Masterpiece Memo: L’enfer d’Henri-Georges Clouzot

“You have to see your madness through. You have to take responsibility to the end… I believe there’s a job to do every day and from time to time, ideas do or don’t come. It’s like a seed you plant in the earth. Every day, you water it and whatever grows will grow. And there’s no point pulling the stem to make it grow faster. If you do, you uproot it and that’s that!” – – – Henri-Georges Clouzot

L’enfer d’Henri-Georges Clouzot (Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Inferno) is the apt title for a piece of abstract art, “kinetic art” as the French film-maker himself would have claimed. A 2009 documentary depicting the reels and reels of film left behind, and the story that goes with it, of what is unquestionably tagged the greatest film never made.

Assembled by Serge Bromberg and Ruxandra Medrea, they happened upon Clouzot’s widow Inès, from there it was apparent there was a regretfully unfinished film Inferno, from 1964, which the director believed was his most essential work – and nobody would ever see it. The documentary tells of how this enigmatic non-event warrants the fame and place in cinemas prestigious history. 185 cans of film, consisting of 13 hours of  shot, exposed film. No sound, just images.

With renowned, established greats behind him, L’assassin, Le Corbeau, Quai des Orfèvres, Le salaire de la peur, Les Diaboliques, La Vérité, Clouzot openly suffered from insomnia, with a bout of depression in his history, when started to creative a story that gave physical, visual presence of anxiety and neurosis. Inferno became the obsessive perspective of Marcel, pathologically jealous of his new wife Odette. The script opened with the happy couple but would waste little time in rocking the stability of this fresh relationship.

Following Le mystère Picasso, Clouzot saw a different art form he could be passionate about, and this new wave of creative thinking would aid the development of his new project. Clouzot’s ambitious vision would certainly show in the endless footage of Inferno, so much of which makes it to this illustrious documentary. Unseen rushes of Clouzot and Romy Schneider meeting, hanging out like college kids. Schneider, at 26, was considered a big deal then, not quite 10 years after Sissi in 1955 – the making of her – it was rumored the part of the desirable Odette was written with Schneider in mind.

Marcel’s obsessive jealousy was magnified through such a dynamic use of color, camera framing, dazzling motion tricks, roaming lighting, I mean this is the kind of technical achievements that still knocks you out of your seat today. Inferno was to be a black and white film crammed with a kaleidoscope of emotion-fueled colors. Visions and fantasies, vivid and intoxicating, explode with disorientating colors and light, women appear to wear blue lipstick, the lake inverts to a rich red, . But also, the incomparably radiant Romy Schneider dominates much of the fallacy sequences, revolving glares reveal and hide the contours of her face, glowing tones, the character of Odette licks a front-of-lens water-fall, snippets of arousing caresses, oil-covered flesh, reverse motion of her smoking, plus an immaculately shot of a nude Schneider laying on a track as a train approaches. Words do not do any of this justice.

To state Inferno was a big budget production was only skimming the surface, not an epic film but rather an intricate, super-explorative attempt to feed Clouzot’s unrelenting cinematic eye. That he demanded so much in preparation and execution both emphasized he pure passion and determination, but also shining a light on the difficult working conditions, cast and crew wore down by re-shoots, days and days of shooting, meticulous construction.

Was Clouzot himself obsessive and pathological, like the character of Marcel? Turns out, actor Serge Reggiani (who played Marcel) left the film late into the shoot – he and Clouzot locked horns and only served to build the tension. Clouzot later suffered a heart attack while on location, Schneider herself summarized that this was a turning point that needed to happen to sadly halt the project, his unfinished symphony.

Serge Bromberg and Ruxandra Medrea demonstrate a real, raw pride here in bringing as much of this forgotten dream back to life – clearly they are fans of Clouzot. Accompanying the delicious archive footage of Henri-Georges Clouzot, Romy Schneider and co, the documentarians employ Bérénice Bejo (as Odette) and Jacques Gamblin (Marcel) to read lines of dialogue from Clouzot’s rich, unraveling screenplay. A genius move, able to bring to the screen some of the naturalistic exchanges of pure paranoia. Various V.I.P. interviewees providing much of the first-hand accounts of Clouzot’s journey include Costa-Gavras, Jacques Douy, Inès Clouzot, while Janice Jonesusic’s editing pulls it all together, and Bruno Alexiu’s score fits the era and enigma perfectly.

L’enfer d’Henri-Georges Clouzot is an integral part of not just the history of cinema, but also a prestigious reflection on the modern movie. Documentaries continue to bang down the door, their significance is matched by their stimulation. The beautiful, bewildering, images of Romy Schneider is enough to compel, but the untold story of Clouzot’s Inferno has to be seen in all its glory – the film that was never to be seen by audiences proves to be both a tragedy and a victory for the art of film. A treasure to keep close to your cinematic heart for all time.

 

Masterpiece Memo: Le salaire de la peur (Wages of Fear)

The Fifties, that squeaky-clean decade of that saw the birth of the suburbs, strict morality and, the McCarthy era, also had the misfortune to precede the Sixties and Seventies in film history because the number of industry–challenging styles of storytelling positively exploded in the latter two. Since then, with a couple of major exceptions like All About Eve, Bridge on the River Kwai, etc., we pretty much dismissed the majority of 50s films as anything other than light entertainment. Looking back, the glare from the artistic innovations of the second golden era eclipsed the years immediately prior.

I had seen a crappily clipped cut of Wages of Fear on the Channel 5 Late Night Movie when I was a teenager, but it wasn’t until Criterion released their restored 1999 set did I really see it. It immediately landed on my all-time top ten and has bobbed up and down there ever since. I watch the film about once a year, marveling in its style, subtlety and, most of all, heart.

As a director, here’s a lot going on in Henri-Georges Clouzot’s head, especially when it connects to Georges Arnaud’s 1950 novel. Although fairly apolitical, Clouzot is an acute observer; he knows (and shows) that there’s always a story behind the story. As well, he has an impeccable eye for functional artistry. His rain is wetter, his desert wind, hotter, and his dust, grittier. He reaches a climax with this technique by the end of the film with oil – the visual viscosity will have you wanting an immediate shower.

The same goes for his characters – there are no true heroes or villains, just situations where the chemistry of the moment forces them to assume one role or the other. It’s also notable that his characters do not control what happens to them. They are chaff in the wind, flying this way and that under forces far stronger than their abilities. This is what Pauline Kael called, in her rave review, an “existential thriller”.

On the surface, the story is simple…too simple. An oil company hires some drivers to take supply truck to help extinguish a fire at a remote rig. Very straight forward until Clouzot begins to add the layers, and the first impressive layer is Las Piedras, the most godforsaken remote town you’ll probably ever see on film. Southern Oil Company has the town under it’s thumb, regularly exploiting the locals and expats stranded there, who, quite literally, have nothing to do and no place to go. They surrender to the dust, heated wind, and severe boredom, waiting for any opportunity to change things up or get the hell out.

So who are these ne’er-do-wells that society has seemingly abandoned here? Add another layer – WWII ended less than a decade ago, so the nationality of the main characters is telling: a Corsican (Yves Montand), a Frenchman (Charles Vanel), an Italian (Folco Lulli), and a German (Peter Van Eyck). Although we never learn all the biographical details behind each, Clouzot conveys enough through dialog and body language to show that they each carry a sizable amount of baggage in their lives, including generous reserves of interpersonal resentment and mistrust. Flare-ups are inevitable.

Opportunity knocks at last. The oil company has had a blowout at a remote rig and needs drivers to take supplies there as fast as possible. The next layer, however – the roads are slow, rocky, washboarded and rut–riddled, definitely not scaled for rapid delivery especially when the cargo is nitroglycerine. The slightest jiggle or bump and any trace of you or your truck are obliterated instantly. Naturally, our four expats jump at the opportunity to make an “easy” couple thousand dollars – it’s just driving, after all. They pair off and take the two trucks on the road, thirty minutes apart to prevent losing both trucks should one have a mishap.

The jump from the tedium of town life to the ever-increasing tension on the road is classic suspense – with a capital S. Clouzot achieves this through artful cutting, camera angles and, most effectively, filming scenes at night. Imagine night on a road littered with death traps in the form of small rocks and potholes. The way he shoots these scenes you can almost feel the night heat and smell the fuel exhaust, all the while reading the faces of the increasingly nervous drivers. There are a few classic obstacles – like a dilapidated wooden platform over a chasm that the trucks must use to make one of the many hairpin turns on a ribbon of road clinging to the mountainside. Disaster does occur, but instead of glorious Hollywood pyrotechnics, Clouzot brilliantly telegraphs this with a single match, lit for a cigarette, being extinguished by a puff of wind, part of a shock wave from an explosion.

By the time the final credits roll, we’ve been informed that we are mere cogs in a larger machine. Although the film won the Palmes D’Or at Cannes and the Golden Bear in Berlin and BAFTA’s Best Film awards, the film didn’t do well in the US. Why? This was 50s America – commies were everywhere. Clouzot’s negative portrayal of a large oil company was considered “anti-American.” They were not able to stop the release completely, but did manage to get 21 minutes – twenty-one minutes! – cut in the US print.

There are many film buffs out there who have never had the desire to pick up Wages of Fear, maybe because of its age, subtitles (the film is multi-lingual), or the fact that it is in B&W. I’m telling you now – it is one of the greatest films ever made. It isn’t showy and doesn’t get in your face, it goes directly to your head. A highly recommended watch.

3 Fantastic Henri-Georges Clouzot Films And Where To Find Them

Several people I spoke to very recently were open about not only their lack of knowledge of French film-maker Henri-Georges Clouzot, but also that they had seen hardly any of his films – a couple claimed they had seen zero. What?! To aid those in a similar basket as they follow the latest Directors’ Weekend, here are 3 absolute essentials, all available to stream as follows:

Le salaire de la peur / The Wages of Fear (1953)

Atmospheric from the get-go, the penetrating heat, and then the lure and danger of a big job, The Wages of Fear puts you in harm’s way as the viewer. Not only a dramatic, unforgettable benchmark of cinema, this is one of the greatest movies of all time, period.

Amazon UK

Amazon USA

iTunes

Les diaboliques / Diabolique (1955)

Genuinely calculating, chilling and always compelling, the conspiring thriller is an intelligent, gutsy punch from Clouzot. There’s even a disclosure at the film’s final credits, imploring you not to tell your friends the plot turns here, for you may spoil it. A marvel.

YouTube

Google Play

La Vérité / The Truth (1960)

A finely tuned, impeccable drama, part courtroom, part love story, focusing on the murder trial of Dominique who shoots her lover. The crime itself takes a second gear to the true motive, while movie starlet Brigitte Bardot is incredible here, stealing the show.

MUBI – Free for a limited time

That’s right, it is free on Mubi. You have no excuses. I cannot emphasize the must-see status of these three (and there are several more gems from Clouzot a little trickier to access) – see as many as you can and comment below.

Reading, Writing, Arithmetic #31

The long overdue, and overly neglected, links series on the site returns to pay respect to just some of the fine, informative, intriguing writing on Henri-Georges Clouzot, the French film-maker who is the subject of the Directors Weekend this time around.

Henri-Georges Clouzot On The Criterion Collection

Senses Of Cinema Great Directors: Henri-Georges Clouzot

Noir City Sentinel PDF: Henri-Georges Clouzot

Diabolique Articles On TCM

The Mystery of Picasso: Landmark Film of a Legendary Artist at Work, by Henri-Georges Clouzot

Taste Of Cinema Filmmaker Retrospective: The Suspense Cinema of Henri-Georges Clouzot

Cinema Scope Interview – Heaven and Hell: L’enfer d’ Henri-Georges Clouzot

Festival de Cannes 70: Le salaire de la peur, 1953

A sunny shout-out to 70 winners at the Cannes Film Festival to celebrate the 70th event which is just around the corner – in no particular order.

The effective way the opening scenes of Le salaire de la peur (The Wages of Fear) are shot may well be a great addition to any ‘How To’ educational film book. How To set the scene. How To get the audience attention right away. How To convey piercing heat on film. How To shoot film, period. I guess I am not the only one, too, to make the comparison between the strips of film-noir-like sunlight seeping through onto the shade, and the stripes on Linda’s revealing top. How To read too much into film? I don’t think so. Regardless, this a cracking motion picture by Henri-Georges Clouzot, headed by the not-many-cooler-than Yves Montand as Mario. He is part of an exclusive, but desperate, band of men marooned in a scorching Mexican town tasked with a bumpy journey to aid an American oil company. “Where there’s oil, there’s America”, quips Mario at one point. These misfits, once they do set off on the hazardous roads, are literally living life on the edge. But they need the money. And as far as nervous teeth-gritting is concerned, there is no expense spared. The ‘oh fuck’ ending (cutting back to the original, hot location of safety only to tease us) is one of the biggest sucker punch climaxes in cinematic history. I watched this again just a couple of days ago, and was almost convinced the ending might go a different way – of course, it did not.