Film Review
It is a moot point as to which film marks the beginning of the French
New Wave, but a likely contender is Louis Malle's stylish
suspense-thriller
Ascenseur pour
l'échafaud (a.k.a.
Lift
to the Scaffold).
Malle was keen to dissociate himself
from the Nouvelle Vague (which, for him, consisted of the former
critics on the film review paper
Les
Cahiers du cinéma) but there is no doubt that his early
films, which include
Les Amants (1959) and
Le
Feu follet (1963), exhibit a strong aesthetic connection
with those being turned out at the same time by his bona fide New Wave
contemporaries, Truffaut, Godard, Rivette, et al.
Ascenseur pour l'échafaud is
the first film that Malle made as a solo film director, but prior to
this he had co-directed another groundbreaking film with the
oceanographer Jacques-Yves Cousteau,
Le Monde du silence
(1956). This earlier film had been the surprise winner of the
Palme d'or at Cannes in 1956, making Malle the youngest film director
ever to receive the award (at the age of 23).
After serving his apprenticeship with Cousteau, Malle offered his
services as an assistant to another cultural giant, Robert
Bresson. The experience that Malle gained by working with Bresson
on
Un condamné à mort s'est
echappé (1956) was to prove invaluable and accounts
for the unmistakable Bressonian patina to his early films (in
particular
Le Feu follet).
Ascenseur pour l'échafaud
was made for the same company that had produced
Un condamné à mort s'est
echappé, Nouvelles Éditions de Films - the company
that Malle would subsequently buy to produce his own films. The
man who played the lead character in Bresson's jail-break film,
François Leterrier, ended up as Malle's assistant on two of his
films (
Ascenseur and
Les Amants), before becoming a film
director in his own right.
The other important influence on Malle at this stage in his career was
the English film director Alfred Hitchcock.
Ascenseur pour l'échafaud
may have been adapted from a French pulp fiction novel (by Noël Calef)
but it abounds with Hitchcockian themes and motifs and is the closest
thing in French cinema to a Hitchcock-style suspense thriller.
The sequences in which the main male character, Julien, attempts to
escape from the titular lift are a remarkably effective fusion of
Bressonian and Hitchcockian technique, whilst the central plot idea of
a man being inculpated for the wrong crime and the use of doubles (the
ironic cross-linking of the two main male characters) are pure
Hitchcock.
It is interesting to compare
Ascenseur
pour l'échafaud with two similar films from the 'official
strand' of the French New Wave, Jean-Luc Godard's
À
bout de souffle (1960) and François Truffaut's
Tirez sur le pianiste
(1961). Each of these three films is a far from subtle homage to
American film noir and each has a crafty modernist slant. Yet
whereas Godard and Truffaut are both consciously attempting to subvert
the pulp fiction genre, Malle adheres respectfully to its conventions,
and this is, in essence, what differentiates Malle from his New Wave
contemporaries. Godard and company had made it their mission to
reinvent cinema; Malle was happy to build on what had gone
before.
Ascenseur pour
l'échafaud is not too dissimilar to most French policiers
of the 1950s and is a natural progression from Jacques Becker's
Touchez pas au grisbi (1954)
(both films feature Lino Ventura, an actor closely associated with the
genre). There are three things which set
Ascenseur pour l'échafaud
apart from other French crime films of this time: Henri Decaë's
mesmerising black-and-white photography, a stand-out performance from
Jeanne Moreau, and a revolutionary improvised score from the legendary
jazz musician Miles Davis.
If there is one person who deserves to be credited for creating the
distinctive look of the early films of the French New Wave that person
is assuredly Henri Decaë, one of France's greatest
cinematographers. Decaë started his career by working for
Jean-Pierre Melville on
Le Silence de la mer (1949), a
film noted for its radically new approach to lighting.
Decaë's preference for using natural lighting wherever possible
would prove to be a great asset on his films for François
Truffaut (
Les 400 coups) and Claude
Chabrol (
Le Beau Serge) - not only did
it allow the films to be shot more quickly but it also brought a
heightened reality. Decaë's approach had a strong influence on
another key cinematographer of the French New Wave, Raoul Coutard.
Decaë's work on
Ascenseur pour
l'échafaud is some of his finest and contributes much to
the aching sense of melancholia and futility that pervades the film,
powerfully expressing the feelings of the four protagonists as their
hopes and dreams are brutally smashed to pieces by coincidence and
chance.
It is impossible to watch
Ascenseur
pour l'échafaud without being deeply troubled and
captivated by Jeanne Moreau's hauntingly sultry presence. This is
the film that established Moreau as France's leading actress and gave
her the international profile she deserved. She had by this time
appeared in twenty films, few of which were seen outside France.
Despite some high-profile roles - she starred opposite Fernandel in
Meurtres
(1950) and Jean Gabin in
Gas-Oil (1955) - Jeanne Moreau
hadn't yet been given the chance to fulfil her potential. The
turning point in her career came when she played the part of Maggie in
Peter Brook's Paris stage production of Tennessee Williams'
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. It was
on the strength of this performance that Malle gave her the lead role
in
Ascenseur pour l'échafaud,
the role that was soon to make her an icon of the French New
Wave. Whilst not a conventional beauty, Jeanne Moreau has an
irresistible siren-like quality about her, which was first revealed
here, through Henri Decaë's brutal yet sensual lighting of her
face (most notably in the huge, hypnotic close-ups that open and close
the film).
The film's third crucial element is the highly innovative score
provided by Miles Davis and his jazz quintet. It so happened that
whilst Malle was making the film, Davis was on tour in Paris. On
impulse, Malle invited Davis and his group to improvise a score for the
film. In the course of one evening, Miles Davis gave French cinema
one if its most memorable and evocative film scores, the highlight
being the unforgettable sequence in which Moreau is seen walking alone
in the rain down the Champs-Elysées. Davis's trumpet
playing gives the sequence such an unbearable sense of loss that the
spectator is totally immersed in Moreau's feeling of abandonment as she
walks unseeingly into the night, crushed and hopelessly alone.
Another inspired touch was the casting of Maurice Ronet as Moreau's
luckless lover Julien. Like Moreau, Ronet was an established
screen actor who had yet to prove his mettle. Malle gave him that
opportunity in two important roles that were to make him a star: Julien
in
Ascenseur pour l'échafaud
and the suicidal writer in
Le Feu
follet (by far his greatest role). In both of these films,
Ronet is perfectly cast as the disconnected loner who, try as he might,
just cannot get to grips with life and is ultimately overwhelmed by his
failure. Ronet's Julien makes an exquisite counterpoint to the
young tearaway Louis (Georges Poujouly) who steals his car, his
identity and ultimately his reason for living. Julien and Louis
represent two generations with completely different moral outlooks, and
yet they seem to have so much in common.
Through his experience of combat in Indochina, Julien has had to grow
up fast and has a cold, cynical view of life. He can doubtless
find a moral justification for murdering his lover's husband - he is,
after all, an arms trader with a highly dubious past. Louis, by
contrast, has been spared such a brutalising history and appears to be
no more than a boy. If Julien's morality is flawed, Louis's is
non-existent. Whereas Julien's crime is a carefully planned
execution, Louis's is a senseless act of thuggery. The courts
will show Julien leniency and he will get off with a ten year stretch
in prison; Louis stands a good chance of being guillotined, despite his
tender age. Julien and Louis are different in so many ways, yet
they represent the same thing: a generation of young men living in the
shadow of France's far from glorious recent past, whose lives will be
indelibly marked by their country's painful process of decolonisation.
A critical and commercial success,
Ascenseur
pour l'échafaud won Louis Malle the Louis-Delluc Prize in
1957 and established him as one of France's most promising filmmakers,
at the age of 26. Having worked with Malle a second time on
Les Amants (a highly controversial
film on account of its daring love scenes), Jeanne Moreau scored
another triumph as Catherine in Truffaut's
Jules
et Jim (1962), by which time the French New Wave had well
and truly arrived. The slickest and most involving French
thriller of the decade,
Ascenseur
pour l'échafaud remains one of Louis Malle's most highly
regarded films - not just a compelling policier but also a sombre
meditation on the darker realities of contemporary France, in
particular the indirect consequences of the country's seemingly
interminable colonial wars, the scars of which endure to this day.
© James Travers 2013
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Next Louis Malle film:
Les Amants (1958)