Jusqu'au dernier (1957)
Directed by Pierre Billon

Film Review

An unashamed pastiche of American film noir, Jusqu'au dernier would be easy to overlook were it not for its prestigious cast and a superbly well orchestrated denouement, which is among the best you will find in any French thriller of this era.  Based on a novel by André Duquesne, this was the last full-length film to be directed by Pierre Billon, a generally underrated filmmaker whose early successes were mostly spy thrillers and action films - notably Deuxième bureau (1936) and La Piste du sud (1938).  Billon went on to direct some minor classics of French cinema, including L'Inévitable M. Dubois (1943), L'Homme au chapeau rond (1946) and Ruy Blas (1948), working with such distinguished performers as Raimu and Jean Marais.  Whilst Jusqu'au dernier is by no means Billon's best film, it is a respectable parting shot - a slick, highly entertaining thriller which, in its final cataclysmic moments, powerfully restates the Bard's assertion that there is no worse poison to a man's soul than money.  If you're going to go, go with a bang.

Does it matter that the plot is somewhat mechanical, and that Billon and his co-screenwriter Michel Audiard adhered a little too slavishly to the conventions of American film noir?  Not really.  Not when there are so many juicy performances to savour, supplied by a cast that can hardly fail to excite any French film enthusiast.   Raymond Pellegrin is as well-suited for the role of the ill-fated double dealing hero as Paul Meurisse is for the part of the taciturn hoodlum who is determined to run him to ground - both actors had tremendous versatility but were particularly adept at playing cynically minded heavies.  Pellegrin looks and acts like a Gallic Edward G. Robinson, showing the same qualities of titanium toughness and eggshell fragility (how sad that he should now be best remembered as the voice of Fantômas in a series of  mediocre comedy thrillers in the 1960s).  Meurisse, by contrast, is cool nastiness personified, his villainous portrayals invariably defined by a deficit of humanity and a surfeit of seductive, deadly charm.  The film's other notable villain is a sadistic thug played with relish by Jacques Dufilho, another fine character actor with a very distinguished career ahead of him.  Marcel Mouloudji's short acting career had practically run its course when he appeared in this film, effectively cast as a spineless petty criminal; by this stage, he was better known in France as singer, and with several hit singles under his belt his acting days were well and truly numbered.

Just a few years before she found international fame through Louis Malle's Les Amants (1959) and François Truffaut's Jules et Jim (1962), Jeanne Moreau was, more often than not, cast in the kind of femme fatale supporting role that came her way in Jusqu'au dernier.  Early in Moreau's career, film directors recognised and made full use of the actress's sizzling sex appeal, and Pierre Billon was no exception.  Just as in Touchez pas au grisbi (1954), Moreau's mere presence gives us a heightened awareness of the seediness of the milieu her character inhabits, and you can almost smell the sultry ambiance of deceit, desire, danger and illicit pleasures.  Her character in Jusqu'au dernier looks uncannily like a prototype for Honor Blackman's character in The Avengers - sexy, resourceful and every bit as resilient as the tough male characters who surround her, all of whom fail to bring her to heel.  Interestingly, Moreau's Gina is the only well-rounded and likeable character in the film - she alone is redeemed, by her compassion for others and her unshakable moral position, so it is fitting that she is just about the only person left standing when the credits roll. 

Jusqu'au dernier may not quite match the standard set by the great classics of French film noir - exemplified by Jacques Becker's Touchez pas au grisbi (1954) and Jules Dassin's Du rififi chez les hommes (1955) - but it certainly has a great deal going for, and not just its mouthwatering cast.  Pierre Billon's direction is assured and imaginative, avoiding the unnecessary stylistic excesses of other noir directors, and is at its most inspired in the dramatic set-pieces (a tense barroom shootout near the start of the film and a spectacular finale).  Pierre Petit's cinematography and Georges Van Parys's score both make effective use of the familiar noir motifs, bringing the requisite aura of menace whilst slowly building the tension as the film races towards its shocking (albeit totally predictable) climax.  Michel Audiard's penchant for wit allows for a few unexpected comic jolts, and at times the film does look as if it is about to tumble into outright parody.  Fortunately, it doesn't and the cordite-scented bleakness prevails, the nihilistic conclusion delivering precisely the heart-stopping shock that its authors had intended.  What else would you expect from a film noir?

Film Synopsis

After a successful hold-up, Fernand Bastia betrays his gangster friends and flees with the booty, taking refuge in a travelling circus where his sister Marcella works.  Here, Bastia attracts the attention of a dancer, Gina, who persuades him to elope with her.  Although most of Bastia's gang were killed in a shoot-out with the police, its leader, Riccioni, manages to escape and wastes no time tracking Bastia to his hiding place.  Riccioni gives his former accomplice one day to return the stolen money to him, but Bastia soon discovers that the ticket to the left-luggage office where he deposited the money has disappeared.  Unless he can recover the money, Bastia knows for certain that he is a dead man...