Le Bossu (1944)
Directed by Jean Delannoy

Film Review

Of the dozen or so screen adaptations of Paul Féval's famous novel Le Bossu, only two really do justice to the literary source - André Hunebelle's 1960 version (which paired Jean Marais with Bourvil) and Philippe de Broca's even feistier 1997 version, starring Daniel Auteuil and Fabrice Luchini.  The version that Jean Delannoy directed in 1944 is all but forgotten, and rightly so, partly because of its lacklustre cast (Pierre Blanchar is hopelessly miscast as the swordmaster Lagardère) but mainly because Delannoy couldn't direct a swashbuckler if his life, indeed the lives of everyone in France, depended on it.  Voilà la preuve.

The only kind of film that Jean Delannoy could capably direct was the contemporary melodrama.  His period dramas are, by and large, airless, stilted affairs that lack depth and emotional power, and Le Bossu exemplifies this in spades.  Whilst the film has some artistic merit - the sets and costumes are authentic, the lighting is beautifully atmospheric - its poor pacing, weak characterisation and ineptly choreographed action scenes make it unutterably dull and amateurish.  Fine actor though he was, Blanchar shows no real enthusiasm for the part of Lagardère and would be indistinguishable from a mummified corpse if he were placed next to Jean Marais.  Paul Bernard is far more impressive as the villainous Philippe de Gonzague, lighting up the film in a way that Blanchar singularly fails to do whenever he enters the frame.  Pedestrian and plodding from start to finish, Delannoy's Le Bossu deserves to be forgotten.

Film Synopsis

France, 1699.  Philippe de Gonzague kills the Duke of Nevers in the hope of stealing both his wife and his fortune.  Having failed to save the Duke's life, the swordmaster Henri de Lagardère flees to Spain with his infant daughter Aurore, swearing that one day he will have his revenge.  Years later, Aurore is a grown woman and Lagardère is ready to put his plan into action.  Disguising himself as a hunchback, he contrives to expose Philippe de Gonzague's crimes and exact a fitting retribution...