Jean-Pierre Melville, 1970
Even if he'd never gotten behind a camera, you'd have to love Melville for his cameo as the celebrated author in Breathless. It's such a delicious confection of pomposity. But thankfully he did get behind the camera, and gave us wonderful movies like this one.
My very first thought on seeing this film was that it seems cruel to give Alain Delon that bushy mustache and those big bags under his eyes. But then I realized it served a purpose: everything you need to know about five long years in prison you know from that mustache. Delon gives something different here than he did in Le samouraï, he's softer, more vulnerable, but only just.
If you've seen Le samouraï (and, really, if you haven't, what are you waiting for?) you're ready to be fully immersed in the Melville milieu. (Bob le flambeur bears similarities, but the black and white ultimately renders it a different animal.) Steely, muted palette, lots of deadpan cool, and a sophisticated but sparse visual economy. He's also got a penchant for shiny nightclubs and drool-worthy interiors -- there's some striped wallpaper in this one that's absolutely to die for.
It occurred to me while watching this -- and I don't even know why, to be honest -- that Melville trades in very obvious masculinist pleasures, namely the camaraderie of the criminal underworld. Don't groan -- this chick ain't gonna rain on your parade -- I confess myself to be completely susceptible to such pleasures and found myself utterly charmed by them here.
In Cercle, Melville combines two elements that practically guarantee audience goodwill and excitement: the escaped convict narrative and the heist. But even if a lot of the suspense is built in, you still have to do the work, and Melville negotiates the line between setting you up for what's coming and delivering surprises quite effectively. He takes a streamlined, no-nonsense approach to camera movement that helps drive the narrative forward. There's this very particular logic to heist scenes -- you have to make the plans elaborate and fiddly enough that they drive the audience crazy and make you want to scream "Just grab the fucking diamonds already!" The details here aren't Ocean's-level flashy, but they're quite fun and get the job done.
Melville has a wonderful eye for faces; it's almost an embarrassment of riches here. Andre Bourvil has a beautifully clear-eyed and forthright quality -- not to mention a terrific beak -- that makes for a cop you can like and respect even if you're rooting for the bad guys. I don't think I'd ever seen the lovely Yves Montand on screen before, he reminded me (somewhat perversely, as he is the antecedent) of a Gallic John Hurt, hangdog, haunted, and deeply, poetically sad, yet somehow elegant at the same time. And I was struck again by François Périer, who played the cop in Le samouraï, on the other side of the law here, but displaying the same essential quality of wry self-possession.
What ultimately impressed me with Cercle was how engrossed I was, not just on an adrenaline-seeking level but also emotionally. Beneath all the slick cool it's an intensely satisfying film, proving you can deliver both style and substance.
So in my IMDb browsings I found that John Hillcoat has been "approached' to remake this. It's hard for me to see how they won't bog it down with too many gadgets and special effects. Has anybody seen The Road? Reckon he's up to it?
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