Friday, March 3, 2017

062 - The Human Beast (La Bete Humaine), 1938, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Friday, March 3, 2017

062 - The Human Beast (La Bete Humaine), 1938, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

That is the sound of the train.

The furnace screams.

It is piercing.

Chugga chugga chugga chugga, chugga chugga chugga chugga .

We are travelling mighty fast.  Racing.  At a torrid clip.

The camera is attached to the outside of the locomotive.  On the upper-left side.

We enter the tunnel with nearly no clearance.

We speed through like there is no tomorrow.

For some there will not be.

Jacques Lantier is the engineer.  Pecqueux is his assistant.

They are good at what they do.  In soot-grimed faces and goggles, they work the rails with streamlined effortlessness.

They are riding Lison. 

Lantier has named his train.  She is his mistress.

It is better for him to have a train than a woman, because, well, Lantier is a stand-up guy, a good guy, the kind of guy that everyone likes and wants to spend time with . . .

It's just that he has this thing.

A Jeckyll-and-Hyde kind of thing.

When he gets turned on by a woman he seems to enter into some kind of fog.  He takes on a new personality.  He is not quite himself.  He might do something he will later regret.

He knows it.

So he keeps his distance.

So throughout the movie he is a great guy.  And we all like him and cheer for him.  And want to be like him.

Until . . .

The train stops a Le Havre.  A station in the town of the same name.  In Normandy.  In northern France.  Where the Seine river empties into the English channel.  Le Havre means "the harbor."  The Seine flows north.

A river appears in a Jean Renoir movie.

Lantier will go to that river.

The axle box has overheated.

It will take thirty-six hours to repair.

Lantier and Pecqueux will have to stay over.

And that will change everything.

A woman complains to the stationmaster.  Roubaud is his name.

A man had a dog aboard the train.  The stationmaster confronts the man.  The man is insulted.  Do you know who I am?  I do not care who you are.  Our rules apply to everyone equally.

He is an important man.  He aims to take Roubaud's job away from him.

Roubaud enters his apartment.  Anxiety-laden.  He just happens to have a young and beautiful wife.  A wife who looks like a movie star.  Severine.  Played by the great Simone Simon.  She is sitting by the window.  Waiting for him.  As though waiting for a camera to capture her radiance.

She greets him.

So what is the problem?

He tells her his concern.

She just happens to have a godfather, Grandmorin, who is richer and more powerful than the man Roubaud insulted.  She will talk to him.  He will help them.

She talks to her godfather.

The godfather takes care of it.

But somehow in the ensuing conversation Roubaud discovers that her ring came from Grandmorin and not her grandmother, as she has always claimed.  That Grandmorin was more than a godfather.  More like a sugar daddy.  That she knew him in another way.  Starting when she was sixteen.

Roubaud explodes into a jealous rage.

As far as we know, Severine's past is in the past.  As far as we know, she loves her husband.  He has no need to worry.  Why be jealous of the past?

He confronts her.  Aggressively.  Verbally.  Physically.  Tyrannically.

And he concocts a scheme whereby they together will take care of Grandmorin.  Once.  And for all.

He makes her write a letter.  She will meet him on the train.  Grandmorin responds to the letter.  He boards the train to meet her.  She is there with Roubaud.  Hiding in their compartment.  They go to Grandmorin's compartment.  Roubaud takes care of Grandmorin.  Once.  And for all.

But our boy is aboard the train.  And that will change everything.

Our boy Jacques Lantier.  On his day off.  Now in a casual suit instead of coveralls.  With no soot-grimed, begoggled face but dapper in his working class manner.

He stands in the corridor.

Rubbing his eyes.

He has something in his eye.

Did he see them?

Did they get away with it or is he a witness?

She goes to him.  Sidles up to him.  Glances askance at him.  Pouts in his direction.

She will work this man.

Hello.

He does not seem to respond.  He's got that eye thing going on.  She goes back into the compartment with her husband.

Now an accomplice.

They find the body.  They interview the passengers.  They interview Lantier.

He looks at Severine.  Looks at Roubaud.

Did you see anything?

He pauses.

Anyone?

No.

He keeps their secret.

Back at the apartment--

Roubaud has stolen money.  If you are going to kill a man, why not take his cash?  And his gold watch?  He hides it in the floorboards.  She calls him a thief.  She wants nothing to do with him now.

He has squeezed her right out of his arms.  In his green-eyed grasping efforts to keep his wife all to himself he has lost her forever. 

He knows it.  He will turn to gambling.  He will turn to drink.

This man who seemed so good just a little bit ago.

She goes to Lantier.  Meets him in a garden.  She wants to be sure.

Did you see us?  Yes.

Did you know we did it?  Yes.

Why did you not say anything?  You asked me not to.

But I didn't.  You didn't ask with your words; you asked with your eyes.

Well, then.

He did see her eyes through his rubbing eyes.  And he sees her now.

Jacques and Severine start a-courting.  And their whirlwind romance is wonderful and glorious.  This is, after all, a French film.  On the Seine River.

But then there's that husband thing.  We could live happily ever after, if only . . .

Some people call this movie a precursor to film noirDouble IndemnityThe Postman Always Rings Twice.  Take care of the husband.  Start a new life.

Jacques will not do it.  Cannot do it.  He is a stand-up guy, a good guy, the kind of guy that everyone likes and wants to spend time with.

It's just that he has this thing.

A Jeckyll-and-Hyde kind of thing.

And he knows it.

Unfortunately, he forgets.

He should have stuck with the train.

Lison.

The train leaves Le Havre and races like there is no tomorrow.

For some, there isn't.

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