Film Review
Louis Daquin's follow-up to his remarkable debut feature, the boldly
realist drama
Nous les gosses
(1941), is an altogether different kind of film - a hauntingly poetic
interpretation of Georges Simenon's crime novel
Le Voyageur de la Toussaint.
Prior to this, there had been eight adaptations of Simenon novels, the
only ones of any real merit being Julien Duvivier's
La Tête d'un homme (1933)
and
Les Inconnus dans la maison
(1942). What sets these two films apart from the others is how
perfectly they capture the distinctive mood of the author's novels,
that indefinable aura of solitude and oppression which is as tangible
as a cold autumn mist, and just as unsettling.
Le Voyageur de la Toussaint has the
same quality, most visibly in the opening sequences which show the
central character setting foot in the fog-shrouded sea town of La
Rochelle. Immediately, we sense the danger that surrounds him, as
a fly might when it becomes snared by a spider's web.
Although Daquin proved himself to be a very versatile filmmaker, his
reputation today rests on a handful of socially conscious dramas, in
particular his 1949 film
Le Point du
jour, a scathing critique of the conditions under which miners
had to work at the time. Daquin began his career by working as an
assistant to Marcel Lherbier (on
Feu Mathias Pascal) and Jean
Grémillon (on
Gueule d'amour and
L'Étrange Monsieur Victor),
whose realist influence can be seen in the films he would go on to
direct. A militant communist, Daquin seldom kept his politics out
of his films, and this would ultimately be his undoing, as his views
were not always appreciated by the cinema-going public. During
the Occupation (1940-1944), Daquin was active in the French Resistance
and it is tempting to read an anti-Nazi or anti-Pétainist
subtext into his films, especially
Le
Voyageur de la Toussaint, the darkest film he made during this
period. The mysterious syndicate which appears to have complete
control of the town, and whose members all have shady pasts, has a
collaborationist stench about it, whilst the family, a key pillar of
Maréchal Pétain's idea of patriotism, is portrayed as a
rotten fruit, with its misguided loyalties and deadly rivalries.
The film's darker purpose (i.e. commentary on the Occupation) is
further emphasised by its moody, high-contrast lighting and exaggerated
use of low camera angles, film noir touches that bring an unremitting
aura of menace.
A Franco-Italian co-production, the film benefited from having a
substantial budget which is reflected in its prestigious cast.
The charismatic Italian actress Assia Noris is an admirable choice for
the lead female role, supported by three of France's most distinguished
character actors: Jules Berry, Gabrielle Dorziat and Guillaume de
Sax. Although he is best known for his outright villainous
portrayals, such as the ghastly capitalist Batala in Jean Renoir's
Le Crime de Monsieur Lange
(1936), Berry is at his best when he is cast in more ambiguous roles,
such as the one he plays here, with a nauseating mix of charm,
deviousness and forced bonhomie. Dorziat's forbidding matron-like
presence makes her ideal for the part of Madame Éloi, a darker
(and deadlier) version of the character Aunt Léo she played so
memorably in Jean Cocteau's
Les Parents terribles (1948).
Making his screen debut (in the principal male role) is a rather
dashing Jean Desailly, an actor who would feature prominently in French
films of the 1940s and 50s, although he is best remembered today for
his role in François Truffaut's
La
Peau douce (1964). Another comparative newcomer who
can hardly fail to make an impact is Serge Reggiani - he would become
an even bigger star than Desailly, although he had far more success as
a singer than as an actor. With his rugged looks and overpowering
charisma, Reggiani was perfect for the part of the young tearaway Bob
Éloi, and his presence gives the film a startling modernity.
Whilst
Le Voyageur de la Toussaint
is far from being Louis Daquin's most inspired film it is
unquestionably one of the best adaptations of a Georges Simenon
novel. Not only does it faithfully render the mood of Simenon's
unmistakably bleak world, it also seems to convey something of those
long, dark years of Occupation - the habitual mistrust of others, the
fear of betrayal, the longing for escape. In 1943, when the film was
first released, the mood in France could not have been grimmer, so its
upbeat ending must have brought some consolation, just when it was
needed most. You can imagine Daquin standing behind the camera,
urging his audience not to give up hope. It is always darkest
before the dawn...
© James Travers 2013
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
After the death of his parents, Gilles Mauvoisin returns to his
hometown of La Rochelle. On his arrival, he is surprised to learn
that his uncle, the successful businessman Octave Mauvoisin, has
recently died and left him his entire fortune. Under the terms of
Mauvoisin's will, Gilles must allow his young widow, Colette, to
continue living in his house and should try to find the combination to
a safe which contains a valuable prize. Gilles has barely settled
into his new life when he begins to feel threatened by several of his
uncle's former business associates, members of a mysterious
syndicate. He then learns that his aunt Colette has been having
an affair with a married man, Dr Sauvaget. When the latter's wife
dies, having been poisoned, Colette is immediately suspected of having
murdered her husband. Mauvoisin's body is exhumed and found to
contain traces of poison. With his aunt in prison awaiting trial
for murder, Gilles begins his own investigation and discovers far more
than he had bargained for...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.