Director shows deft touch

French writer-director Francis Veber has had perhaps more of his films remade in America than any other foreign director. But he was still surprised by the interest in “The Valet” (“La Doublure”), which opens in theaters today.

“The day after the first screening of the film, at the Los Angeles Film Festival, I had something like five studios fighting to buy the remake,” he reports on a recent stop in the District. “I realized it must be less French than I thought.”

In fact, “The Valet” is a rollicking farce whose humor is universal. The titular attendant can’t believe his luck when a rich businessman pays him to live with a supermodel. The businessman has been cheating on his wife and hopes to persuade her that the valet who was photographed with the pair is really the one dating the gorgeous woman.

The 69-year-old filmmaker offers a modest explanation of why so many of his films have been remade. “It’s not because my films are that good,” he says. “It’s because they are what they call in Hollywood ‘high-concept’ movies in which you can say the story in one line.”

“The Toy,” “Father’s Day” and “My Father the Hero” are just some of the films originally scripted in French by Mr. Veber. Some have been more successful than others. “Even Billy Wilder — I’m his biggest fan — made a bad movie with my script, ‘Buddy Buddy.’ I think the process of remaking a film is very difficult.”

One remake he likes is “The Birdcage,” adapted from his 1978 movie “La Cage aux Folles,” itself adapted in turn from Jean Poiret’s play of the same name. “When a remake is well done, it’s a miracle.”

Mr. Veber spends half his time in Paris, where he has a stage play opening in August, and half in Los Angeles. He’s made American films, too, like 1989’s “Three Fugitives.”

“I felt like I was at the peak of my career, and it felt bizarre to think I could never go higher. So when they offered me the chance to come to America, I accepted,” he recalls. “I like the American way of living. I live in Los Angeles in the Hills. To write there, it’s quiet. It’s very stressful to live in a city like Paris or New York for a writer.”

He’s not quite as fond of the American way of filming. “It’s far easier for me to direct in France because the process of making a film here is very long,” he says. “You write a screenplay of 115 pages and you have 115 pages of notes from the executives.”

He knows writers who haven’t had a film shot in 10 years and screenplays that are “sitting in cellars someplace” because a studio doesn’t want to produce it but won’t sell the rights in case they’re wrong and it becomes a hit.

Not that the film industry of his native land is without endemic problems of its own. “In France, we are helped so much by the government that some films don’t need an audience to open,” he observes. “They’ve already been paid [for] beforehand. It sometimes makes the French directors self-indulgent. They don’t have to be crowd-pleasers. Sometimes you have very intellectual, boring movies.”

Mr. Veber’s witty films are anything but boring. There is a small class of people who haven’t been pleased with his films, though: men named Francois Pignon. He’s used the name repeatedly in his films for the lovable — but none too bright — everyman.

“I don’t know why I got so attached to the name,” he says. “In France, we have 11 Francois Pignons.” And many of them wanted to sue him.

In “L’emmerdeur,” Pignon is the title character. In “The Closet,” he pretends to be homosexual. In “The Dinner Game,” he’s brought in for a dinner for idiots.

Mr. Veber called one Francois Pignon who wrote him an angry letter. He first called the director a bad name, but after some conversation, the two became friends.

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