Film Review
Edmond T. Gréville began his prolific career as a director and
screenwriter by working as a trainee assistant to Abel Gance on
Napoléon
(1927), so it seems fitting that one of his last films should so
strongly evoke another of Gance's films -
Paradis
perdu (1940). Like Gance's film,
L'Envers du paradis laments the
brevity of life, love and happiness, but in a somewhat more subdued and
ironic manner, typical of Gréville's more understated style of
cinema. Almost from the outset, impending death is seen to linger
over one of the characters, but, as any student of French literature
will know, love is stronger than death and a happy ending is assured,
in spite of the tragedy which we know must come. It's not so much
a case of
Paradise Lost as
Paradise Found, the pathway to Eden
revealed to each of the protagonists in subtly different ways.
L'Envers du paradis may lack
the oppressive mood of Gréville's earlier films but for all its
sunny southern France setting - more than vaguely reminiscent of Marcel
Pagnol's idyllic Provence - there are dark undercurrents at work
beneath the smiling Côte d'Azur sky. Scenes of youngsters
partying and playing pétanque are intercut with quiet portraits
of the protagonists reflecting solemnly on the hand that has been dealt
them. For each of them - a failed writer, a disillusioned sea
captain, a stressed out Parisian and a teenage girl with a terminal
illness - life lacks meaning until the fateful day when a brutal murder
presents itself. Suddenly, life has value and three of the
protagonists fall over themselves to take the rap for the killing
whilst the fourth, overwhelmed by compassion, is driven to betray his
principles because he cannot bear to bring about an unhappy
outcome. The quality of mercy is not strained, here it the great
redeemer, giving all who succumb to it noble sway a taste of paradise
that guides them out of their personal Hell.
The idyllic love affair between the writer Blaise and doomed adolescent
Violaine is starkly counterpointed by the more sordid relationship
between Blaise and Michèle, a purely animalistic coupling of
ill-matched egoists that inevitably ends in disaster.
Gréville's trademark eroticism is palpably felt in Jacques
Sernas's tempestuous scenes with Dora Doll, the latter at her most
sultry and sensual - no wonder she was so often cast as the femme
fatale in many French movies of the 1950s. In one shot (daring
and provocative for its time), Doll's hungry talons are seen clawing at
Sernas' naked hairy torso, imply a brutal physicality to Blaise's
relationship with Michèle that is totally lacking in his affair
with Violaine, which is portrayed as a thing of divine beauty, despite
the obvious disparity in their ages. The love that the retired
captain O'Hara has for Violaine is on an altogether higher spiritual
plane - one that makes his attempt at self-sacrifice far more
comprehensible than Blaise's abrupt willingness to inculpate himself.
Gréville's mise-en-scène is of an entirely more
sophisticated and expressive kind than what we find in his subsequent
films, which show an all too obvious attempt to move with the
times. Here his work is made easier by the cast of remarkable
performers he has at is disposal, headed by the great Erich von
Stroheim, still a compelling presence in the dwindling twilight of his
remarkable career. Although he received top billing, von Stroheim
appears in only a handful of scenes, but in every one of these scenes
he is unutterably beguiling, having lost none of his power to steal our
attention and our sympathies. The actor's strained attempts to
speak French (something he never quite mastered, in spite of the fact
he made most of his films in France) lend an exquisite poignancy to his
performance, suggesting a man who, unable to express his deeper
feelings, appears eaten up by his life's regrets. His character
is a tragic wreck of a man who, having lost all of his illusions, has
but one solace left to him - to act as guardian angel for the one
person he genuinely loves. It's a very different portrayal to the
one that the actor gave in Gréville's earlier
Menaces
(1940). Von Stroheim's life partner Denise Vernac also appears in
the film, in a few touching scenes.
The star of the film is the 21-year-old Etchika Choureau,
extraordinarily captivating in her first screen role as the wraith-like
heroine Violaine. Choureau wasn't just stunningly beautiful,
she was also a highly sensitive and skilful
actress and, having made her name in France, it was only a few years
before she was making a promising debut in Hollywood, in William
A.Wellman's
The Young Invaders
(1958) and
Lafayette Escadrille
(1958). Choureau's career was cut short in the late 1950s when
she took a break from acting to pursue a short-lived love affair with
the crown prince of Morocco. A few years later she gave up acting
altogether, one of the great lost talents of French cinema.
Choureau's handsome co-star Jacques Sernas enjoyed a far longer and
busier career, although he devoted most of his efforts to Italian
cinema, featuring in several sword and sandals epics and some worthier
films such as Fellini's
La Dolce vita (1960), in which
he poignantly played a fading film star.
L'Envers du paradis is not one
of Edmond T. Gréville's better known films, although it probably
deserves to be, given the artistry of its mise-en-scène
the quality of its script and authenticity of the
performances. We can accept Gréville's
slightly eccentric use of flashback around the part of the film
where the murder takes place since this forces us to reserve
judgement on the protagonists as we see things from their
perspective. In the manner of a classic film noir, a
precognition of death haunts this as it
does much of Gréville's work, giving it an eerily poetic
quality. Thirteen years later the director was killed in a road
accident, just a few years after completing his final film,
prophetically titled
L'Accident.
© James Travers 2015
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.
Next Edmond T. Gréville film:
Le Port du désir (1955)
Film Synopsis
Badly in need of a few weeks of rest in tranquil surroundings, a
Parisian named Gabriel Dautrand arrives in a small rural town in the
south of France. One of the first people he meets is a retired
sea captain, William O'Hara, who warns him that once he has settled he
may never want to leave. Certainly the region has its charms, but
there are undercurrents of something darker. A murder is about to
be committed and Gabriel is sure to be caught up in it. The
victim is Michèle, the habitually drunken mistress of a
struggling writer, Blaise d'Orliac. Unbeknown to Michèle,
Blaise has been carrying on a secret love affair with Violaine
Roumégoux, a teenager who, owing to an incurable medical
condition, has only a few months left to live. The affair is
known only to O'Hara, who is also secretly in love with Violaine and
wants only to see her happy. When Michèle is shot dead,
Violaine draws the obvious conclusion that she was killed by Blaise and
creates fake evidence that will lead her to be charged with the
murder. What does it matter if she is arrested and
condemned? She knows she will soon be in her grave, whatever
happens. O'Hara has no intention of letting either Violaine or
Blaise take the blame for Michèle's death. He puts a
second bullet into the dead woman's body and hands himself over to the
police, certain that he will give Violaine the chance to live out her
last few weeks in happiness...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.