Hardboiled: Three Pulp Thrillers by Alain Corneau – Radiance

Continuing their quest to cast a light on less well-known films and filmmakers, Radiance Films are turning their attention towards the French writer and director Alain Corneau with the release of a boxset entitled Hardboiled: Three Pulp Thrillers by Alain Corneau. I must admit, his is a name I’m not familiar with but I have faith in Radiance’s judgement and the fact the set is focussing on three of the director’s neo-noir thrillers very much appealed to me.

I got hold of a set of screeners and my thoughts follow.

Police Python 357

Director: Alain Corneau
Screenplay: Daniel Boulanger, Alain Corneau
Based on a Novel by: Kenneth Fearing
Starring: Yves Montand, François Périer, Simone Signoret, Stefania Sandrelli, Mathieu Carrière, Vadim Glowna
Country: France, West Germany
Running Time: 126 min
Year: 1976

Police Python 357 (a.k.a. The Case Against Ferro) centres around Inspector Marc Ferrot (Yves Montand), a hardened policeman who’s highly effective at taking down criminals. However, he finds his life spiraling into chaos when his secret lover, Sylvia Leopardi (Stefania Sandrelli), is murdered. The problem is, he’s the prime suspect and, unbeknownst to Ferrot, his superior, Police Commissioner Ganay (François Périer), is the killer and is equally as adept at shifting suspicion away from himself.

The film is loosely based on an American novel called The Big Clock, which had previously been adapted to the screen for the wonderful 1948 film of the same name and would later be used as the basis for the 1987 film No Way Out. It’s been changed quite a lot, including the setting, of course, but there are still traces of the source material in Police Python 357.

I enjoyed Corneau’s film a great deal. The central murder isn’t a mystery, we see it happen, but the central conceit of our protagonist’s boss and friend being the killer still allows for a gripping “how’s he going to get out of it” story, rather than a “whodunnit”.

It has a strong cast too, who are given decent roles to work with. On top of the excellent Yves Montand, you have his real-life wife Simone Signoret playing the wife of Ganay. Her character is particularly interesting, as she is aware of her husband’s infidelities and talks openly about them to him. She also talks Ganay out of confessing to the crime, in a Lady Macbeth-like touch.

Corneau doesn’t rush anything but the film doesn’t feel slow or ponderous. It does feel long, however, and throws in possibly one too many twists and turns by the end. The finale, whilst exciting, also feels out of place and bombastic, on top of tying things up a little too neatly.

Otherwise, this is a first-rate thriller with strong performances and beautiful cinematography. Great use is made of light and shade, shots are carefully framed without looking sterile and there’s also some elegant movement.

So, it’s an expertly crafted psychological crime thriller. It possibly tries to bite off more than it can chew by the end but it’s a gripping ride, nonetheless.

Film:

Serie Noire

Director: Alain Corneau
Screenplay: Georges Perec, Alain Corneau
Based on a Novel by: Jim Thompson
Starring: Patrick Dewaere, Myriam Boyer, Marie Trintignant, Bernard Blier, Jeanne Herviale, Andreas Katsulas
Country: France
Running Time: 116 min
Year: 1979

Several years before making Serie Noire (or Série noire, named after the hugely popular and influential publishing line that put out hard boiled crime fiction in France), Corneau worked with Jim Thompson to adapt his novel ‘Pop. 1280’ to the screen. However, the director claimed he was too inexperienced back then and couldn’t finish it. Later, Bertrand Tavernier approached Corneau to pick the project back up again but instead Tavernier made his own adaptation, entitled Coup de Torchon (a.k.a. Clean Slate).

Still interested in the work of Jim Thompson, Corneau turned to the novel ‘A Hell of a Woman’ for inspiration to make Serie Noire.

The film centres around Franck Pouplier (Patrick Dewaere), a down-on-his-luck door-to-door salesman, who finds himself trapped in a spiral of desperation and violence. He is obsessed with Mona (Marie Trintignant), a teenage prostitute he encounters while trying to sell his wares. Driven by a twisted desire and financial desperation, he’s drawn into a plot to murder Mona’s aunt to steal her small fortune.

However, this only leads to further bloodshed and suffering. As Franck’s mental state deteriorates, he descends into a nightmarish world of crime and delusion, blurring the lines between reality and his own fractured perception.

Serie Noire is an intensely bleak film that retains the stark pessimism of Jim Thompson’s writing possibly more successfully than any film before. Our protagonist is well-meaning and child-like at times but, equally, can be horrifically cruel, particularly as the film moves on and he completely loses his grip on the situation. This, added to some subtle streaks of pitch-black humour, makes for uncomfortable viewing, though you can’t help but watch.

Corneau originally thought about shooting in black and white but realised that might make it look too artful and classy, so instead he decided to use a very sensitive colour film and lit minimally, to give a grungy, natural look, aiding the ugly nature of the subject matter.

They also shot with wireless mics, which wasn’t common in France at the time. This helped avoid the need to post-sync too much of the dialogue, keeping it feeling raw. They also used multiple cameras to lessen the need for multiple takes, which might have made scenes feel more scripted.

Also adding to the strength of the film is a superb central performance from Patrick Dewaere. He helps the potentially despicable character feel relatable in moments and adds great depth in his portrayal. Sadly, Dewaere took his own life only a few years after making the film.

Overall, Serie Noire is a grim tale but a compelling one. It feels like a film noir put through a frank, 70s filter. As such, it played very much to my tastes, despite being a tough watch in places.

Film:

Director: Alain Corneau
Screenplay: Michel Grisolia, Alain Corneau
Starring: Yves Montand, Gérard Depardieu, Catherine Deneuve, Michel Galabru, Gérard Lanvin, Jean-Claude Dauphin, Jean Rougerie, Richard Anconina
Country: France
Running Time: 136 min
Year: 1981

Choice of Arms (a.k.a. Le Choix des armes) presents a tense confrontation between a retired gangster and a volatile escaped criminal. Noël Durieux (Yves Montand), having left his criminal past behind, lives a peaceful life on his large estate with his wife, Nicole (Catherine Deneuve). This tranquility is shattered when Mickey (Gérard Depardieu), a dangerous and unpredictable fugitive, seeks refuge at Noël’s home. The presence of Mickey disrupts Noël’s carefully constructed life, forcing him to confront his past. As Mickey’s actions escalate, including a violent intrusion at Noël’s home, Noël is drawn back into the criminal underworld he sought to escape.

Once again, I found myself deeply impressed by the third film in the set. Choice of Arms is very much a film about contrasts and these are reflected in numerous aspects. Durieux represents the old vision of the ‘gentleman criminal’ whereas Mickey is the wilder, more passionate, modern representation. On top of casting and performance styles that clearly mirror this, when we view Durieux’s life with Nicole, it’s quiet, calm, beautiful and idyllic, shot with grace and care. Mickey’s world, on the other hand, is rough, dirty, frantic, made with a gritty, punchy aesthetic.

It’s an altogether classy affair too, despite these tougher elements. The film was shot in Cinemascope, which was unusual in France at the time. This is put to great use, particularly in the depiction of Durieux and Nicole’s grand estate.

What kept me watching though, through the substantial running time, was the depth of the central characters. Mickey is particularly interesting. At the start, you think he’s just a live-wire, who shoots a cop early on for little reason. However, as the film moves on, you learn more about his life and background, and what drew him to become a criminal. He’s a sad, lonely figure who has love and passion but nobody who reciprocates this. So, this man, who begins the film as a possible villain, in some ways, grows to become more endearing than our supposedly chief protagonist, Durieux.

These strong characters are aided by wonderful performances. It’s an impressive cast, to say the least. Yves Montand is cool and commanding as Durieux, whilst showing great warmth in his scenes with Catherine Deneuve. Gérard Depardieu was notably younger than Montand but had worked like a machine in the couple of decades he’d been in the industry and was coming off the success of The Last Metro (in which he co-starred with Deneuve). He’s superb here as Mickey, capturing the depth of the character alongside his fiery outer persona. Catherine Deneuve is, perhaps, not given as strong a part as her male co-stars but she still brings her A-game.

So, Choice of Arms is an elegantly crafted crime drama that avoids blacks and whites, instead molding layered characters and an emotionally rich story. It’s a little on the long side, perhaps, but it’s worth the extra mileage.

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