The best comedies often have some resemblance to tragedy, finding humor in situations that might otherwise provoke tears or anger, and Un Air de Famille is a fine example of how to mine that humor. In real life, a person plunked down in the middle of the squabbles and disagreements that permeate Famille would head for the nearest exit as soon as possible, but watching their stories from a distance enables a viewer to laugh -- which he or she will, very often, and frequently with abandon. Famille is not the kind of comedy that scores because it is filled with extractable jokes, although there is plenty of witty dialogue thrown about; its most potent humor arises from its characters and situations, which are delineated with loving care by its creators, even when they are dealing with people behaving repugnantly. Cedric Klapisch's empathetic direction is perfectly in tune with the writers, and he molds this material into a sparkling, feisty, chaotically controlled whole that is a joy to watch. Helped immeasurably by a solid cast who know these characters inside and out (of which Catherine Frot's irresistible Yolande is first among equals), Un Air de Famille is the kind of touching, irritating, uproarious film that cuts close to the bone but does so with the care and precision of a fine, dedicated surgeon.