difficult not to be deeply irritated by both the character and the film. A 'black comedy' written, directed by and starring de Penguern, it aspires to an Amélie-like charm with its quirky scenarios and fantasy sequences, but frequently descends into nightmarish overstatement.