The Escapees – Indicator

Director: Jean Rollin
Screenplay: Jacques Ralf
From an original story by: Jean Rollin
Starring: Laurence Dubas, Christiane Coppé, Marianne Valiot (as Marianne Valio), Patrick Perrot, Louise Dhour, Jean-Louis Fortuit, Jean Herel, Brigitte Lahaie
Country: France
Running time: 107 min
Year: 1981
BBFC Certificate: 18

Cult French director Jean Rollin is arguably best remembered for his vampire films which ooze atmosphere, surrealism and eroticism, but that was just the tip of the iceberg for a director who also dabbled in a range of other styles of film, mostly in the horror genre.

The Escapees is one of Rollin’s non-vampire films and a departure from his favoured horror genre. The drama is essentially a road movie which follows two women who escape from a mental institution. The pair, Michèle (Laurence Dubas) and Marie (Christiane Coppé), meet a range of memorable, surreal and strange characters during their dreamlike journey.

The film opens with some beautiful shots of the mental institution, two women looking out of a window eerily, the countryside surrounding it, a woman rocking back and forth on a rocking chair outside the building. We see how horrible the institution – water torture and straitjackets – and it’s easy to see why our two protagonists want to escape.

The two leads Dubas and Coppé are fabulous, they’re essentially tour deforce performances, their emotions ranging from sensitive to terrified and upset and many others in between. The supporting cast is also fine, a range of random characters, from a drummer sat at the side of a road and a traveling troupe “Maurice and his exotic dancers”, to a tarot reader, and a range of despicable men.

The movie is a road trip, our protagonists escaping in search of a better life, encountering interesting characters throughout. Men are frequently lecherous, evil or fear inducing, with the odd exception. It’s a perilous world that our pair escape into and one where it feels as though danger or tragedy is just around the corner.

The visuals are gorgeous, from those opening scenes of the mental institution and its surroundings, to trees silhouetted against the sky. Rollin’s films are always a visual feast and this one is no different. The settings also range from the beautiful – the countryside – to the ugly – a scrapyard, meaning that not only are the images fabulous to look at, they’re never boring either, as the setting frequently changes.

Speaking of beauty, there’s one sequence in particular to reference that looks fantastic and is a marvellous scene – the ice skating sequence. It’s a romantic respite from the world as Marie ice-skates whilst Michèle looks on. Marie hears the adoration of the crowd as if she’s won a contest. We then take a darker turn, as Marie has a terrifying vision and is scared as she recalls her past. It’s an outstanding sequence and one where the pair truly connect.

The music is both creepy and beautiful and is used sparingly, whilst the rest of the soundtrack adds to the atmosphere, from the toot of an owl at night to the sound of the sea in the background during a conversation on a beach.

The Escapees was a lost Rollin film for some time and had a mixed reception, but I felt it was one of his most powerful films, whilst still maintaining the dreamlike quality that permeates through much of his filmography. It starts incredibly strongly, the ice skating sequence is wonderful and the final 20 minutes or so, which feature Rollin favourite Brigitte Lahaie, are excellent as the violence and tragedy that’s been simmering and threatening throughout, finally boils over.

Film:

The Escapees is released on separate 4K and Blu-ray limited edition by Powerhouse Films on their Indicator label on 9th December 2024. I reviewed the Blu-ray edition. The restoration by Powerhouse Films is a revelation and another of their outstanding Rollin presentations. There are two versions of the film. The first, the one I watched in full, is known as Les Échappés, and is the original version, and the longest of the two on the disc at 107 minutes. The finished film was sold to distributor Lee Films Philippe Modica, who changed the title to Les Paumées du petit matin, re-ordering two scenes, cutting one short and adding a brief shot of a seagull. This one runs for a minute less than the other.

INDICATOR LIMITED EDITION BLU-RAY SPECIAL FEATURES

New 4K restoration from the original negative by Powerhouse Films

Two presentations of the film: Les Échappées, Jean Rollin’s original version; and Les Paumées du petit matin, the alternative version with re-ordered scenes

Original mono audio

Audio commentary with film expert Tim Lucas (2024)

One Day in Paris (2008): far-reaching interview with Rollin in which he discusses The Escapees and his other films

Quant à Louise (2024): regular Rollin collaborators Natalie Perrey and Jean-Pierre Bouyxou remember actress Louise Dhour

Previously unseen interview with actor Jean-Loup Phillipe (2024)

Critical appreciation by author and musician Stephen Thrower (2024)

Image gallery: promotional and publicity material, and behind the scenes

New and improved English translation subtitles

Limited edition exclusive 80-page book with a new essay by Lucas Balbo, archival writing on the film by Jean Rollin, an archival interview with the director, an archival interview with composer Philippe D’Aram, a tribute to Rollin by fantastique cinema expert Nicolas Stanzick, and full film credits

Limited edition of 10,000 individually numbered units (6,000 4K UHDs and 4,000 Blu-rays) for the UK and US

The commentary by Tim Lucas is outstanding, packing in so much information, both scene specific and detailed background, into the film’s runtime. Lucas provides readings and interpretations of some of the film’s scenes. His thoughts on locations are particularly insightful, and there’s plenty of details about the cast and crew. Together with the piece by Stephen Thrower, this is the standout extra.

One day in Paris is an excellent archival interview with Rollin which runs for almost 30 minutes. It’s in English and French language and focuses on the film, what led to the movie being made, actors and locations. There’s lots to take away.

The piece on Louise Dhour, who plays Mme Louise in the film, is short at five minutes but touching.

The nine minute archival piece with Jean-Loup Phillipe, who plays Momo, is an interview flanking a reading meaning we don’t get much time to glean a lot, but it’s a welcome inclusion.

Stephen Thrower’s appreciation runs for 35 minutes and is typically rich, detailed authoritative and entertaining. Thrower provides a wealth of insights into Rollin, the film and aspects of its production. He explains the background to the film, its release, the title, its place in Rollin’s filmography and much more. He also talks about the differences between the two versions of the film on the disc. It’s a wonderful piece.

The image gallery contains more than 40 black and white and colour stills, including behind the scenes photos and production stills plus other ephemera.

The booklet runs for 80 pages and is lavishly illustrated. It opens with a new piece by Lucas Balbo which provides a fantastic overview of the making of the film, its release and where it fits in the director’s filmography. This is followed by a brief synopsis for the film from the pressbook, a 1997 interview with Rollin in which he rather unfairly describes the movie as “a bit of a disaster”. Rollin liked the odd scene and the ending, though. A 1973 interview with Rollin follows and gives a lengthy and informative overview of the director, his motivations and his films at that stage of his career. There’s also a poignant tribute to the director from Nicholas Stanzick, a film critic and friend of Rollin. Closing out the booklet is a decent interview with composer Philippe D’Aram.

In closing, The Escapees was a revelation for me, as it had been some time since I had last seen it. It’s very different to many of the better known Rollin films, but the dreamlike, surreal and beautiful quality of his movies is still abundant. I liked it a lot. Fans of the film and director Rollin should be very pleased with the latest in Indicator’s fabulous and lavish limited edition series of his movies. The new transfer is first class and the film is packaged with some excellent new and archival extras, headlined by a fantastic booklet, and the new commentary by Tim Lucas and appreciation by Stephen Thrower. 

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