Le Samouraï

Le Samouraï
*****/5
Jean-Pierre Melville

*******SPOILERS********

This is certainly one of my favorite films that I have seen this year. Meticulously crafted by Melville to exemplify his concept of the gangster, this film has an amazing sense of depth. The camera work is beyond compare. Watch for the camera as Jef's eyes in the first nightclub scene. Also watch for the continuity of the workman's light in the garage reflecting off Jef's car.

Alain Delon is very powerful in this role, conveying emotions with the slightest flinch of his face (see the 2nd car stealing scene - the disappointment on his face when the first key doesn't work.) He is the very model of Melville's gangster - cool, controlled, wearing a pale raincoat, and having a sixth sense for danger and plots. Beyond this facade, we get a view into Jef's personal life. He has nothing except for a bird, a place to sleep, and the materials to dress a wound. His kitchen is in his bathroom, his drawers are empty. In order to become a staunch contract killer, one must relinquish everything. This is an idea reflected in Melville's Army of Shadows, which I had the pleasure of seeing during its 2006 first American theatrical release. In that film, Mathilde is warned that her connection to her family will be her downfall, and it is. That is another film for review, although, considering how emotional I'm getting just thinking about it, I might not be up to the challenge.

One problem I have with this film is not with the film itself, but how people will describe it. "A hitman, Jef Costello..." "A contract killer..."
The fact that Jef is a contract killer is not something the audience knows for about 30 minutes. He gets out of bed. He puts on his hat. He steals a car. He sets up his alibi. He kills a man. He is seen. He is questioned, questioned, questioned. He is released. He evades the police tail. He goes to an elevated train station. Only at this point do we find out why he even did it. It's part of the genius of the film. Taking tips from Hitchcock (as Melville often did), the film gives us our murderer as our sympathetic character. We know he did it, but we don't know why. Once we find out, it seems so natural - we've seen him try to avoid capture the entire movie. So people don't even remember there was a point at which the audience did not know Jef's nature. It spoils the surprise.

My production teacher, Zoran, gave a talk about Melville's films last year. He made an interesting observation. In Melville, the relationship between the criminal and police is always stronger than the relationships shared with women. It is a much different approach than American pictures. Even in a noir crime film, the man takes the case for the girl.

Another thing that makes this film incredible is its tightness. Every location is revisited, allowing the audience to comfortably observe and be drawn in by the characters, instead of trying to figure out how close this place is to another, etc. The metro chase scene was another revisitation, this time from a film I can't remember the name of. But a man is taking various buses along the countryside, the signposts visible behind him in every shot. The flaw with this is you have to already be familiar with France's geography to understand. Melville learned from this, and in Le Samourai, provides a map. Even the cars that Jef steals are echoed, only the second one is black, indicating that he is without hope. With Melville, nothing is accidental. Zoran points out that Melville often includes a "mark of death" in his films - the point at which the audience can be certain the character will not succeed. After stealing the black car, Jef agrees that he will not come back to the garage anymore. He knows and we know that his time is up. This is precision that one does not find in many other filmmakers' work.

The last thing I will say about Le Samourai (besides WATCH IT) is a comment and theory on the opening shot. The camera is still, distant, and objective as the credits roll over the shot. It is a bedroom. Not until the man in the bed takes a drag on his cigarette do you even notice he was there. You wonder how you could have missed him. The credits end. Suddenly, the camera starts rocking back and forth in a dolly zoom (commonly called the "Psycho Shot", even though it actually was invented for Vertigo). The frame appears to widen and deepen all at once. Then it stops, leaving you with an optical illusion of a stretched room. Then, the man gets off the bed.

Now this is the strangest shot in the film. It doesn't seem to have a clear motivation or explanation. I was thinking about the nature of the dolly zoom. Typically it is employed to be the cinematic equivalent of a sinking feeling in your stomach. In Vertigo, it is used when Scottie looks down the staircase, and becomes terrified at the height. In Jaws, it is used when Chief Brody realizes the entire beach is in immediate danger. Perhaps, in Le Samourai, this shot is the same, although its purpose is obscured by the distant, objective camera. As Jef lays on the bed, he gets a sinking in his stomach. It is his criminal's sixth sense telling him that today something will go wrong.
Just my thoughts on that opening shot.
Although it does pose the question of turning objective and subjective shots into each other. I would say going from subjective to objective is much easier. In Lost, it happens all the time. A character turns his head to see something, cut to a shot that pans to match his head movement and show what he sees, character enters the frame at the end of the pan. It's interesting. It is also done in Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors, which is one of my favorite movies ever. I also saw that in the theater, with a nice new film print.
But how do you go from objective to subjective? I suppose you could move the camera like it's someone walking, but that's awfully corny. Perhaps the realization of subjectivity can come in the following shot, but I feel it would be easy to miss that. (Example: Wide shot down a narrow hallway. Cut to a man looking around the corner of the hallway. Wouldn't it just seem like the shot of the man was a shot of the man? This is an interesting question about film grammar.)

Perhaps I will experiment with this idea a little and see where it takes me.

Recommendations:
Army of Shadows
Le Circe Rouge