Masques (1987)
Directed by Claude Chabrol

Film Review

The marked discrepancy that exists between seemingly benign surface impressions and more sordid inner truths is the one unifying theme in the work of Claude Chabrol, one of France's most prolific and revered filmmakers.  In his early films, Chabrol's principal target was the sickeningly complacent bourgeoisie, whom the director regarded as a corrupting parasite at the heart of
French society, the maggot at the core of a sickly apple.  The double standards and self-serving hypocrisies of the bourgeois set provided Chabrol with a rich satirical vein for many years and inspired some of his best films, most notably in Les Biches (1968), La Femme infidèle (1969) and Juste avant la nuit (1971).  In Masques, Chabrol has another equally deserving specimen of contempt in his sights: the adored television celebrity.

Chabrol's relationship with cinema's bastard offspring is a somewhat ambivalent one.  Although the filmmaker made no secret of his dissatisfaction with the medium, he frequently lent his services to French television, his contributions including two memorable small screen outings for his unconventional detective Inspector Lavardin.  The idea that a popular TV personality could have a dual identity - outwardly a genial personality of impeccable morals that the unwashed masses cannot resist taking to their hearts, inwardly an utterly depraved object of contempt wallowing in bitter misanthropy - was one that Chabrol explores with his customary blend of warped sarcasm and sardonic humour in Masques.  He would retread the same ground in his subsequent crime drama Au coeur du mensonge (1999), with real-life celebrity Antoine de Caunes drafted in as a gruesome parody of himself.

Philippe Noiret may not have belonged to the class of self-adoring TV stars that Masques takes such a savage delight in mocking, but, as a screen actor of the first rank, he certainly deserves the epithet 'national treasure' that our present society deems to be the highest accolade one can aspire to.  Hard to believe, but this was Noiret's first collaboration with Claude Chabrol, and you can scarcely imagine an actor better suited for the role of the despicably duplicitous Christian Legagneur, a wolf in sheep's clothing if ever there was one.  Noiret had a special genius for playing morally ambiguous, superficially likable creatures of this kind, but here, with the help of a well-crafted script that offers plenty of character depth and nuance, he is in his element.  Like a fine wine of a particularly good vintage, it is a performance to savour.

For most of the film, Noiret's hyper-charismatic character does a good job of persuading us that he is a good egg, the affable host who bristles with bonhomie and charm.  Only in a few brief scenes do we get a chance to see through the carefully constructed mask and catch sight of the monster beneath.  When the mask finally comes crashing to the ground in the film's tragicomic ending do we see Legagneur's real identity - a self-loving misanthrope whose sole raison d'être is the acquisition of wealth.  In those mischievously damning eyes of Claude Chabrol, TV stars are nothing more than cynically motivated career prostitutes - who knows what store of contempt and malevolence lie under the forced synthetic charm, the glib platitudes and the ever-ready Colegate smile?  Since Chabrol made this film back in the late 1980s his thesis has been amply borne out, with more than a few over-venerated TV saints knocked from their pedestals after revelations of their private misdemeanours became headline news.

Masques allows Philippe Noiret to turn in a tour de force character study that easily rates as one of his most compelling and fascinating, but his is not the only great performance.  Co-stars Robin Renucci and Anne Brochet also make their presence felt as they enact a typically twisted Chabrolian take on the classic fairy tale Sleeping Beauty.  What makes Renucci's character (Wolf by name, as opposed to Noiret's, who is wolf by nature) so interesting is that he is the mirror image of Legagneur - an unassuming nonentity who is forced to adopt a false identity in order to expose his adversary's own fraud.  The friendly nonchalance that the TV star puts on during their daytime encounters is overtly belied by the contained antagonism that surfaces in the course of their evening intellectual tussles over the chessboard.  For all their shows of mutual courtesy, we have no doubt that these are two masked knights locked in mortal combat.  Does black have the advantage, we wonder.

The game playing and subtle deceptions are not confined to the two male protagonists.  It seems that almost every character in the film is hiding behind a false persona, either unwilling or unable to show their true identity and motives.  Even Anne Brochet's Catherine, the most innocent and passive character in the ensemble, is ultimately forced into slipping on a mask to conceal her plan of evasion.  Her attempt at dissemblance proves to be worse than futile and merely forces her enemy to resort to desperate, even homicidal, measures to protect himself.  Then there is Legagneur's masseuse Patricia, a made-to-measure role for the director's long-term associate Bernadette Lafont (who featured in his first feature, Le Beau Serge, 1958).  Looking amusingly like a parody of the vivacious man-eater roles that Lafont revelled in early in her career, Patricia is a vulgar adornment to the Legagneur household which allows the TV star to keep his mask of pleb-loving magnanimity in place.  In fact, Patricia is herself putting on an act and turns out to be neither as stupid or vacuous as we had supposed.  Her dual nature is reflected in the other servants, whose placid exteriors disguise a sadistic venality which Legagneur can readily exploit for his own purposes.

It is the curse of Narcissus that proves to be the TV host's undoing in the end.  Legangeur is so preoccupied with keeping his own mask in place - you soon lose track of how often he is seen gazing at himself in the mirror and on the television screen - that he fails to see through the masks of others, and this omission is what ultimately destroys him.  The film's delicious irony is that the celebrity's sudden fall from grace provides him with the most glorious exhibition of cathartic self-indulgence a self-regarding fiend of his ilk could ask for.  Having his mask torn from him is a wondrous moment of release, allowing the pathologically resentful TV star to show his true colours and tell his adoring public exactly what he thinks of them - with a fierce barrage of toxic vitriol.  Even in defeat, Legagneur fails to acknowledge himself as he really is, Le Loser.

Film Synopsis

Christian Legagneur is one of France's best-loved TV personalities, the genial host of a popular talent show in which the over-sixties compete for big prizes by crooning sentimental songs of yesteryear.  Never one to turn down the opportunity to bolster his celebrity he willingly accepts an invitation by an unknown writer, Roland Wolf, to pen his autobiography.  Taking advantage of a short break in his busy production schedule, Legagneur invites the likeable young writer to his large house in the country, where he lives in seclusion with an entourage of obedient servants that include his chauffeur Max and personal masseuse Patricia.  Confined for most of the time to her bedroom is his goddaughter Catherine, a sickly girl in her early twenties who is awkward in the company of others and can barely tolerate sunlight.

Little does the television star know that his amiable guest is not what he pretends to be.  Wolf's motive for inveigling his way into Legagneur's confidence is not to write a book about him, but rather to give him the means of investigating the mysterious disappearance of his younger sister, Madeleine.  An obsessive fan of the TV host, Wolf's sister sought his acquaintance in the hope that he would provide her with help in launching her own career as an actress.  To that end, she befriended his goddaughter and stayed at their house for three months, before suddenly going off without informing anyone as to her whereabouts.

Wolf's conviction that Legagneur knows more about Madeleine's departure than he admits is rewarded when he finds objects belonging to her and hears Patricia's version of events.  By now his concern over Catherine's state of health has turned to love and as the young woman begins to reciprocate his feelings for her she shows a regained vitality.  It is with horror that Wolf discovers Legagneur's motive for taking Catherine under his wing.  After the death of her parents in a tragic accident, he helped himself to her ample inheritance and now has every reason for murdering his goddaughter.  Anticipating his host's next move, Wolf plans to elope with Catherine, but as in their games of chess his opponent is one step ahead of him...