This is the least compelling film of Jean-Pierre Melville’s that I’ve seen, and certainly the least effective of his literary adaptations. The central problem is that Melville is overwhelmed by Cocteau, in the same way that the soundtrack is overburdened by Cocteau’s voiceover narration; Cocteau’s protégé Edouard Dhermite is woefully miscast (far too old for those schoolboy shorts); and Nicole Stéphane verges on the unbearably histrionic. For all the great visual ideas there are as many awful ones (some strange, ugly low-angle closeups), and the few outdoor exteriors only underline the word-heavy ponderousness of the studio-set scenes.
by Ian Johnston | Source: BFI DVD
28 Oct 2007 1:54 PM | Submit Comment
