David O'ConnellClaude Chabrol (1930-2010)/Les Biches
September 15th 2010 05:29
In the past few days, we lost a cinema giant. Claude Chabrol, credited as one of the founding fathers of the French New Wave in the 1950’s, continued to work tirelessly until his death on Septemer 12th. Best known for his astute, insightful probing into the homicidal leanings of the bourgeois, Chabrol attracted the title of the “French Hitchcock”. He was no poor imitator however, managing to create a style all his own whilst maintaining a prolific output of virtually a film a year.
You can almost be guaranteed of a certain quality in any Chabrol project. Indeed I’m yet to see a film with his name attached that you could rightly label as anything less than entertaining. Gems lay glittering through his body of work, often lingering in the memory long after the closing credits. 1995’s La ceremonie is a personal favourite of mine, with that heavenly pairing of Isabelle Huppert and Sandrine Bonnaire (both of whom worked with the master on numerous occasions).
Chabrol’s career began with Le beau Serge in 1958; his final film Bellamy, released last year, and screening as part of the 2010 French Film Festival in Australia a few months back, was most notable for bringing together - for the very first time - two iconic figures of French cinema – Chabrol and Gerard Depardieu. May this great director rest in peace.
Les Biches
What better way to celebrate the life and art of Chabrol than through a look at one of his most compelling and masterful films. 1968’s Les Biches (The Does) is the mesmerizing study of a strangely sinister love triangle. In Paris, a wealthy, bored 40 year old, Frederique (Stephane Audran), picks up a beautiful young sidewalk artist, Why (Jacqueiline Sassard), takes her to her country villa and throws a lavish party. Here, they meet an architect, Paul (Jean-Louis Trintignant), who initially flirts with Why before having his attention diverted by the instantly jealous Frederique.
The taboo topics of lesbianism and bi-sexuality are chastely handled with a sensuality that never requires explicitness to elucidate them further. A peculiar triangle forms, but really Paul is a static bystander the women revolve around, each striking out with petty, point-earning jabs that aim to unbalance the other's mental state.
These two strikingly beautiful actresses, so often scrutinised in ambiguous close-ups, capture your attention from the opening scene. Sassard’s deadpan style may mask her shortcomings as an actor but there’s a magnetic pull to her suitably detached and enigmatic performance.
The magic of Les Biches is in the sublimation of its juiciest, most suggestive ideas. This is a portrait of a fractured, unraveling mind, but whose mind exactly? For a while, you might infer simpler motives driving the narrative: lust, hedonism, petty jealousy. But Chabrol’s screenplay, co-written with Paul Gegauff, is ultimately concerned with meticulously unraveling the deeper meaning of the women’s connection by degrees.
The score by Pierre Jansen is possibly the finest I’ve heard in a Chabrol film. It probes beneath the surface of scenes in complementing the subtle psychological shifts that take place as Frederique and Why jostle for a stronghold in Paul’s life. Yet they continue externally maintaining the façade of their dark devotion to one another, as if neither has ulterior motives at heart.
The music is unsettling, haunting and reflective of the deep-rooted malevolence that seems certain to expose itself at any moment. It accompanies many wordless, revealing scenes, like when Why is abandoned for a night and begins draping herself in the accoutrements of Frederique’s opulent lifestyle. More tellingly, we later see her languishing in pain outside the bedroom as Frederique and Paul make love, every sound that seeps through to her like a tiny wounding (though for us it's the music alone that tells the tale).
The last half an hour of Les Biches provides unforgettable, spellbinding intrigue. Finally, the film's true psychological imbalance is exposed, culminating in a resolution that chills as much as it confounds. The suggestive duality that rises disturbingly to the surface is reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman’s Persona (1966) with its equally challenging and cryptic symbolism. The brilliant, engrossing third act makes this a perfect starting point for anyone looking for an entry into Chabrol's off-kilter reflection of the world.
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Comment by Matt Shea
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by ShaunK
Screen Adventure
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
Chabrol was indeed a master and some of his films in the 60's and 70's blew me away. I was actually intending to do a tribute to him and Kevin McCarthy this weekend...2 big losses in one week.
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
Chabrol certainly had talent and some exceptional works in his filmography. Some of the stuff in the 60's and 70's is sublime.
Was actually going to do a tribute to him myself and also Kevin Mccarthy....sad week we lost 2 greats.
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by David O'Connell
20/20 Filmsight
Screen Fanatic
Cheers Bryn, he certainly lived a long and productive life. Quite a few of the French masters are still around but they're all on their last legs. None of them have been as prolific as Chabrol though.
Shaun, 80 is a fair innings. This one is in one of the boxsets I mentioned. Thanks for reading mate, head over to Amazon UK and grab a few bargains!
Hey JD, I saw about McCarthy's passing too. Very sad of course, but talk about a fair innings! He certainly lived a long life and will always be remembered for Invasion of the Body Snatchers no doubt.
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
Right Matt,
I'm going to watch the original Piranha film in honour of Mr McCarthy.
I was always intrigued by his close friendship with Montgomery Clift. Not as anything gossipy, just purely that Clift and Kevin rose up together and Clift treated him as an equal.
Here's a cool home movie that Kevin Mccarthy is in with Brando and Clift.