Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The Finger Man

by Ari

Everyone knows the French labeled a particular style of filmmaking as “film noir” - the dark, gritty movement of complex, tragic characters caught in webs of intrigue, paranoia, romance, crime and various other dangerous habits; people tormented by alienation and loneliness who dwell in places dimly lit and obscured by shadows and darkness. It was a style born and perfected in the ‘40s and ‘50s, influenced by foreign filmmakers and experimented with in countless movies (or neo-noir) since. It’s no surprise that influential French master Jean-Pierre Melville took film noir to its zenith in the early 1960’s with Le Doulos, only a few years after the movement could be carefully studied by writers, directors and critics alike.

Jean Pierre Melville’s masterwork can be seen as a direct response to a particular convention associated with traditional American noir: the anti-hero who creates his own demise by taking a crucial misstep, perhaps because of a woman, perhaps because of money, perhaps because of his own self-destructive nature. We’ve seen it countless times, from Double Indemnity to Out of the Past. It’s almost a given that something terrible will happen when you’re dealing with the realm of noir, especially in its golden era. The dark tones and disturbing themes call for some inevitable catastrophe, as though the style was tailor-made for tragedy.

The masterstroke of Melville’s Le Doulos is how the film flips the concept of the tragic ant-hero on its head. The central manipulator of the story is a character named Silien (Jean Paul Belmondo), but unlike your expected criminal noir lead, his flaw is that he’s just too damn good at his job to get away with it clean. He’s too efficient, too convincing, too assured, too organized and unfortunately too confusing for everyone involved with his masterfully orchestrated scheme. Silien’s brilliance is his downfall. True, women and money play an important role in his plan, but it’s not greed or lust that does him in - it’s his gift for surprise. The opening credits tells the audience "Le Doulos" is criminal slang for "the one who wears the hat”: the police informer, or “finger man”.

We’re led to believe Silien is the rat attempting to bring down Marcel Faugel (Serge Reggiani, of Casque d’or fame) and his associates after internal problems between members of a powerful criminal organization and a disrupted heist that thoroughly confuses everyone involved, including the policemen investigating the case. Faugel assumes it was Silien and plots his revenge. The police can’t add up the clues and suspect their informer of foul play and hidden agendas. The bosses are understandably baffled when Silien provokes trouble at their club. Even his old flame Fabienne (Fabienne Dali) is somewhat befuddled by Silien’s mysterious ways. For the audience, however, watching the twists and secrets unfold is all too pleasing.

The casting of Belmondo is another masterstroke by Melville. Belmondo's a charming actor, funny and cool, tough but also playful. His performance as Silien crosses all these lines, a noir anti-hero that spits out convention and redefines the criminal lead. Melville’s stylized dialogue and meticulous craftsmanship add to the overall effect of the story, but Belmondo should be justly praised for what could be considered his best performance.

When I think of black-and-white photography, I think of Sweet Smell of Success, The Third Man, The Trial...a few others, of course. Le Doulos, especially when discussing noir, is a masterpiece of black-and-white atmosphere. Everyone knows Melville has an impeccable eye, but this film in particular displays remarkable visual communication with its audience. The lighting is as important as the character. Melville and his collaborators manipulate light in a way that creates a setting as obscured, mysterious and at times even as classy, as Silien himself. The cold, dangerous streets at night, the intense rainfall, the sparkling club, the mixture of rear-screen projection and gritty exteriors (a deliberate stylistic choice considering French film entered new-wave realism in the ‘60s)...it’s as finely constructed as anything I’ve seen on film.

When the screening at the Film Forum concluded, a man on his way out commented that Melville is the greatest of all French directors. It's tough to disagree.