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Category: Response Reviews

My comments on Peary’s reviews in Guide for the Film Fanatic (Simon & Schuster, 1986).

Plaisir, Le / House of Pleasure (1952)

Plaisir, Le / House of Pleasure (1952)

“Happiness is not a joyful thing.”

Synopsis:
Guy de Maupassant (Jean Servais) narrates three of his loosely related stories: in “Le Masque”, a dandy (Paul Azais) in a full-face mask collapses on the floor during a ball and is taken home to his wife (Gaby Morlay); in “La Maison Tellier”, a madam (Madeleine Renaud) whose brother (Jean Gabin) and niece (Jocelyn Jany) live in the countryside takes her employees (Ginette Leclerc, Mila Parely, Danielle Darrieux, Amedee, Mathilde Casadesus, and Paulette Dubost) on a trip to see Jany’s First Communion; and in “Le Modele”, an artist (Daniel Gelin) falls madly, tragically in love with a model (Simone Simon).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Artists
  • Danielle Darrieux Films
  • Episodic Films
  • French Films
  • Historical Drama
  • Jean Gabin Films
  • Max Ophuls Films
  • Prostitutes and Gigolos
  • Strong Females

Response to Peary’s Review:
As Peary writes, the three episodes in this adaptation of Guy de Maupassant’s stories “all deal with the pursuit of pleasure (not necessarily happiness) and show how women of the heart (be they wives, dancing partners, lovers, or prostitutes) are essential to the stability of men.” He notes that the middle episode “is charming, full of the festivity, exuberance, and emotion that characterize Ophuls’s best work.”

However, he argues that “the other two segments are disappointing, flimsy, and — except for the wondrous interplay between Ophuls’s moving camera and the high-kicking, spinning dancers in the ball sequence of ‘The Mask’ — flatly directed.”

It’s hard to see how Peary could possibly make this claim, given that every single scene and sequence of this film is innovative in its direction. What’s less captivating overall (for me) are the stories themselves, which eventually build to a sense of coherence — pleasure always comes at a cost — but are not necessarily narratively compelling. With that said, it’s impossible to keep one’s eyes off of Ophuls’s prowess throughout this film: his camera is (almost) never not on the move, and it boggles the mind how many seamless tracking shots he manages to include, from the whirling opening sequences of the ball:

… to the extended sequence showing Renaud closing up her “house” for the night (significantly, we’re never allowed inside, instead simply watching everything from a distance, often through constructed barriers):

… to the devastating next-to-last sequence, shown from a woman’s point of view:

While this isn’t Ophuls’s best film, it’s well worth a look by all film fanatics simply to see his brilliance at work.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Ophuls’ incomparable camerawork



Must See?
Yes, once, for its masterful camerawork.

Categories

  • Important Director

Links:

Pepe Le Moko (1937)

Pepe Le Moko (1937)

“Arresting Pepe in a place like the Casbah isn’t child’s play.”

Synopsis:
When legendary thief Pepe Le Moko (Jean Gabin) — hiding in the corridors of the Algerian Casbah — meets and falls in love with a glamorous Parisienne (Mireille Balin), a trailing detective (Lucas Gridoux) finds it much easier to set a trap for him.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Detectives and Private Eyes
  • French Films
  • Jean Gabin Films
  • Julien Duvivier Films
  • Romance
  • Thieves and Criminals

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary asserts that while it’s “not as exotic as Algiers, the American remake starring Charles Boyer… and Hedy Lamarr,” this “great cinema romance” by Julien Duvivier is “a much better film.” He writes that “Jean Gabin is so naturally charismatic, suave, and charming that we tend to overlook that he’s not a nice guy.”

Indeed, “he treats his loyal native girlfriend Ines (Line Noro) like disposable trash”:

… and “he not only fails to protect his youngest gang member (Gilbert Gil)”:

… “but also sends his most trusting friend (Gabriel Gabrio) on a fool’s errand that gets him arrested.” However, “we don’t find him immoral, just as we find nothing objectionable about Gaby (Mireille Balin), the beautiful Parisian woman with whom he has an affair”:

… adding, “We find that their love for each other transcends past trangressions and we root for their happiness.” Peary points out that Duvivier’s direction “is the best of his career,” with “his camera… very mobile:

… and some of the finest moments occur[ring] when he moves away from his characters’ faces and focuses on Pepe’s shoes, Gaby’s jewelry, or other props.” He notes that in his “favorite scene the director has Tania (Frehel), a chubby, poor, middle-aged woman, tearfully and beautifully sing along with the moving French torch song.”

What film fanatics will most appreciate about this film, however, is its enormously atmospheric sets and “poetic realism”: one really feels immersed in the stylized universe of the Casbah, and can understand the tensions Pepe faces between staying safely “protected” versus venturing back out into the wider world.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Jean Gabin as Pepe
  • Highly atmospheric cinematography and sets

Must See?
Yes, once, for its historical relevance as a fine example of French poetic realism.

Categories

  • Foreign Gem

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, The / Rebel With a Cause (1962)

Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, The / Rebel With a Cause (1962)

“It pays to play the governor’s game here.”

Synopsis:
A working-class British teenager (Tom Courtenay) serving time in a reformatory is encouraged by its director (Michael Redgrave) to develop his passion for long-distance running, and spends time during his runs reflecting back on the troubled past that led him to his incarceration.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Class Relations
  • Flashback Films
  • Juvenile Delinquents
  • Michael Redgrave Films
  • Tom Courtenay Films
  • Tony Richardson Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary is less than enamored with this “Kitchen Sink Drama” by director Tony Richardson — based on Alan Sillitoe’s short story — which portray’s Courtenay’s Colin Smith as “one of the many angry men of the British working-class cinema of the day.”

Peary points out that we see yet “another bleak view… of British working-class society” in, for instance, Smith’s resentment of “his shrewish mother (Avis Bunnage) frittering away his dead father’s insurance money, then kicking him out until he could contribute some money himself.”


At least in addition to reflecting back on “his dreary home life” and “being beaten by a policeman,” we’re also shown Smith thinking about “his moments of escape with his girlfriend” (Topsy Jane):

With that said, I wish we were given more context about how and why Courtenay turns to a life of petty crime; as Peary writes, “Smith’s reasons for his defiance should be clearer and have to do with his developing an understanding of society and authority.” However, I disagree with Peary’s assertion that “we have to understand better why he relates the governor to his past life” — to me, it’s crystal clear that Redgrave’s “pompous, paternalistic” arrogance epitomizes everything Smith loathes about the unfair class system in Britain.

While this is not a film I relish revisiting — I hadn’t seen it since being introduced to it years ago in a Film Appreciation class in college — I believe it should be viewed once simply for its relevance in cinematic history. Watch for James Fox in his first credited role as Courtenay’s running rival:

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Tom Courtenay as Colin Smith
  • Walter Lassally’s fine location shooting and cinematography

Must See?
Yes, once, for its historical relevance.

Categories

  • Historically Relevant

Links:

Band of Outsiders / Bande à Part (1964)

Band of Outsiders / Bande à Part (1964)

“Arthur said they’d wait for night to do the job, out of respect for second-rate thrillers.”

Synopsis:
When a young woman (Anna Karina) in love with two petty thiefs named Arthur (Claude Brasseur) and Franz (Sami Frey) tells them about a stash of illictly gotten money hidden in her neighbor’s cupboard, the trio begin making plans to steal it.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • French Films
  • Heist
  • Jean-Luc Godard Films
  • Jean-Paul Belmondo Films
  • Love Triangle
  • Thieves and Criminals

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that this “quirky Jean-Luc Godard film is sort of a mix of Breathless (where Belmondo performs crimes in the nonchalant manner he saw in gangster films) and Les Enfants Terribles (where the two males and one female commit petty crimes for fun),” given that “pals Sami Frey and Claude Brasseur play-act crime movies… much as little kids imitate heroes from war or western movies.”

Because “their mutual girlfriend [?!], Anna Karina, wants to fit in,” she “offers a real crime to them: they can steal her aunt’s money” — but “the three bumbling… amateurs… can’t distinguish between fiction and real life.” Peary notes that “when they put on their movie criminal guises, they think of themselves romantically, as do Sissy Spacek and Martin Sheen in Badlands [1973] when they commit equally unromantic crimes; but, as is the case with Spacek and Sheen, their guns shoot real bullets and people get hurt.”

Peary points out that “the overlapping of reel life and ‘real life’… is disorienting because we have a hard time figuring out the logic of the characters’ actions” — however, while he argues this is “excitingly original,” I simply find it frustrating. We know far too little about these three uninteresting characters, other than that Karina’s Odile is for some reason hopelessly insecure (she wears primarily one expression — worried and uncertain — throughout the film):

Sadly, this makes sense on a real-life level, given that according to TCM’s article, “At the time Karina was recovering from losing a child during her pregnancy followed by a suicide attempt… The relationship between Karina and Godard was also on shaky ground by this point in their marriage and they would soon go their separate ways after working together on Alphaville (1965).”

However, it’s frustrating as a viewer watching this beautiful young woman (who has a dark side of her own) caving in time and again to her (occasionally abusive) male partners; they bullishly get their way, but at obvious and inevitable costs. And what, exactly, does Karina see romantically in Brasseur? I understand the notion of a “bad boy” attraction:

… but he’s neither charming nor handsome (rather, he’s oafish and crude). To that end, Jonathan Rosenbaum points out that “The melancholy trio of Jim Jarmusch’s Stranger Than Paradise (1984) … — two dandyish, deadbeat best friends and the shy, younger woman they’re smitten with — would have been inconceivable without Godard’s adorable threesome;” however, I’m not a fan of Jarmusch’s movie, and don’t consider the trio here (or there) to be anything close to “adorable”.

One of this film’s most memorable scenes occurs when Karina, Frey, and Brasseur get up and begin dancing “The Madison” in a line:

Indeed, Quentin Tarantino was smitten enough with this sequence to pay homage to it in Pulp Fiction (1994), when Uma Thurman and John Travolta boogie on the dance floor; but here it’s merely a diversion rather than — as Godard’s somber voiceover claims — an opportune moment to offer “a digression in which to describe our heroes’ feelings.” While most film fanatics will be curious to check out this historically influential film, I don’t consider it one of Godard’s must-see movies.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Raoul Coutard’s cinematography

Must See?
No, though as stated above, most film fanatics will likely be curious to check it out.

Links:

Vivre Sa Vie (A Film in Twelve Episodes) / My Life to Live (1962)

Vivre Sa Vie (A Film in Twelve Episodes) / My Life to Live (1962)

“I think we’re always responsible for our actions. We’re free.”

Synopsis:
After leaving her husband (Andre Labarthe), an aspiring actress (Anna Karina) eventually turns to prostitution to earn a living, working for a pimp (Sady Rebbot) with questionable morals.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Character Studies
  • French Films
  • Jean-Luc Godard Films
  • Prostitutes and Gigolos

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that in his “exceptional fourth film” — after Breathless (1960), Le Petit Soldat (1963) (actually completed in 1960), and A Woman is a Woman (1962) — Jean-Luc Godard presents “Karina’s prostitute,” a woman who “winds up a prostitute in order to pay her rent,” as “detached, not because he doesn’t care about Karina but because his remote style is meant to underscore the fact that this woman makes no emotional connection with the men she has sex with.”

He argues that “Godard’s point — made by the old philosopher (Brice Parapain) with whom Karina converses”:


… “and proven to her by the young client she comes to love… is that pleasure and fulfillment come less from the sexual act than through a stronger form of communication: talking, the interchange of words.” Peary adds that “as in all early Godard films, he experiments with his camera (i.e., juxtaposing abstract and real images in order to express ideas)” and “makes thematic references to films, literature, [and] music.”


While this film isn’t a personal favorite, I appreciate both Godard’s innovative style and Karina’s gripping performance. Even in an elusive role meant to distance us somewhat (Godard’s approach to her prostitution lifestyle is strictly clinical), Karina’s humanity shines through, and she’s a pleasure to watch on screen.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Anna Karina as Nana
  • Raoul Coutard’s cinematography

Must See?
Yes, for Karina’s performance.

Categories

  • Important Director
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Contempt / Mepris, Le (1963)

Contempt / Mepris, Le (1963)

“I have to know why you despise me!”

Synopsis:
An aspiring screenwriter (Michel Piccoli) hired by a crass American producer (Jack Palance) to support an adaptation of “The Odyssey” by director Fritz Lang quickly finds his marriage to his beautiful wife Camille (Brigitte Bardot) on the rocks when he encourages her to take a drive with Palance.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Brigitte Bardot Films
  • French Films
  • Fritz Lang Films
  • Jean-Luc Godard Films
  • Hollywood
  • Jack Palance Films
  • Marital Problems
  • Writers

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary doesn’t write very much in his review of this “slow but beautifully shot and unusually insightful Jean-Luc Godard adult film about movie-making and marriage,” other than noting that “Piccoli and Bardot give fine performances”:

… “as does Fritz Lang (playing himself), the philosophical director of Palance’s travesty.”

Peary does comment that “since The Odyssey is, in part, about a wife, Penelope, who waits 20 years for her husband to return from his journeys, Godard is obviously making a comment on the fickleness of lovers today — particularly women”; however, I think that’s far too reductive of a stance to take. Indeed, I was surprised and impressed by how much subtlety there is in Bardot’s performance and character:

Her Camille is an insecure yet savvy woman who understands that the men around her put value almost exclusively on her beauty and sexual availability, and she refuses to simply play this game without protest.

Visually speaking, the movie is bright and colorful — and as always, Godard makes interesting use of space, unique sets, and montage.

Georges Delerue’s score is also integral to this film; indeed, the orchestral theme song is so instantly recognizable that I was surprised to learn it’s part of the original score for this movie rather than a classical piece.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Brigitte Bardot as Camille
  • Raoul Coutard’s cinematography


  • Georges Delerue’s indelible score

Must See?
Yes, as an intriguing classic.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959)

Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959)

“Why deny the obvious necessity of remembering?”

Synopsis:
While making a film in Hiroshima, a French actress (Emmanuelle Riva) having an affair with a Japanese architect (Eiji Okada) reflects back on her doomed romance with a German soldier (Bernard Fresson) during World War II.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Actors and Actresses
  • Alain Resnais Films
  • Cross-Cultural Romance
  • Flashback Films
  • French Films
  • Mental Breakdown
  • Nuclear Holocaust
  • World War II

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that “Alain Resnais’s complex first feature, a seminal film of the French New Wave, could better be described as a mood piece on love and madness or a visual examination of the subconscious than as a straight narrative; in any case, it invented new ways to tell a story.” He notes that “the film is known for the breakthrough use of the subjective (rather than chronological) order during flashbacks” (though Resnais disliked the use of the term ‘flashbacks’, insisting that memories of the past are part of one’s present reality); “flash cuts from images the character is currently seeing to those past images the character is reminded of”:

… and “parallel montage whereby juxtaposed shots of [Riva’s hometown of] Nevers] and Hiroshima are filmed similarly and at the same speed — so that the unity of past and present (an important theme) is conveyed.” Also unique to this groundbreaking film are “surreal tracking shots of empty Hiroshima”:

… and “the insertion of footage from the Japanese film Hiroshima [1953], with its grisly shots of A-bomb victims.”

However, Peary posits — though I and many others disagree — that “while the film’s technical achievements are vast, there are problems with the central storyline.” He argues that despite “Resnais and Duras den[ying] that they were trying to draw parallels between the Hiroshima holocaust and the tragedy that befell Riva in Nevers at the same time,” they nonetheless “offer as a theme that love will vanquish terrible memories,” “suggesting that the memory of Nevers is as tragic to Riva as the memory of Hiroshima is to Okada but presuming that the Japanese are trying to forget about Hiroshima in order to move forward.”

Frankly, I don’t see any of these ideas playing out in the film. Love is not presented as a way to eradicate terrible memories; rather, sensual connection is shown as a form of visceral engagement with uncomfortable truths. By pointing out parallels between the bombing of Hiroshima and Riva’s past — when the German soldier she was in love with “was killed by a sniper on Liberation Day” and “she had her hair shorn by villagers, and her parents locked her in a cellar,” and “at one point she had a mental breakdown”:

— Resnais and Duras are simply making note of the many (indeed, uncountable) tragedies that befall people across the globe as they go about their daily lives during wartime.

Peary seems to be part of a critical camp asserting that “a major problem” with this film “is that Duras did not know what to do with Okada, or know what he represents,” so “Duras concentrates on Riva and foolishly, and insultingly, ignores Okada’s story.” Peary adds: “That Riva tells [Okada] her past and doesn’t ask him to reciprocate and that he accepts this suggests that Duras regarded the white woman as being more important to the film than her Japanese lover.”

However, we now understand that attempting to represent someone else’s lived experience in art — while occasionally successful — is generally not recommended; rather, one should write about or from one’s own truths, which is exactly what Duras does here, to strong effect.

Since the publication of Peary’s GFTFF in 1986 and 1987, we (film fanatics) have many more resources available to help us understand and contextualize the titles he’s listed and reviewed — including restorative DVDs with commentaries and online analyses and discussions (i.e., through blogs and videos posted on YouTube). This film is, to me, an example of where Peary’s reviews begin to show their age: he was writing at a time when nuclear threat (though still very present and real) was at the forefront of everyone’s minds, and I believe he writes about this film through that Cold War-era lens of (justifiable) paranoia.

What our country did to Hiroshima remains undeniably controversial (to say the very least), and of course a false equivalency should never be made comparing this catastrophic event to one young woman’s shaming at the hands of fellow villagers. But what Resnais seems to be saying here (though he has professed he doesn’t analyze his own films — he simply makes them) is that grief and unspeakable trauma at all levels resonate across geographic, gender-based, and cultural boundaries; only by deeply listening to one another can we begin to process the harm we cause each other — and yes, Okada’s character should be given a chance to make a film from his own unique perspective (it’s a movie I’m sure we’d all be eager to watch).

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Strong performances by the leads
  • Michio Takahasi and Sacha Vierny’s cinematography



  • Marguerite Duras’s screenplay
  • Giovanni Fusco’s score

Must See?
Yes, as a most unique and powerful New Wave film.

Categories

  • Good Show
  • Historically Relevant
  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Women in Love (1969)

Women in Love (1969)

“One has a hankering after a sort of further fellowship.”

Synopsis:
A schoolteacher (Jennie Linden) and her sculptress sister (Glenda Jackson) begin romantic relationships with a school inspector (Alan Bates) and his friend (Oliver Reed), the son of a wealthy mine owner (Alan Webb); meanwhile, Bates and Reed intensify their own bond of male friendship.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Alan Bates Films
  • Glenda Jackson Films
  • Ken Russell Films
  • Oliver Reed Films
  • Romance
  • Sexuality
  • Strong Females

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary argues that Ken Russell’s “visually impressive, sexually explicit adaptation of D.H. Lawrence’s 1920 novel” contains “annoyingly flamboyant” imagery despite “Lawrence’s words [being] graceful and sensual” — but he concedes that Russell “does manage to convey Lawrence’s difficult point about people in a romance pushing and pulling each other and themselves into their correct ‘positions’ in the relationship — just as animals in a jungle form a hierarchy based on predators and prey.” He posits that the “relationship between strong, passionate, cerebral Gudrun [Jackson] and the hard, unloving Gerald [Reed] is about the struggle for power — it is combative and self-destructive and drives them apart.”

“Meanwhile, Ursula [Linden] and Birkin [Bates], who are more romantic and simpler, grow closer together” and “are seemingly the perfect couple because they love each other equally and each has equal standing in the relationship”:

(However, the film’s final scene and image belie this easy interpretation.)

Peary adds that “when the characters make love, especially outdoors, the ‘animal’ analogy is obvious; but it’s interesting to watch how Russell keeps them involved in other physical activities when they’re not having sex — they spend much time dancing:

… they swim, they go sledding, they roll in the snow:

… there is slapping, there is fighting, some men are even knocked down by attack dogs.”

Peary notes that “the performances by the four leads are quite strong… and they are to be commended for appearing in [adult-rated] love scenes when stars of that era were reluctant to do so.” However, he asserts that “from a director’s standpoint, the nude fight scene between Birkin and Gerald:

… and the scene in which the nude Birkin and Ursula run toward each other and Russell turns their images within the frame so that they’re horizontal are shamefully pretentious.”

(The latter might possibly be so, but I disagree about the former, which is a masterfully filmed, oft-discussed and provocative sequence.)

Peary adds that “worse still is Gudrun’s improvisational outdoor dance” — though I’m not exactly sure why he takes issue with it:

In Alternate Oscars, Peary agrees with the Academy in naming Jackson Best Actress of the Year, noting that “Jackson impressed everyone, including [him] in 1970, because she was much different from other leading actresses of the day… [She] came across as extremely intelligent, forceful, defiant, and witty, and could convincingly play women with similar traits without turning off viewers to herself or the characters.” He asserts that while “in the past, viewers rarely warmed to intellectual female characters,” “Jackson showed that brainy women like Gudrun are capable of tremendous passion, even heightened sexuality because of their curiosity.”

He writes that “Jackson gives a bold performance, making no attempt to cover those traits that might diminish Gudrun’s appeal. Apart from barroom floozies in Westerns and B melodramas, Gudrun is one of the few sympathetic female leads with more than a touch of arrogance. She isn’t just highly spirited or headstrong or even aloof — she is arrogant.”

However, Peary asserts that “this doesn’t come aross as meanness… or condescension. It comes across in her refusal to conform or compromise; or — and this drives macho men like Gerald crazy — to reveal her weaknesses or dependence on men.”

While this unusual film isn’t for all tastes, Russell exhibits enough innovation and creativity to recommend it for one-time viewing — and Jackson’s strong performance is indeed worth a watch.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Glenda Jackson as Gudrun
  • Oliver Reed as Gerald Crich
  • Alan Bates as Rupert Birkin
  • Billy Williams’ cinematography

Must See?
Yes, as an unusual outing by a creative director — and for Jackson’s Oscar-winning performance.

Categories

  • Important Director
  • Oscar Winner or Nominee

Links:

Man and a Woman, A (1966)

Man and a Woman, A (1966)

“It’s crazy to refuse happiness.”

Synopsis:
A widowed script-girl (Anouk Aimee) meets a widowed race-car driver (Jean-Louis Trintignant) while they are each picking up their child at a boarding school, and the pair fall in love — but Aimee finds that persistent memories of her beloved dead husband (Pierre Barouh) get in the way of their would-be romance.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Anouk Aimee Films
  • Car Racing
  • Flashback Films
  • French Films
  • Romance
  • Widows and Widowers

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary asserts that Claude Lelouch’s “enormous commercial hit and Oscar’s Best Foreign Film winner” is such a “pretentious, shameless romance” it “makes even simple Love Story seem complex.” He argues that while Aimee and Trintignant would “probably get together in about four seconds,” “Lelouch gets in their way,” forcing them to “flash back to skimpy, wordless scenes featuring their wonderful first spouses.”

He adds that while “Trintignant is a decent actor and Aimee gives a fine, natural performance”:

… “the empty script allows them nothing to do, not even the opportunity for the characters to express their feelings” — though “Lelouch tries to express characters’ moods through his dreamy photography and romantic settings.”

Peary also asks, “Can anyone explain why Lelouch cuts back and forth between color and black-and-white footage,” given that it “has nothing to do with past and present?” However, this has since been answered by Lelouch himself; as DVD Savant clarifies, “Money was the issue when it came time to choose color or black and white – Lelouch needed the color for commercial export purposes, but saved lots of cash by shooting his interiors in b&w.”

I’ll admit to feeling the same way as Peary about this overly slick and shallow audience-pleaser, which is needlessly drawn out through extensive flashbacks, and features far too many shots of characters through rainy windshields. In addition, “the sickeningly sweet saccharine romance score by Frances Lai” — which was “quite popular in 1966” — is guaranteed to become an earbug and never leave your consciousness (that is, if you’ve somehow managed to escape it until now). With that said, it’s all beautifully photographed and sensitively performed by Aimee and Trintignant:

… so it’s easy to see how American audiences at the time would fall for it.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Fine cinematography and location shooting

Must See?
No, though you may be curious to check it out once (but consider yourself forewarned).

Links:

Judex (1963)

Judex (1963)

“I don’t understand what it is that this Judex wants.”

Synopsis:
When her corrupt banker-father (Michel Vitold) is kidnapped by a mysterious caped crusader known as Judex (Channing Pollock), a waifish widow (Edith Scob) enlists the help of a bumbling private detective (Jacques Jouanneau), not realizing that she will soon be kidnapped herself by a woman (Francine Bergé) posing as her daughter’s nanny, who is working in league with her devoted lover and accomplice (Théo Sarapo) to secure Vitold’s riches.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Comics and Comic Strips
  • French Films
  • Georges Franju Films
  • Kidnapping
  • Millionaires
  • Superheroes

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that director “Georges Franju not only wanted to make a feature remake of French master Louis Feuillade’s 1917 serial but to also re-create the fun and excitement present in all of Feuillade’s early serials, including his classic Fantomas.” However, he notes that “while Franju’s film of the caped crusader” — “who has his own unlawful ways of meting out justice” — “also mixes the fantastic with relevant social criticism, it is more poetic, unreal (rather than being surreal), melancholy, subtly humorous, and slowly paced than Feuillade’s work.” He asserts that this “enjoyable film keeps surprising you,” with “most surprising… how little Judex himself accomplishes after his initial rescue of Jacqueline early in the film.”

While Judex “promises to protect her,” “she is kidnapped and would die a couple of times before he reaches her if it weren’t for a couple of fluke happenings (chance plays a major part in this film).” Indeed, it’s really “greedy, cunning, sexy villainness Diane Monti” (Berge) who takes center stage in the storyline:

As Peary writes, “Whether putting on her moral act, plotting a crime while doing a hip-bopping dance with Morales”:

… “checking her looks in the mirror while wearing her habit, stabbing Jacqueline in the back, or coming on to a tied-up Judex”:

… “she has a lot of flair.”

Meanwhile, during a crucial rescue scene, after “Judex daringly climbs the outside of a tall building in order to capture Diane and Favraux” only to be “conked on the head and tied up,” it’s “a woman, Daisy [Sylva Koscina]” — the “circus-performer girlfriend” of Jouanneau — who “just happens along [at the right time] in her circus garb, climbs [a] building, and unties [Judex].”

This is a girl-power film for sure. With that said, fans of Franju’s incomparable Eyes Without a Face (1960) will be disappointed to see that Edith Scob’s character here is neither compelling nor energized:

Again, it’s Berge’s show all the way, and she alone makes it worth a look.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Francine Bergé as Diana
  • Marcel Fredetal’s cinematography

  • Fine sets and costumes

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a one-time look for its historical relevance.

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