Cette femme-là (2003) - film review

When the body of an old woman is found hanging from a tree in a forest, police inspector Michèle Varin starts an investigation that might well be the death of her.  For the past few years, she had lived alone, constantly lamenting the premature death of her son.  Thoughts of suicide haunt her and provoke a series of horrific nightmares.  Her investigation takes a darker turn when her amiable young colleague dies, apparently having shot himself in the head…

Cette femme-là builds on director Guillaume Nicloux’s previous forays into the policier genre, Le Pouple (1998) and Une affair privée (2002).  Just as the latter film cast actor Thierry Lhermitte in a new light – in a tough dramatic role – so this film gives actress Josiane Balasko the same treatment.  Those who are used to Balsko’s extrovert comic persona will be surprised by her apparent transformation in this film, for here she has to play a hard, emotionally crippled and rather pathetic middle aged cop whose only companion is a terminally ill bunny rabbit.  It’s a very creditable performance, harrowingly introspective and contributing greatly to the intensely dark, claustrophobic and hopelessly pessimistic mood of the piece.

In stark contrast to most French thrillers, the story is told from the perspective of its central character (the role played by Balasko). What makes this particularly interesting is that this character has severe psychological problems, so that the boundary between reality and imagination is often blurred and logical coherence is lacking. This unsettling impression is brought home by some skilful noir cinematography which, whilst relying a little too much on familiar stock horror film clichés, manages to evoke a terrifying world of shadows and lurking threats, the world as seen by Balasko’s character as she undergoes a process of mental collapse brought on by guilt, loneliness and overwork.

If the film has a fault it is that the grim, nihilist feel is too relentless, too oppressive, so that, after a while, it becomes monotonous.   The deficiencies in the plotting and characterisation become apparent in the second half of the film, with secondary characters reduced to vague expressionist sketches, lacking any tangible presence.  Whilst it may not be a wholly original idea, the merging of reality and nightmares is effectively done, to the point that at the end of the film you are left wondering whether the entire drama wasn’t just a bad dream.  It isn’t perfect, but, thanks mainly to Josiane Balasko’s contribution, it is certainly an absorbing and stylish film, a chilling melange of urban horror and the traditional French polar.

© James Travers 2007

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