088 - Le Samourai, 1967, France. Dir. Jean-Pierre Melville.

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

088 - Le Samourai, 1967, France. Dir. Jean-Pierre Melville.

A movie star versus a classically-trained character actor.

The movie star still.  Silent.  Detached.  Cold.  Doing nothing.  Allowing the light to reflect off his piercing eyes.  Reflect back into the camera.

The eyes are the windows of the soul.  What if you look through the window and see nothing?  Nothing but the deep.  The depths of darkness.  The dark of nothingness.

The character actor active.  Expressive.  Engaged.  Alive.  Walking and talking.  Employing his methods.  Describing his theories.  Working on witnesses.  Copping for a confession.

Jean-Pierre Melville is at the top of his game.

With his fourth crime drama in a row.  A gangster picture.  Suspenseful.  Taut.  A thriller.

Working on the tightest of tightly written scripts.

With every element of production design under complete control.

American film noir repurposed as a French gangster film.

Japanese samurai cinema retold in the life of a French contract killer.

Italian Western remade as a French detective story.

Let us see if we can work our way backwards.

It is 1967.  We are in France.  We are looking at the contemporary city.  We are watching a few days in the life of a loner.  A man detached from his emotions.  Detached from the world.  Willing to kill for no reason other than the money.  He lives frugally.  He rarely speaks.

Three years earlier this idea was made in Italy, as a Western.  In 1964 in Italy Sergio Leone made a Western starring an American television actor named Clint Eastwood, titled A Fistful of Dollars.  It is a few days in the life of a loner.  A man with no name.  Called Joe because he is an American.  Detached from the world.  Willing to kill for no reason other than the money.  He lives frugally.  He rarely speaks.

Three years earlier this idea was made in Japan, as a Samurai picture.  In 1961 in Japan Akira Kurosawa made a Samurai movie starring his great international star Toshiro Mifune, titled Yojimbo.  It is a few days in the life of a loner.  A man with a name.  But called The Samurai.  Detached from the world.  Willing to kill.  He lives frugally.  He rarely speaks.

Nineteen years earlier, in 1942 in America, Frank Tuttle directed a film titled This Gun for Hire about the life of a contract killer.

Six years before that, in 1936 in England, Graham Greene published the novel on which This Gun for Hire was based, a novel entitled This Gun for Sale.

Seven years before that, similar themes were published in America, as hard-boiled detective fiction.  In 1929 in America Dashiell Hammett published a novel titled Red Harvest.  It is a few days in the life of a loner.  A man with no name, called The Continental Op.  Detached from the world.  Accused of killing for no reason, though he does not.  He lives frugally.  He controls his emotions.  He rarely speaks.

Dashiell Hammett also wrote The Maltese Falcon (1930), The Glass Key (1931), and The Thin Man (1932).

His influence on world cinema is large.

We have already stated that Jean-Pierre Melville loved America.  He loved American culture.  He loved American music.  He loved American cars.  He loved American movies.

But he made these American crime movies--which had gone around the world from American crime novels--through England, through Japan, through Italy--not as American but as French.  He made them his own.

Sparse.  Elegant.  Logical.  Pure.

And this one is in color.

Jef Costello sits alone on his bed, in his apartment furnished with almost nothing but a bird.

In a cage in the middle of the floor.

The camera sits still.  We look in the room.  It takes us a moment to realize Jef is on the bed, that he is in the room at all.  He makes the room seem empty when he is in it.

Eventually, he gets up, gets his gun, gets his gloves, puts on his coat, puts on his hat.  He looks in the mirror.  Adjusts his hat.  Slides his index finger and thumb across the brim.  He leaves.

Jef goes to a hotel room.  Men are playing cards.  He greets them.  Says he will play later.  A man tells him to bring cash for when he loses.  Jef says he never loses.  He creates an alibi.  He says he will be back.  He leaves.

Jef goes to Jane's place.  She gets up.  Greets him at the door.  Lets him in.  He coordinates with her.  Concocts a story.  Comes up with the arrival and departure times.  Creates an alibi.

She agrees.  She adjusts the times because her other boyfriend will be arriving.  Jef's departure time will need to coincide with it.  He agrees.  He is not jealous.  He shows no emotion.  He leaves.

Jef arrives at the club.  He leaves his car running.  The pianist is playing.  Smiling.  Always smiling.  He goes backstage.  Down the hall.  Into an office.  A man sits at a desk.  He asks what Jef wants.  Jef answers.  Jef shoots.  He leaves.

The pianist is on a break.  She goes backstage.  She walks down the hall.  Jef enters the hall.  Stops.  They stare.  She sees him.  Gets a good long look at him.  He says nothing.  He walks past her.  He leaves.

He walks through the open stage and dining room of the club, with many eyes upon him.  Many eyes, many witnesses.  Watching him leave.

The police call in the usual suspects.  They will have all night Saturday and all day Sunday to question twenty people per precinct.  They bring in six people from the club as witnesses.  One of them is the pianist.

They go to the hotel room.  Find the card game.  Find Jef.  Check everyone's papers.  Bring Jef in.

Back at the line-up, the six witnesses agree on some people--he is not the one--but are unsure of others.  When they look at Jef, one man remembers and says Yes, but others do not remember sand say Maybe not.  The pianist looks at him squarely.  She remembers.  And knows.  Yes, it is he.  But she shakes her head.  Says no.  Says it with confidence.  Lets him off the hook.

They call in Jef's girlfriend.  She sticks to the story.  Stands firmly.  Gives the alibi. 

They call in the man who went to her apartment after Jef.  A man named Wiener.  Try to test him.  Make Jef switch hats with one man and coats with another.  Wiener says he saw a man there.  Claims he cannot remember details, but points to the hat on one man, the coat on another, and to Jeff's face.

He claims he is not observant, but without intending it, he provides Jef with another failsafe alibi.

The police are forced to let him go.  But the commissioner is smart.  He senses Jeff did it.  He has him followed.  Jef senses it.  Loses them.  Goes to where his hiring contact said to meet him.  The hiring contact betrays him.  Shoots him.  Tries to eliminate him.  But Jef is too good with a gun.  He wounds the other man as the other man wounds him.

Now Jef is on the lamb from both the police and the men who hired him.

What will he do?

He finds the pianist.  Talks to her.  She lets him get in her car.  Takes him to her house.  He asks her why she did not turn him in.  Watch the film to find out her answer.

The police are on his tail.  They find his garbage.  They follow him into the Metro.  They try to bug him.

It is a master game of cat and mouse.  Who will win?

The moral logic of this kind of story tells us that the mercenary, the samurai, the contract killer, the hari-kari must die a ritualistic death in the end.

He is in a sense death-driven.

We shall see.

Will he succeed?  Will he fail?

Will he live?  Will he die?

Will he end up with his girlfriend Jane?  Or with the pianist?

Or alone?

The lone wolf.

The loner.

Or dead?

Watch and see.

And enjoy the journey.