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Film: The Silent World
Year of production: 1956
UK Release date: 23rd May 2011
Distributor: Go Entertain
Certificate: E
Running time: 86 mins
Director: Jacques-Yves Cousteau & Louis Malle
Genre: Documentary
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Italy/France
Language: French
Review by: Rob Ward
Having inspired swathes of oceanographers and documentary makers from Steve Zissou to David Attenborough, Jacques Cousteau was a true trailblazer in the world of underwater filmmaking. And now, more than fifty years after its initial release, this groundbreaking feature is available for home audiences on DVD and Blu-ray. But in the face of modern technology and filming techniques, can Cousteau’s 1954 Oscar winner still hold its own?
Set on board the good ship Calypso, The Silent World follows Cousteau and co-director Louis Malle on their mission to capture the hitherto unseen beauty of the deeps on camera.
Filmed in glorious Technicolor, the film reveals the unseen world and a wealth of life which was brand new to the original audience.
Life on board the boat is both a voyage of discovery and an adventure, as the crew utilise aqualung technology to film deeper than ever before, capturing shark attacks, shipwrecks and a sense of boundless possibility…
The film opens with a stunning descent to the depths, as five bare-chested divers swim through a vivid blue expanse. Each carries a flaming torch, somehow burning despite being submerged. Huge gas plumes rise above them as the commentary announces that "this is a motion-picture studio 65 feet under the sea." It’s an intriguing opening, beautifully framed and impressive so many years after the event – largely because it leaves an audience accustomed to wetsuits and cutting edge diving equipment, wondering how it’s possible to survive and film at such depths with underwater flares and antiquated oxygen tanks.
The divers are compared to spacemen and it’s easy to see why. Their movements are not typically human and their environment is utterly alien. With the seabed illuminated by large floodlights, the blue water is punctuated by corals and crustaceans of bright reds and oranges – a natural contrast to the burning orange flares which previously lit their way. But upon surfacing, the crew become merely human again. And their humanity is in stark contrast to the natural beauty they left below the ocean’s surface.
Cousteau is a bronzed, hard-bodied figure. His leathery skin and lean frame make him look rather like one of the sea-creatures he seeks to film – and he’s seemingly less comfortable on deck than he is underwater. Despite giving a fascinating insight into the cameras and filming apparatus which allowed their early forays beneath the waves, it is the ethical and environmental choices made by Cousteau and his crew which jar with a modern audience.
Despite describing the ‘50s as a “golden age” for underwater exploration, much of Cousteau’s aim in this film seems to be the exploitation of the natural resources. Perhaps hindsight and greater knowledge of the natural world are responsible for the uncomfortable feeling which accompanies watching a man hitching a ride on a turtle or dynamiting a coral reef, but it’s impossible to imagine that someone as well versed in the relationship between mankind and marine life failed to realise how wrong it is to interfere in such a way. And such misgivings are nothing compared to those which accompany the film’s most disturbing scene...
Following a huge pod of sperm whales, the Calypso follows them through the ocean. Sadly, a young calf is pulled under the boat and into its propellers. Bleeding heavily, it is unlikely to survive, so Cousteau makes the decision to pull it alongside the ship and put it out of its misery by shooting it. The water around the ship is red with blood and, predictably, begins to attract sharks. These scavengers of the sea tear the whale to pieces. Whilst this might be difficult for some viewers to watch, it is not nearly as uncomfortable as seeing the Calypso’s crew dragging these sharks onto the boat’s deck and hacking at them with axes and crowbars.
It’s a sickeningly unnecessary display of vengeance. But what are they seeking revenge for? Animals attacking and eating an animal which has already died – and at their hands? Whilst the footage is dramatic, it is utterly contrived and completely barbaric. It serves no purpose, and even their relative lack of knowledge cannot defend them against accusations of opportunism and bloodlust.
Punctuating the documentary are some truly excruciating scenes of ‘faux reality’. Much like those seen in reality TV pap like The Only Way Is Essex, The Silent World features some heightened versions of reality. Rehearsed and acted, these come across as being uncomfortable and unnatural for everyone involved. It’s a shame that the conventions of the time didn’t allow for a more realistic portrayal of everyday events – the watching audience would have been afforded a much more interesting window into the truth of Cousteau’s adventures were it not for these parodies of reality.
There are some wonderful episodes, though. A pod of dolphins is captured playfully swimming alongside the Calypso, and an underwater wreck is explored in exquisite and understated detail. Combined with Cousteau’s infectious (although often misplaced) enthusiasm, this ensures that there is enough of interest here to ensure that it remains a historically and cinematically interesting piece.
The Silent World is little more than a period piece, serving to remind us how far our knowledge and understanding of the natural world has developed in the last half century. Whilst Cousteau shone a light on how fascinating life in the oceans is, he never really illuminated it. That this was due to ignorance or the lack of necessary technology is a moot point: whilst we have the likes of the BBC producing nature programmes like The Blue Planet, we will only ever need to view Jacques Cousteau as relic and a reminder of how far we’ve come. RW
Film: Au Revoir Les Enfants
Release date: 26th March 2007
Certificate: 12
Running time: 104 mins
Director: Louis Malle
Starring: Gaspard Manesse, Raphael Fejtö, Francine Racette, Stanislas Carré de Malberg, Philippe Morier-Genoud
Genre: Drama/War
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: France/West Germany/Italy
Louis Malle contributed hugely to the popularisation of French films in the English-speaking market, and to the rise of American independent film. To this day, fifteen years after his death, he remains a celebrated name in French film. Au Revoir Les Enfants is a semi-autobiographical account from Malle’s childhood, living in an upscale boarding school where Jews were hidden from the German forces.
It is the penultimate winter of World War II. Julien Quentin acts tough, but he’s actually a mother’s boy who regularly wets the bed. He is sent off to boarding school, where he’s being educated by Catholic monks. Unbeknown to him, they are also harbouring a number of Jewish refugees who are using the school to hide from the German occupying forces.
When Julien finds out that the boy sleeping in the next bed over is in fact Jewish, his life becomes more complicated as he struggles to make sense of it all. Despite the alienation and the secret they now share, they forge a friendship that will change him forever…
Malle references the bleakness of the situation, of poverty and despair, in a wartime winter in three ways. It is reflected in the stark, greyish palette of the surroundings: the forbidding stone monastery; the cold light of day; the pallor of the children; the uniformity of their clothing; and the regimental aspect of their sleeping quarters. The minimalist dialogue combines with the realistic acting and excellent direction to form a quiet whole wherein neither actors nor characters overshadow the tale being told. Finally, the lack of music. Except for two scenes, in which characters produce the music themselves, there is no musical score associated with the film. This unusual twist brings the hopelessness of the situation to the fore in an almost subliminally subtle manner. All these elements contrast starkly with the exuberantly relaxed attitudes of the German soldiers, their clear and genuine calm as the face of the destructive force ripping Europe apart.
If you’ve ever read Anne Frank’s diary or listened to the accounts of WWII survivors in Continental Europe, you’ll recognise the hopelessness immediately. Louis Malle, through the eyes of his younger self, has portrayed it with an eerie accuracy not often found in any medium. The awkwardness of the child he was and his subsequent mistakes are crystal-clear to any viewer, and serve to remind us all that the elderly people we pay homage to today were once children just like us, and played their foolish games in rather a more dire environment than we or our children did and do.
Very young actors are all too often tempted to ham it up, and add too much drama to their performances, but the ones in this film manage to avoid that altogether. Whether through sheer talent, an innate understanding of the subject matter, or brilliant direction – or, most likely, a combination of the three – they balance tidily between emulating natural children’s behaviour and nurturing the austerity of the piece, never once falling out of step or pulling the viewer out of the experience and back into today’s world.
One of the most impressive things about this film is that the Germans are not intensely vilified. They make a few appearances during the film, and while they have occasion to be stern and to be hated for what they do, they are clearly human beings living human lives in inhuman times. While their jolly attitudes clash with the sparseness of life as a native French person, they are given a chance to show their kindness and redeem themselves as people, even as their nation towers threateningly over the world and holds its peoples to ransom. This is a welcome departure from most films about World War II, as it adds nuance and maturity to the tired old ‘bad guys versus good guys’ many films resort to.
Malle spent a lot of time and energy recreating not only the story, but also the environment and the general feeling of his childhood. The maturity and depth of this endeavour are astounding. It is, in fact, the casual way in which the characters live alongside tragedy that creates the impact this picture has on its audience. It depicts, with minimal fuss, the way in which humans truly can become accustomed to absolutely anything – and the way even wartime can become commonplace if it carries on long enough.
In short, a thoroughly developed work from one of the celebrated masters, Au Revoir Les Enfants cannot fail to impress. A balanced, mature view of true events with impeccable acting, it is a film that will stay with you long after the credits have rolled up and out of view. EH
Film: Murmur Of The Heart
Running time: 118 mins
Director: Louis Malle
Starring: Lea Massari, Benoît Ferreux, Daniel Gélin, Michael Lonsdale, Ave Ninchi
Genre: Drama
Country: France/Italy/West Germany
Region 1 release.
Louis Malle emerged in the late 1950s New Wave of French cinema, but while his films display many of the defining characteristics of that movement, such as prominent jazz music and a sense of moral ambiguity, there is a degree of classicism and restraint in Malle’s oeuvre which helps define his films against those of his contemporaries. His work is characterised by an understated charm, which is never more evident than in his eighth feature Le souffle au couer (Murmur Of The Heart, 1971), based on his own childhood, and described by the director as “my first film.”
The story, a coming-of-age comedy set in Dijon, France in the early 1950s, comprises a sequence of episodes drawn from the lives of a bourgeois provincial French family, seen through the eyes of the teenaged Laurent Chevalier (Benoît Ferreux), the youngest son of a forbidding, patriarchal gynaecologist (Daniel Gélin) and his beautiful, young Italian wife (Lea Massari).
Initially, in true French style, nothing much happens: Malle sees no need for grand narrative. We see Laurent at home with his family, helping the priest with mass, collecting money for the Red Cross; we see his formative experiences as he attends the Catholic all-boys school; joins in with his brothers’ good-natured ribaldry; and experiences his first kiss with a buxom older girlfriend of one of his siblings during a clandestine wine party, held while his parents are away in Paris.
On returning from Paris, Laurent’s parents are in high spirits, his father displaying a lighter, even amorous sensibility. However, Laurent is already aware that his mother is having an affair; a fact that angers him, but which does not alter his natural affection and sympathy for her. After an episode at a brothel during which his brothers pay for him to lose his virginity to a prostitute, Laurent is diagnosed with the eponymous heart murmur and is taken to a sanatorium to recover, accompanied by his doting mother. As they become closer, their relationship becomes more intimate, and the audience is led gradually towards the controversial and defining moment in the film…
The audience is quickly and cleverly apprised of family relationships during a number of contrasting scenes: those involving Laurent, his mother, the maid, Augusta, and his two elder brothers, which are marked by a sense of chaotic ebullience and matricentric sensuality; and those dominated by the reproachful figure of Laurent’s father, which are generally defined by a feeling of sternness and oppression.
The filial dynamic, which sets the tone of the piece, is skilfully essayed by Malle during a sequence in which Laurent enters the family home to hear his father loudly and aggressively berating a medical secretary for her failings. Ascending the stairs, he encounters the long-suffering maid, Augusta, who affectionately fusses, before entering a bedroom where his mother, in her underwear, absent-mindedly scolds Thomas, one of Laurent’s preternaturally dandyish brothers, about his unpromising exam prospects. Her attention briefly turns to Laurent (“My Renzino”), whom she babies, before she playfully admonishes the third brother, Marc, who is busy urinating in the bathroom sink.
There is a refreshing irreverence about the film: in it, Malle combines morality, humour and sex, setting these themes against a background of art and politics to create the atmosphere of understated yet slightly heightened reality in which the story of Laurent’s sexual awakening unfolds.
Conversations about Jelly Roll Morton, Corneille and Charlie Parker, sit alongside Camus, heresy and the black mass, Tintin, Crevel, and the question of suicide. There is a boisterous and precocious exuberance about the characters’ actions and conversation which is suggestive of worldliness crossed with innocence - a theme which is echoed throughout the piece.
The film is genuinely funny and the fluid, witty naturalism of the dialogue, especially between Laurent, his brothers and their mother, Clara (mesmerizingly played by the Italian actress Lea Massari), is an important comic component. This sense of humour and playfulness allows Malle to present serious issues in a refreshing and original manner.
The moral tone is established early on by a street scene, accompanied by a vibrant jazz score, during which Laurent and a friend collect money for the Red Cross, ostensibly to help the wounded in Indo-China. The activity is actually used as a diversionary tactic in a ruse to steal a Charlie Parker record from a reluctant but benevolent shopkeeper. A sense of ambivalence is formed by the juxtaposition of a comedic, almost slapstick sensibility, with an attendant awareness of the consequences and implications of the characters’ actions. To a certain extent, this sense defines the film, but is never overstated. In fact, one of the delights of Malle’s direction is the lightness of touch he displays when dealing with moral issues. He is content to show the actions of his characters without being tempted to judge. For him, the act of showing is sufficient.
The most famous scene in the film deals with incest and the relationship between Laurent and his mother. The director’s skill in presenting such a controversial issue in an original and understated manner is one of the great achievements of the film. Malle dares to present an act which would usually be treated as an unspeakable sin as one of great love and tenderness - an act of affirmation and joy, which propels Laurent towards personal and sexual liberation. The morning after the event, when Laurent’s father and brothers appear unexpectedly in the room at the sanatorium, the audience draws breath in expectation of a denouement characterised by admonition and reprisal. Instead, in a scene that defines the film, laughter breaks out and spreads infectiously among the family, who are delighted by the sight of Laurent, half clothed, caught red-handed, returning from the triumphant scene of his sexual awakening.
Malle felt that Murmur Of The Heart was his “first happy, optimistic film,” and it is certainly one of his most enjoyable features. The film is a genuinely funny comedy, combining, in a peculiarly Gallic way, high culture, bawdy comedy and moral insight. The director’s lightness of touch when dealing with weighty issues allows for a refreshingly non-judgemental, and, therefore, an unusual presentation of innocence, guilt and morality.
Film: Spirits Of The Dead
Release date: 15th November 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 121 mins
Director: Federico Fellini, Louis Malle, Roger Vadim
Starring: Brigitte Bardot, Alain Delon, Jane Fonda, Terence Stamp, James Robertson Justice
Genre: Horror/Mystery
Studio: Arrow
Format: Blu-ray
Country: France/Italy
Inspired by three short stories by Edgar Allan Poe, Roger Vadim (Barbarella), Louis Malle (Murmur of the Heart) and Federico Fellini (La Dolce Vita) each contribute to this horror omnibus which is available for the first time on Blu-ray.
Roger Vadim follows Barbarella with the first segment in this anthology, with his adaptation of the first of Poe’s published works, Metzengerstein: A Tale In Imitation Of The German. Starring both Jane (then married to Vadim) and Peter Fonda as the evil countess Frederique de Metzengerstein and her rival Baron Wilhelm Berlifitzing respectively. In an act of rage after being spurned by the young Baron, spoiled Frederique burns down his stables, killing him and all but one of his horses. She forms a strange bond with the black stallion after witnessing the same figure being burned out of the large tapestry in her castle, indicating that there is more to the horse than she anticipated.
Louis Malle continues with William Wilson, adapted from the short story of the same name. An Austrian soldier desperately runs through the claustrophobic streets of a 19th century Italian town before seeking refuge in a church. He frantically demands to be seen for confession, and continues to recount all the evils in his life to the bewildered priest. It becomes clear that the soldier, William Wilson (Alain Delon), has been doggedly pursued throughout his life by his doppelganger (Delon again), who is determined to make him see the errors of his ways.
Fellini concludes the trio of stories with Toby Dammit, (very) loosely based on the short story Never Bet The Devil Your Head. Terence Stamp is Toby Dammit, a failing Shakespearean actor, driven to near-madness by alcohol and paranoia who travels to Rome to take part in a film where he will be paid with a new Ferrari. Drunk and delirious, Dammit stumbles around an awards ceremony where he is the guest of honour, before speeding off in his new car. Plagued by visions of a young girl playing with a ball, Dammit approaches a fallen bridge, determined to make the jump across…
The most striking element of this collection is the differing quality of the three films. Metzengerstein is by far the weakest of the three, despite the calibre of the cast. The production values are poor, with many of the costumes being recycled from Barbarella, resulting in medieval sets and a medieval-looking supporting cast working around a scantily clad 21st century astronaut riding around the countryside on her horse. Its Robin Hood meets Flash Gordon, but with an even more nonsensical plot than that allegory suggests. Jane Fonda snarls and pouts impressively enough as the spoiled and selfish countess, but Peter Fonda is criminally underused, with only a few fleeting minutes of screen time.
The rivalry between the two families is barely touched upon, with the baron’s rejection of the sexual advances of the countess providing the basis for her act of revenge (in the original story, both characters are male, and there is a long line of disputes and competition between the warring families which sets up the burning of the stables). This interpretation of the source material brings a strange, obsessive quality to the character of Metzengerstein, which is at odds with her actions. Initially she is headstrong and assertive, but soon becomes completely fixated by the horse who she believes to be the embodiment of the baron - despite their interaction being limited to her flirting with him, and his rejection of her.
Louis Malle fairs slightly better with William Wilson. With a much more interesting plot and a truly unnerving premise, this story is a welcome change of pace after the drawn out trudge through Metzengerstein. Alain Delon is superb as the titular soldier, confessing his sins after being relentlessly pursued by his doppelganger. The game of cat and mouse between the two starts in their school days, with the evil Wilson’s bullying and torture of his classmates attracting the attention of his double, and continues through his time in medical school when he intends to perform a living autopsy on a tied and naked girl before being foiled again.
Poe’s notion of the doppelganger is based on the feeling of unease when one encounters someone with the same name, taking away an element of one’s identity as we lose part of our uniqueness. This sense of the uncanny permeates the film, as the macabre and evil acts of Wilson are infiltrated by his reflection. Whether or not the other William Wilson is merely a projection of his subconscious is open to speculation, as he shows little remorse for his actions.
This segment does suffer from some laughable production errors (breathing corpses and mannequin’s in lieu of stunt doubles being of particular note) which only seem to add to the sense of strangeness and disjointedness that is channelled through Delon’s tormented performance.
Finally, Federico Fellini’s Toby Dammit concludes the anthology. This unique and bizarre short is undoubtedly the highlight of Spirits Of The Dead, and is so superior to the other offerings that it is lauded as Fellini’s hidden masterpiece. Terence Stamp is Dammit, turning in a mesmerizing performance that perfectly mirrors the melancholic, surrealist backdrop of the augmented Rome of the piece. Looking every inch the washed up rock star, Dammit stumbles and staggers his way through the various production meetings and interviews that he is forced to endure, always keeping his eye on the prize of the brand new Ferrari he was promised. He is plagued by visions of a young girl (in the original story, the devil was an old man) who seems to be tempting him towards his downfall. He has literally sold his soul for the fame and fortune that is slowly killing him.
Awash in a sea of flashing paparazzi bulbs and masked, nightmarish passers-by, Toby’s arrival in Rome is particularly unsettling. It is an overwhelming sensory overload which acts as the perfect allegory for the broken, burnt out alcoholic he has become, and the price that he must pay for the notoriety he desired. The breakneck race around the empty city in his newly acquired Ferrari is also a highlight, as his madness and desperation is played out through a first person perspective.
Unfortunately, the weakness of the first entry of this omnibus leaves a sour taste that William Wilson works hard to placate. It is worth staying, however, for the phenomenal Toby Dammit, which is the least faithful to the source material of the three, but somehow remains the most truthful, playing with the themes of the original text while updating them to a more contemporary setting. RB
Trio of supernatural stories based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe and directed by Roger Vadim, Louis Malle and Federico Fellini.
In 'Metzengerstein', Vadim's then-wife Jane Fonda plays a jealous medieval Countess with incestuous feelings for her cousin, played by Peter Fonda. In 'William Wilson', directed by Louis Malle, Bridget Bardot finds herself on the end of a whipping when she loses at cards to a sadistic Austrian officer (Alain Delon). Finally, in Fellini's 'Toby Dammit', Terence Stamp plays a self-obsessed movie star who, while driving home drunk one evening, bets his head that he can survive a deadly accident.
This Blu-ray release features a brand new transfer from a new HD restoration of the original negative; alternative English audio for Metzengerstein and William Wilson, English and Italian audio for Toby Dammit, as well the French dubbed version - brand new English subtitle translation on all versions – and rare Vincent Price voiceover narration used for the US theatrical version.
Packaged with a sixty-page booklet featuring Edgar Allan Poe’s original short stories, ‘Metzengerstein’, ‘William Wilson’ and ‘Never Bet the Devil Your Head’ (Toby Dammit); 'Spirits Of The Dead Revisited' essay by critic and author Tim Lucas; and ‘Literature And Cinema' essay by scholar and author Peter Bondanella on Toby Dammit. There are also re-prints of original lobby cards and posters included.
Film: Spirits Of The Dead
Release date: 15th November 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 121 mins
Director: Federico Fellini, Louis Malle, Roger Vadim
Starring: Brigitte Bardot, Alain Delon, Jane Fonda, Terence Stamp, James Robertson Justice
Genre: Horror/Mystery
Studio: Arrow
Format: Blu-ray
Country: France/Italy
Blu-ray Special Features:
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Original trailer
Film: Lift To The Scaffold
Release date: 26th March 2007
Certificate: PG
Running time: 88 mins
Director: Louis Malle
Starring: Jeanne Moreau, Maurice Ronet, Lino Ventura, Georges Poujouly, Yori Bertin
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: France
There is no such thing as a perfect crime, and even more so in films. That is more or less the theme of the back-and-white French thriller Lift To The Scaffold (aka Ascenseur pour l'échafaud, or Elevator To The Gallows as it is known in USA), shot in 1958. The volatile auteur Louis Malle pits a typically cursed by destiny Parisian couple against the unromantic mischiefs of an elevator. Luck, greediness and Miles Davis’s unflinching trumpet do the rest.
It is hard to describe a plot mainly based on a series of misunderstandings and coincidences. Suffice to say that two secret lovers, Florence Carala (Jean Moreau) and Julien Tavernier (Maurice Ronet), conspire to assassinate the husband of the former, the cynical warmonger Simon Carala. Their plan is simple but ingenious.
Tavernier, a clean-cut veteran of the French Legion, makes his way through Carala’s office from the upper floor and kills him. He has not been seen by anybody. It would have been the perfect crime, had he not forgotten to remove the rope he used to enter the office. That proves to be a crucial mistake, as he gets trapped in the elevator exactly when the building is closed for the weekend. To add insult to injury, his car is being stolen by a vagabond couple hanging around.
That is only the beginning of a series of almost zany misunderstandings that bring Lift To The Scaffold at the crossroads between thriller and black comedy. To begin with, Florence believes that her lover escaped with another woman, as she spots an unknown girl on Tavernier’s cabrio. To make matters worse, the duo who have stolen Tavernier’s car spend the night with a German couple in a hotel in the suburbs of Paris. Failing to steal their car as well, they kill them with Tavernier’s gun! And that is not all…
The scenario itself is a masterpiece, even if its twists might seem to be a bit far-fetched towards the end of the film. Never the interplay between love and death has been interwoven in a more breathtaking web of coincidences, embroidered with black humour, social critique, anti-war cues and sexual innuendo. Particularly the love affair between Carala and Tavernier is a fine example of the short-lived amour fou that Godard would immortalise later in his films. Nevertheless, that is by no means the single feature of the movie that captures the cinephile’s heart.
First of all, Louis Malle had the chance to direct the French star Jean Moreau at the peak of her career, giving bourgeois arrogance a face to remember. Then, there is Malle’s camera itself, following the characters of the film as a secret observer that laughs at their predicaments and startles at their miscarriages. One can already detect there the skills of the dexterous cinematographer Henri Decaë, a later hero of the Nouvelle Vague. Not without a reason, this is the typical movie that makes the audience shout at the screen, as if the characters can hear and reconsider. Above all, Miles Davis’s trumpet solos, recorded especially for the film, capture its idiosyncratic mood with a grade of precision matched only by Bernard Herman’s scores for Alfred Hitchcock’s thrillers.
The film plays wittily with the notion of time, but space does not elude it. It is a claustrophobic sense that dominates most shots, epitomised by the elevator and its role within the plot. Paris, on the other hand, has nothing to do with the grandiose metropolis of wide open avenues that French directors love to depict. On the contrary, it is a misanthropic city that traps and suffocates its denizens by making them face their own passions - most of all lust and greediness. Innocence, even for those who try to escape, is not an option. Thus, redemption can only come through another twist of luck, as nemesis castigating hubris in a Greek tragedy.
The combination of Miles Davis’ ironic music and Louis Malle’s brisk direction make this movie one of the few pieces of continental cinema that exploits cinematic rhythm up to its full extent. At the end of the day, Lift To The Scaffold stays separate from the bulk of mainstream thrillers for its originality and delicacy. Perhaps one may assume that this is the film that Alfred Hitchcock would have shot, had he been French. AK
