Gad Elmaleh: The Life Story Behind France's Comedy Star

Gad Elmaleh was thirty when La Vérité si je mens! 2 made him a star in France, and the film is still the centre of his story, the role against which every other role is measured. He was born on 19 April 1971 in Casablanca, in Morocco, to a Jewish family, and he grew up speaking French and Arabic, in a city that was Moroccan, French and Jewish all at once, and he moved to Paris, then to Montreal, then back to Paris, and he learned to be funny in three languages, in three cultures, and the learning is the foundation of his comedy: he is a Moroccan Jew who became the most famous comedian in France, a man who makes French audiences laugh at themselves, and who does it by being an outsider, by watching, by imitating, and by telling the truth with a joke. The career that followed took him to Chouchou, to La Doublure, to Coco, to Midnight in Paris, to Netflix, to Los Angeles, and the journey is the story of a man from Casablanca who became a star in Paris, and who is still, at fifty-five, trying to make the world laugh.

Casablanca, 1971: A Childhood in Morocco

Gad Elmaleh was born in Casablanca in 1971, when Morocco was an independent kingdom, when Casablanca was a city of French, Moroccan, Jewish and Arab life, a port city on the Atlantic, and he grew up in a Jewish family, speaking French at home, Arabic in the streets, and Hebrew in the synagogue, and the three languages, the three cultures, were the air he breathed. He has described his childhood as happy, with a family that was close, with a father who was a mime artist, and with a mother who was warm, and the family is the source of his comedy: his father was a mime, a man who made people laugh without speaking, and Gad learned, young, that comedy is a physical thing, a face, a gesture, a silence, and that the silence can be funnier than the words. The childhood in Casablanca matters, because it gave Elmaleh a sense of being an outsider, a Jew in Morocco, a Moroccan in France, a Frenchman in America, and the outsider’s eye is visible in his comedy, which often plays men who are watching a room, judging it, and deciding how to make it laugh.

The city also gave him a voice, a face, a presence. Elmaleh is a small man, with a expressive face, with a voice that can be French, Moroccan, American, and the face is the instrument: he can imitate, he can exaggerate, he can be a waiter, a rich man, a poor man, a Moroccan, a Frenchman, and the audience believes him, because the imitation is not a caricature, it is an observation, a man who has watched people, and who knows how they move, how they speak, how they laugh. The Casablanca childhood is the source of the observation, and the source is deep.

Paris, Montreal and the Decision to Be Funny

Elmaleh left Morocco at seventeen, and he went to Paris, and then to Montreal, in Canada, where he studied, where he performed, and where he learned that comedy is a job, a craft, and not a gift. Montreal is a city of comedy, of festivals, of stand-up, and Elmaleh, a young Moroccan Jew in Quebec, learned to be funny in French, in a French that is not Parisian, and the learning is the foundation: he learned to write jokes, to time them, to perform them, and to fail, in front of a live audience, and the failing is the education. He returned to Paris in the early 1990s, and he began to perform stand-up in small clubs, in Paris, in front of audiences who did not know him, and he learned, night after night, how to make a room laugh, and the learning is the career.

The move matters because it shows Elmaleh as a man who chose comedy, who left home, who went to a foreign country, and who decided to be funny, and the decision is brave, because comedy is a hard job, and a foreigner who tries to be funny in a language that is not his first is taking a risk, and Elmaleh took it, and the risk paid off, because the audience in Paris liked him, because he was different, because he was Moroccan, because he was Jewish, because he was an outsider, and the outsider is funny, because the outsider sees what the insider cannot see, and the seeing is the joke.

Décalages and the First One-Man Shows

Elmaleh’s first success came with his one-man shows, in Paris, in the late 1990s, in which he played characters, imitated people, told stories about his life, about Morocco, about France, and the audience laughed, because the stories were true, because the characters were real, and because Elmaleh’s face, his voice, his body, made them live. His show Décalages, performed in 1997, was a success, and it introduced him to a French audience, a man who could hold a stage alone, for two hours, and make an audience laugh, and the holding is the proof of a comedian: a stand-up who can hold a room alone is a rare thing, and Elmaleh is one of them. The one-man shows were the foundation of his career, and they remain the centre of it, because Elmaleh is, at heart, a stand-up, a man who stands alone on a stage, and who makes people laugh, and the film roles, the television, the Netflix series, are all built on that foundation.

The one-man shows matter for another reason, which is that they gave Elmaleh a reputation as a comedian who is not just funny, but observant, a man who watches French society, who sees its manners, its hypocrisies, its kindnesses, and who makes jokes about them, and the jokes are not cruel, they are affectionate, they are the jokes of a man who loves France, who is French, and who is also Moroccan, and who sees France from the side, and the side view is the comedy. The shows toured France, they were recorded, they were broadcast, and they made Elmaleh a star, and a star who has lasted, because the comedy is not a moment, it is a life, and the life is the show.

La Vérité si je mens! 2: Dov and the Film Star

The role that made Elmaleh a film star came in 2001, in La Vérité si je mens! 2, directed by Thomas Gilou, in which he played Dov, a young Jewish man in Paris, a friend of the gang, a man who is funny, who is charming, who is trying to make money, and who is, in many ways, the heart of the film. The film is a comedy about Jewish businessmen in Paris, about friendship, about money, about a community, and Elmaleh’s Dov is the young one, the funny one, the one who makes the audience laugh, and the performance made him a film star, a man whose face was known, whose name was known, and who could carry a film. The film was a huge success in France, it became a classic of French comedy, and Elmaleh’s Dov is one of the reasons, because he is funny, because he is real, and because the audience recognises him, as a friend, as a brother, as a man they know.

Dov matters because it is a role that is close to Elmaleh’s own life: a young Jewish man in Paris, a man who is funny, who is trying, and the closeness is the performance, because Elmaleh does not act Dov, he is Dov, or at least he knows Dov, and the knowing is the comedy. The film also gave him a reputation as a film actor, a man who could do more than stand-up, who could play a character, who could work in an ensemble, and who could make an audience laugh in a film as well as on stage. The reputation opened doors, to Chouchou, to La Doublure, to Coco, and the doors are the career.

Chouchou: The Character That Became a Phenomenon

In 2003 Elmaleh starred in Chouchou, directed by Merzak Allouache, in which he played Chouchou, a young man from North Africa who comes to Paris, who dresses as a woman, who works in a cabaret, and who is, in many ways, a portrait of an immigrant, a man who is trying to survive in a city that is not his, and who does it with humour, with charm, and with a dress. The film was a success in France, it made Chouchou a famous character, a man in a dress who is funny, who is touching, and who is, for many French audiences, the image of Elmaleh, and the image is a trap, because an actor who is known for a character in a dress is often not taken seriously as an actor, and Elmaleh spent the rest of his career trying to escape that trap, by taking serious roles, by doing stand-up, by playing different characters, and the trying is the story.

Chouchou matters because it shows Elmaleh’s bravery, his willingness to play a character who is a transvestite, who is an immigrant, who is vulnerable, and to play him with a dignity, a warmth, and a humour that make the audience love him, not laugh at him. The film is a comedy, but it is also a drama, about a man who is alone, who is far from home, and who is trying to be himself, and Elmaleh’s performance is the proof that comedy can be serious, that a funny character can also be a real person, and that the audience can laugh and cry at the same time. The character became a phenomenon, and the phenomenon is the reason Elmaleh is remembered, and the remembering is deserved, because the performance is brave.

La Doublure and Coco: The Leading Man

In 2006 Elmaleh starred in La Doublure, released in English as The Valet, directed by Francis Veber, in which he played François Pignon, a man who is hired to pretend to be the lover of a famous model, played by Alice Taglioni, in order to hide her affair with a rich businessman, and the film is a comedy, it is funny, it is warm, and Elmaleh’s François is the heart of it: a man who is ordinary, who is kind, who is in love, and who is, in the end, a hero, not because he is rich, but because he is good. The film was a success in France, and it proved that Elmaleh could carry a film as a leading man, that he could play a romantic, a man who is in love, and that the audience would believe him, because he is funny, because he is warm, and because he is real.

In 2009 he starred in Coco, directed by himself, in which he played Coco, a man who is rich, who is self-made, who is trying to marry his son to a good family, and the film is a comedy about money, about class, about a Moroccan Jew who has become rich in France, and who is trying to be accepted, and Elmaleh’s Coco is a portrait of a man who is funny, who is proud, and who is, in the end, a father, and the fatherhood is the point. The film was a success, and it showed that Elmaleh could direct, that he could write, and that he could play a character who is close to his own life, a man from Morocco who has made it in France, and the closeness is the performance.

Midnight in Paris, Despicable Me and the Voice

In 2011 Elmaleh appeared in Midnight in Paris, directed by Woody Allen, in which he played a detective, a small role, but a role in a film by one of the most respected American directors, and the appearance mattered, because it showed that Hollywood knew him, that Woody Allen wanted him, and that he could work in English, in an American film, and hold his own. The role is small, but it is a sign: Elmaleh, a Moroccan Jew from Casablanca, was now in a Woody Allen film, in Paris, playing a French detective, and the circle is complete, a man who left Morocco for Paris, and who is now in a film about Paris, by an American, and the film is a love letter to Paris, and Elmaleh is part of it.

He is also the French voice of Gru in Despicable Me, known in French as Moi, moche et méchant, a role that uses his voice, his timing, his ability to be funny and menacing at the same time, and the voice work is a reminder that Elmaleh’s voice is one of his instruments, a voice that can be a villain, a father, a comedian, and that the versatility is the point. The voice work matters because it introduced him to a young audience, to children who know Gru, who love Gru, and who do not know that Gru is Gad Elmaleh, and the not knowing is the pleasure, because the voice is the character, and the character is the performance.

Huge in France and the American Adventure

In 2019 Elmaleh starred in Huge in France, a Netflix series, in which he played a version of himself, a famous French comedian who moves to Los Angeles to try to make it in America, and who discovers that nobody knows him, that he must start again, and the series is a comedy about fame, about being famous in one country and unknown in another, and about a man who is trying to be funny in English, in a language that is not his first. The series is autobiographical, it is honest, and it is funny, because Elmaleh plays himself as a man who is lost, who is trying, and who is, in the end, a comedian, and the comedy is the point: a famous man who is unknown is a funny premise, and Elmaleh makes it funnier by playing it straight, by showing the embarrassment, the loneliness, and the determination.

The American adventure matters because it shows Elmaleh’s ambition, his willingness to leave France, to go to Los Angeles, to try stand-up in English, and to fail, and to try again, and the trying is the story of his whole career: a boy from Casablanca who went to Paris, who went to Montreal, who went to Los Angeles, and who keeps going, keeps trying, keeps making people laugh, in French, in English, in Arabic, and the languages are the career, and the career is the man.

The Stand-Up in English and the Return

Elmaleh has performed stand-up in English in the United States, in clubs in New York and Los Angeles, in front of audiences who did not know him, and the performances were a risk, because a comedian who is famous in French must prove himself again in English, must make a new audience laugh, in a new language, and Elmaleh took the risk, and he did it, and the doing is the proof that he is a comedian, not just a French comedian, but a comedian, a man who can make any audience laugh, if he works at it. The English stand-up is a new chapter, a man in his fifties who is starting again, and the starting again is the mark of an artist who refuses to stop, who keeps learning, who keeps growing.

He has returned to France, to stand-up, to film, and the return is not a defeat; it is a homecoming, a man who tried America, who learned, and who came back to Paris, to the stage where he belongs, and the belonging is the point. Elmaleh is now in his mid-fifties, he has a career that spans thirty years, he has films, he has one-man shows, he has a Netflix series, and he has the freedom to choose, and the choices he has made suggest that he will keep performing, keep making people laugh, and keep building a career that is his.

Family, Noé, Raphaël and the Private Life

Elmaleh has two sons: Noé, with the actress Anne Brochet, and Raphaël, with Charlotte Casiraghi, a member of the Monaco royal family, with whom he was in a relationship from 2013 to 2015. He keeps his private life private, he does not share it on social media in detail, and he lets the work speak, and the choice is a statement: the comedian is not the gossip, and the gossip is not the comedy. He has spoken about fatherhood with a warmth that is genuine, about the joy of being a father, about the way his sons have changed his view of his work, and about the importance of being present, and the honesty is refreshing, because a comedian who talks about fatherhood as a job, as a responsibility, is a man who has grown up, and Elmaleh has grown up, from the boy from Casablanca who wanted to be funny to the father of two who still makes people laugh.

He remains connected to Morocco, to Casablanca, to his Jewish roots, and he has spoken about the importance of home, about the need to protect his family, and about the pride he feels in his origins. Elmaleh is now in his mid-fifties, he has a career that is his, he has Dov, Chouchou, Coco, and he has the freedom to choose his next work, and the choices he has made suggest that he will keep choosing work that makes people laugh, keep performing, and keep building a career that is his.

The Comedian, the Actor and the Outsider

Elmaleh’s place in French comedy is secure, and it is a place that no one else occupies. He is Dov, he is Chouchou, he is Coco, he is the stand-up who holds a stage alone, and the four roles together are the portrait of a man who is Moroccan, Jewish, French, and who is a comedian, an actor, and an outsider, all at once. He has shown that a man from Casablanca can become the most famous comedian in France, that an outsider can make the insiders laugh at themselves, and that comedy, done honestly, is a way of belonging, and the belonging is the achievement. The legacy is not just the jokes; it is the permission he gives to other outsiders, to be funny, to be themselves, and the permission is the gift, and it will last.

The Legacy of La Vérité si je mens! 2 and Chouchou

The legacy of Elmaleh’s career is Dov and Chouchou, two characters who are now part of French popular culture, two men who are funny, who are real, and who are played with a honesty that is rare, and the two together are the proof of his talent. The audience that watches La Vérité si je mens! 2 now still laughs at Dov, still recognises him, still loves him, and the laughing is the legacy, and it will last. The audience that watches Chouchou still remembers the man in the dress, still feels his loneliness, still understands his humour, and the remembering is the legacy, and it will last, because great comedy does not fade, it grows, and Elmaleh’s comedy has grown, year after year, into the classics it is.

My Take:

The first thing to say about Gad Elmaleh is that he is an outsider, and the outsider is funny. He was born in Casablanca, to a Jewish family, he grew up speaking French and Arabic, he moved to Paris, to Montreal, to Los Angeles, and he has spent his life watching rooms, judging them, and making them laugh, and the watching is the comedy: an outsider sees what an insider cannot see, the manners, the hypocrisies, the kindnesses, and the seeing is the joke. Elmaleh’s comedy is not cruel; it is affectionate, it is the comedy of a man who loves France, who is French, and who is also Moroccan, and who sees France from the side, and the side view is the funniest view, because it is honest.

The second thing is the face, and how it works. Elmaleh’s face is expressive, it is small, it is mobile, and it is the instrument that makes his comedy work, because he can imitate, he can exaggerate, he can be a waiter, a rich man, a poor man, a Moroccan, a Frenchman, and the audience believes him, because the imitation is not a caricature, it is an observation. The face is the gift of his father, a mime artist, a man who made people laugh without speaking, and Gad learned, young, that comedy is a physical thing, a face, a gesture, a silence, and that the silence can be funnier than the words. The face is the performance, and the performance is the man.

The third thing is the one-man show, and how difficult it is. Elmaleh holds a stage alone, for two hours, and makes an audience laugh, and the holding is the proof of a comedian: a stand-up who can hold a room alone is a rare thing, and Elmaleh is one of them. The one-man shows, Décalages and the ones that followed, are the foundation of his career, and they remain the centre of it, because Elmaleh is, at heart, a stand-up, a man who stands alone on a stage, and who makes people laugh, and the film roles, the television, the Netflix series, are all built on that foundation. The stage is where he learned, where he failed, where he grew, and the stage is where he belongs.

The fourth thing is Dov, and the film star. Elmaleh played Dov in La Vérité si je mens! 2, a young Jewish man in Paris, a man who is funny, who is charming, who is trying to make money, and the performance made him a film star, because he is funny, because he is real, and because the audience recognises him. Dov matters because it is a role that is close to Elmaleh’s own life, a young Jewish man in Paris, and the closeness is the performance, because Elmaleh does not act Dov, he knows Dov, and the knowing is the comedy. The film was a huge success, and it opened doors, to Chouchou, to La Doublure, to Coco, and the doors are the career.

The fifth thing is Chouchou, and the bravery. Elmaleh played a young man from North Africa who comes to Paris, who dresses as a woman, who works in a cabaret, and he played him with a dignity, a warmth, and a humour that make the audience love him, not laugh at him. The role is brave, because it asks a comedian to play a transvestite, an immigrant, a vulnerable man, and to play him as a person, not as a joke, and Elmaleh does, and the doing is the proof that comedy can be serious, that a funny character can also be a real person. The character became a phenomenon, and the phenomenon is the reason Elmaleh is remembered, and the remembering is deserved.

The sixth thing is the voice of Gru, and the children. Elmaleh is the French voice of Gru in Despicable Me, a role that uses his voice, his timing, his ability to be funny and menacing at the same time, and the voice work introduced him to a young audience, to children who know Gru, who love Gru, and who do not know that Gru is Gad Elmaleh. The not knowing is the pleasure, because the voice is the character, and the character is the performance, and the performance is the proof that Elmaleh’s voice is one of his instruments, a voice that can be a villain, a father, a comedian, and that the versatility is the point.

The seventh thing is Huge in France, and the American adventure. Elmaleh played a version of himself, a famous French comedian who moves to Los Angeles and discovers that nobody knows him, and the series is a comedy about fame, about being famous in one country and unknown in another, and about a man who is trying to be funny in English. The series is autobiographical, it is honest, and it is funny, because Elmaleh plays himself as a man who is lost, who is trying, and who is, in the end, a comedian, and the comedy is the point. The American adventure shows his ambition, his willingness to start again, at fifty, in a new language, and the willingness is the mark of an artist who refuses to stop.

The eighth thing is the English stand-up, and the risk. Elmaleh has performed stand-up in English in the United States, in front of audiences who did not know him, and the performances were a risk, because a comedian who is famous in French must prove himself again in English, and Elmaleh took the risk, and he did it, and the doing is the proof that he is a comedian, not just a French comedian, but a comedian, a man who can make any audience laugh, if he works at it. The risk is the story of his whole career: a boy from Casablanca who went to Paris, who went to Montreal, who went to Los Angeles, and who keeps going, keeps trying, keeps making people laugh.

The ninth thing is the father, the mime, and the silence. Elmaleh’s father was a mime artist, a man who made people laugh without speaking, and Gad learned, young, that comedy is a physical thing, a face, a gesture, a silence, and that the silence can be funnier than the words. The lesson is visible in his performances, in the pause before the joke, in the look, in the gesture, and the pause is the comedy, because the audience waits, and the waiting makes the joke funnier. The father is the source, and the source is deep, and the son has honoured it, by making people laugh, in French, in English, in Arabic, with his face, with his voice, with his silence.

The tenth thing is the privacy, and the boundary he keeps. Elmaleh keeps his private life private, he does not share it on social media in detail, and he lets the work speak, and the choice is a statement: the comedian is not the gossip, and the gossip is not the comedy. He has two sons, Noé and Raphaël, and he has spoken about fatherhood with a warmth that is genuine, and the honesty is refreshing, because a comedian who talks about fatherhood as a job is a man who has grown up. The boundary is healthy, and it is also useful, because it means that when Elmaleh appears on stage, the audience sees the comedian, not the celebrity.

The eleventh thing is the Moroccan identity, and how it survives. Elmaleh is Moroccan, he is Jewish, he is French, and he has kept all three identities, even as he became a star in Paris, even as he performed in Los Angeles. The identity matters, because it gives him a home, a language, a place that is his, and the home is the anchor. The French fame could have made him a Frenchman only, but he is also Moroccan, and also Jewish, and the three identities together make a man who belongs to the Mediterranean, to Casablanca, to Paris, and the belonging is the point. The audience in Morocco claims him, and the audience in France claims him, and both claims are true.

The twelfth thing is the range, and how wide it is. Dov and Chouchou and Coco have nothing in common: one is a young Jewish man in Paris, one is a transvestite from North Africa, one is a rich Moroccan Jew who has made it in France, and the same actor played all three, and played them all well. The range is not a trick; it is a discipline, the discipline of a man who learned by working, who worked in stand-up, in film, in television, and who never lets one role bleed into the next. The audience that watches La Vérité si je mens! 2 and then watches Chouchou is watching two different men, and the fact that they are the same actor is the point. Elmaleh’s range is the range of a serious artist, and it is rare.

The thirteenth thing is the future, and what it might hold. Elmaleh is in his mid-fifties, he has a career that spans thirty years, he has films, he has one-man shows, he has a Netflix series, and he has the freedom to choose, and the choices he has made suggest that he will keep performing, keep making people laugh, and keep building a career that is his. The audience should expect more stand-up, more films, more of the observation and the imitation that have marked his career, and the expectation is a happy one, because Elmaleh has earned it. The boy from Casablanca who wanted to be funny became the most famous comedian in France, and the becoming is not over.

The fourteenth thing is the influence, and how it is already visible. Young French comedians cite Elmaleh as an influence, young Moroccan artists see that a man from Casablanca can become a star in Paris, and the seeing is the influence. The influence is not a matter of copying; it is a matter of permission, of Elmaleh giving other artists permission to be outsiders, to be funny, to be themselves. The permission is the gift, and it is a gift that will last longer than any single joke, because it changes what other artists believe is possible.

The fifteenth thing is the legacy, and what it will be. Elmaleh’s legacy is Dov and Chouchou, two characters who are now part of French popular culture, two men who are funny, who are real, and who are played with a honesty that is rare, and the two together are the proof of his talent. The legacy is not just the jokes; it is the proof that a man from Casablanca can become the most famous comedian in France, that an outsider can make the insiders laugh at themselves, and that comedy, done honestly, is a way of belonging. The audience that watches La Vérité si je mens! 2 now still laughs at Dov, and the laughing is the legacy, and it will last.

The sixteenth thing is the generosity, and how it shows in the work. Elmaleh’s comedy is not cruel; it is affectionate, it is the comedy of a man who loves the people he imitates, who sees their faults and their kindnesses, and who makes jokes that include them, not jokes that exclude them. The generosity is the mark of a great comedian, a man who makes an audience laugh with him, not at someone else, and the with is the point. The audience laughs with Elmaleh, and the laughing together is the pleasure, and the pleasure is the reason the audience keeps coming back, year after year, to his shows, to his films, to his Netflix series.

The seventeenth thing, and the last, is the lesson. Elmaleh’s career says that a boy from Casablanca can become the most famous comedian in France, that an outsider can become an insider by making the insiders laugh, and that the work, done patiently over decades, is the way. He left Morocco at seventeen, he performed in Montreal, he performed in Paris, he played Dov, he played Chouchou, he played Coco, he tried Los Angeles, and he never stopped, and the never stopping is the point. The lesson is not that talent will always be recognised, but that the work, done with honesty and with a face that tells the truth, is its own reward, and that the reward, when it comes, is deserved. Elmaleh’s reward has come, in the form of a global audience, of a career that is his, and the audience that laughs at him now knows that it is laughing with a great comedian, and that the greatness was earned, in Casablanca, in Paris, in Montreal, and in every room where he stood alone on a stage and made people laugh.

Frequently Asked Questions

Who did Gad Elmaleh play in La Vérité si je mens! 2?

He played Dov, a young Jewish man in Paris who is part of a group of friends, in the 2001 comedy La Vérité si je mens! 2, a huge success in France that made him a film star.

Where was Gad Elmaleh born?

He was born on 19 April 1971 in Casablanca, Morocco, to a Jewish family, and he grew up speaking French and Arabic before moving to Paris and Montreal to pursue comedy.

Who is Chouchou?

Chouchou is a character Elmaleh played in the 2003 film Chouchou, a young man from North Africa who comes to Paris, dresses as a woman and works in a cabaret, a role that became a phenomenon in France.

What is Huge in France?

Huge in France is a Netflix series from 2019 in which Elmaleh played a version of himself, a famous French comedian who moves to Los Angeles and discovers that nobody knows him there.

Whose French voice is Gad Elmaleh in Despicable Me?

He is the French voice of Gru in Despicable Me, known in French as Moi, moche et méchant, using his timing and voice to make the villain both funny and menacing.

Who did Gad Elmaleh play in La Doublure?

He played François Pignon, a man hired to pretend to be the lover of a famous model, in Francis Veber’s comedy La Doublure (The Valet) from 2006, a leading-man role that proved he could carry a film.