J’ai vu tuer Ben Barka (2005) - film review

In January 1966, Georges Figon, a renowned criminal, is found dead in a Parisian apartment.  His death is connected with the recent abduction and alleged execution in France of Mehdi Ben Barka, leader of the opposition party in Morocco and a key political figure in the Third World.  A year ago, shortly after leaving prison, Figon was persuaded by one of his underworld contacts to make a documentary about decolonisation.  The film would be directed by Georges Franju and scripted by Marguerite Duras, with Ben Barka acting as historical consultant.  Without realising it, Figon has allowed himself to be the bait in a very dangerous game of political intrigue…

It would be easy to dismiss J’ai vu tuer Ben Barka as nothing more than a self-indulgent pastiche of 1960s French thriller.  Anyone familiar with this kind of film cannot help but notice the seemingly endless references to the genre that was so popular in that decade.  Whilst the cinematography is certainly impressive – a respectful and meticulous homage to the film policier, with some stylish film noir touches – it does ultimately feel like a slavish and rather vacuous exercise in imitation.  The problem is that, beyond the seductive surface gloss, there’s not a great deal to hold and reward the spectator’s attention.  The narrative is baffling, a mishmash of confusing subplots with two-dimensional, poorly delineated characters.

To a French person with some knowledge of political events of the mid-1960s, the film should have far greater significance.  The objective of the film would presumably be to shed some light on the mysterious and still unexplained murder of the prominent Moroccan politician Mehdi Ben Barka in 1965.  Far from silencing the affair, a heavy-handed government cover-up during the final De Gaulle presidency only fermented speculation, with some prominent journalists suggesting a wide-ranging conspiracy involving the French secret services, Mossad and the CIA.  There’s clearly a fascinating story to be told here but this film fails to come up with the goods.  Its director, Serge Le Péron, seems to be far more interested in style and the art of cinematography than in telling a coherent and believable story.  Rather than helping to resolve the mystery or even give a plausible account of the known facts, the film only succeeds in muddying some blood-stained waters even further.

© James Travers 2007

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