La Crime (1983)
Directed by Philippe Labro

Film Review

La Crime is an eminently watchable example of the neo-polar, or political thriller, that was extremely popular in France in the mid-70s to mid-80s.  Inspired by a series of high-profile political-financial scandals in the media, the genre fed on widespread public cynicism for the political elite and big business and clearly owes much to the old film noir thriller, in which a lone hero, usually a maverick cop, finds himself enmeshed in a dangerous web of cordite-scented intrigue.  By the time La Crime was made, the genre had been pretty comprehensively mined out, so the film has nothing new to contribute and feels a little too formulaic and predictable, although it still has considerable artistic merit.

The film was directed by Philippe Labro, a distinguished journalist and author who also helmed the slick Belmondo action thriller L'Alpagueur (1976) and the stylish romantic thriller Rive droite, rive gauche (1984).  Like many of his contemporaries, Labro was greatly influenced by American cinema of the time as well as classic film noir, to the extent that La Crime at times feels like a Gallic homage to the Dirty Harry movies, complete with a lone cop with an anger management problem and an awkward tendency to shoot first and ask questions later.  The film's creditable production values are bolstered by its stellar cast, which brings together three French acting legends of the period - Claude Brasseur, Jean-Claude Brialy and Jean-Louis Trintignant, all excellent in their respective roles.  Brasseur was particularly well-chosen for the part of the Dirty Harry look-alike and has rarely appeared more comfortable on screen as the hard guy - he may act tough, but his character is a sensitive soul underneath it all, and, being a stickler for good old-fashioned honesty, he offers the one beacon of hope in a world that seems to be mired in corruption and self-interest.

Whilst La Crime is somewhat grittier and has a higher body count than most neo-polars, it feels pretty tame when set against comparable American thrillers of the era.   There are plenty of scenes in which Labro could have taken a few leaves out of Sam Peckinpah's book and given the film a much darker edge, but instead he errs on the side of caution, with the result that the film is almost distastefully mild in its portrayal of extreme physical violence.  Whilst the plot holds few surprises, the film still manages to hold the attention, thanks mainly to the compelling performances from its superlative lead actors and a sustained mood of deadly menace brought by Pierre-William Glenn's atmospheric cinematography.  And, because political corruption never seems to go out of fashion, the film still feels uncannily relevant...

Film Synopsis

When Alins, an eminent lawyer, is shot dead by two men disguised as police officers, Inspector Martin Griffon investigates the killing, certain that Alins was the victim of a political cover-up.  Aware that Griffon has a reputation for tenacious truth seeking which may, on this occasion, prove dangerous, his superiors partner him with a more senior cop, Jean-François Rambert.  There is no love lost between the two men even though they have worked together before, not since Rambert stole both Griffon's wife and his career prospects.   Griffon soon discovers that Alins was implicated in a shady government contract with a crooked Armenian businessman, but his key witness, the dead man's mistress, is killed before she can testify.   When a minister is driven to commit suicide, Griffon realises he is up against a powerful and deadly adversary, so now is probably not the best time to fall in love...