The main question raised by Asterix and Obelix: The Big Fight (now on Netflix) is, what the hell is up with those pants Obelix wears? He’s an eternally shirtless fella who pulls his waistband up past his nipples, and the reason he does that is… well, “because it’s ridiculous” is the best explanation I can conjure. Anyway, this five-episode animated series adapts a popular 1966 collection of comic strips dubbed Asterix and the Big Fight, originally published in French newspapers, and the fifth such collection among dozens compiled since 1961, which helped spawn a multimedia franchise that’s been popular in Europe for decades. (Hey, remember when newspaper comics became major IP with crossovers into movies, TV and merchandise, making their creators multi-millionaires? Ah, the 20th century. How quaint!) This story already became a movie in 1989, but hey, here it is again, and experiencing it was a first for me, being an American who was more of a Charlie Brown/Bill the Cat/Calvin and Hobbes kid, and very much not a French kid poring over the adventures of two goofballs farting around during the time of the Roman Empire. Which doesn’t mean folks of my ilk can’t have fun with it, mind you.
Opening Shot: A butterfly flutters through a peaceful yellow sky (yes, yellow) and alights on a daisy. The ground rumbles, and it flutters away.
The Gist: Before we get into the why of the rumbling ground, a bit of background: It’s 50 B.C. Asterix (Alain Chabat) is a scrawny smart guy and Obelix (Gilles Lellouche) is the big simple brute. They’re best pals since way back, living in a humble Gaulish village in Franco-Belgium or Belgio-France or whatever you wanna call it. The Gauls are frequent targets of Roman armies bent on conquering the town. But the Gauls have a secret weapon: a magic potion concocted by the town druid Panoramix (Thierry Lhermitte) that gives people super strength. As the Romans assemble outside the gate, the Gauls line up for a sip from Panoramix’s ladle, then get on with beating the pus out of the colonizers. Even Obelix’s pup, Dogmatix, gets in his licks, and I don’t mean that literally.
Franchise lore dictates that Obelix is the only one who doesn’t get a sip of the potion, because he once fell in a vat of it and became permanently very very strong, strong enough to heft a Toyota Corolla if such a thing existed yet. How’d that happen, you no doubt wonder? Like this: We flash back to 78 B.C., when the village was permanently peaceful – BUT NOT FOR LONG, you cynics are all muttering – and Asterix and Obelix were impressionable young lads. Our two protags are prompted by a bully to break into the druid’s cabin, where Obelix accidentally invents the strength potion by tossing a lobster and some strawberries into a bubbling cauldron. Then, what with one thing and another, he ends up submerged in the stuff, and unsubmerges with the ability to juggle boulders. It also may have something to do with the four-leaf clover in his pocket. Neat!
Young Obelix soon realizes he doesn’t know his own strength. Also, that he’s capable of eating piles and piles and piles and piles of food, leveling up from piles and piles and piles before the potion. The other villagers start imbibing the stuff, and, frankly, abusing it to the point where Panoramix declares it for necessary use only, when the Gauls are in danger – thus inventing the first-ever prescription drug, I think? Then we jump back to 50 B.C., where more Romans amass outside the gate.
What Shows Will It Remind You Of? The Big Fight is the second Asterix venture for Netflix, after 2023’s live-action feature film Asterix and Obelix: The Middle Kingdom.
Our Take: My previous Asterix experiences are limited to The Middle Kingdom, a 112-minute slog of nonsense for its own sake that now, after watching the first 25-minute episode of The Big Fight, inspires me to assert that this particular franchise may be best consumed in smaller chunks. And in cartoon format, which works better for its brand of OTT slapstick and visual gags (although it doesn’t allow for cameos by the likes of Marion Cotillard or Vincent Cassel).
The bigger question is whether we need the “origin story” of the first episode, which precludes the pending conflict that doesn’t really begin until episode two, when the druid gets amnesia and can’t make the potion and therefore renders the Gauls vulnerable to Roman invasion. The debut at least helps fairweathers and newcomers orient themselves and get a sense of who-what-where-when-why, even if the why part of that never truly satisfies, which is one of the key components of nonsense for its own sake.
But we get to spend some quality time with these characters, and marinate a little in the goofy names and wordplay that make the Asterix universe unique, e.g., a throwaway joke when the Gauls queue up for their potion: “Prefix, let me in, Suffix, you’re behind,” quips one citizen. If this makes you smirk, well, there’s plenty of consistently smirkworthy material here, and plenty more to come, I’m sure. Whether all this is necessary or not in the grand scheme of the universe is moot; I was slightly more than moderately entertained, and that seems to be the point, especially for those of us who aren’t middle-Europeans and are therefore probably missing every other joke.
Sex and Skin: None in the first episode.
Parting Shot: The camera floats up out of the Gaulish village to cast its gaze upon another legion of Romans waiting for their asskicking.
Sleeper Star: Dogmatix steals a scene or two, even when he’s a pull-toy puppy in flashbacks. Aww.
Most Pilot-y Line: A bit of voiceover narration sums up Asterix’s brand of humor: “Life in the Gaulish village was nothing, but peace, love and harmony. I mean, it was the minus-’70s, after all.”
Our Call: Fun series so far if you need your Asterix fix. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
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