Film Review
When he was asked what
À bout
de souffle was meant to be about, the director Jean-Luc Godard
casually remarked that it was a documentary about Jean Seberg and
Jean-Paul Belmondo.
You can't help supposing that if the same question had been put to René Clément in relation to his
film
Plein soleil (released
in France one week earlier) the response would have been identical: a
documentary about Alain Delon. The film may, ostensibly, be a
slick suspense thriller, skilfully adapted from Patricia Highsmith's
1955 novel
The Talented Mr Ripley,
but it can equally be regarded as a profile of a star in the
making. The raw neo-realist feel that inhabits Clément's
early films (
La Bataille du rail
(1946),
Le Père tranquille
(1946),
Au-delà des grilles
(1949)) can be felt throughout the film but is most evident in the
documentary-like asides that follow the main protagonist as he strays
around the busy Italian exterior locations. The camera clings to
Delon like a devoted but slightly nervous admirer, determined but
constantly failing to reach the man beneath the aura of mystique that
he projects so effortlessly, either to safeguard his own privacy or to
conceal secrets of a dark and deadly import.
Plein soleil was the film that
made Alain Delon a world-renowned film star. It also pretty well
defined his screen persona for the rest of his career, and it is hard
to imagine an actor who was better suited to play the enigmatic Tom
Ripley, the most seductive serial murderer in American fiction.
Patricia Highsmith, the author who created the character, was
particularly impressed by Delon's portrayal and may conceivably have
drawn on it for her subsequent Ripley novels.
Belle Ombre, the name that
Highsmith gave to Ripley's residence in France, is as apt an epithet
for Delon as it is for the conscience-free psychopath he played so
superbly at the start of his illustrious career.
Despite its sumptuous Mediterranean setting, beautifully photographed
by Henri Decaë (arguably the greatest of all French
cinematographers),
Plein soleil
is the quintessential French polar, one that shows its roots in classic
American film noir with an almost shameless pride. The film's
popularity, both at home and abroad, helped to galvanise and rejuvenate
what was, by the late 1950s, becoming a tired genre, resulting in the
birth of the modern French policier, in which Alain Delon would become
an active contributor for the next two decades.
Twelve years before he conceived his famous score for
The
Godfather (1972), the Italian composer Nino Rota lent his
talents to
Plein soleil, a
film which may, indirectly, have led to the rebirth of the gangster
film in America. It can certainly be argued that Alain Delon's
subsequent gangster portrayals, in such films as Jean-Pierre Melville's
Le Samouraï (1967) and
Henri Verneuil's
Le Clan des Siciliens (1969),
provided a template for their hard-boiled American counterparts of the
1970s and beyond.
Whilst
Plein soleil is
unquestionably an inspired adaptation of Highsmith's novel (far
superior to Anthony Minghella's insipid 1999 version,
The Talented Mr. Ripley) it differs
markedly from its source. The most obvious departure from the
novel is the Hitchcock-style ending, which Highsmith decried as a
cowardly concession to public morality. (Controversially, the
author allowed her character to evade capture at the end of the novel
and resurrected him fifteen years later in
Ripley Under Ground, the second of
her five Ripley novels.) The Tom Ripley character that
René Clément and his screenwriter Paul Gégauff
present us with is far more opaque and ambiguous than Highsmith's
creation, less deserving of our sympathy and yet still irresistibly
alluring. There is a subtle menace and latent carnal savagery to
Delon's portrayal, redolent of a wild panther quietly stalking its
prey, which makes him a fascinating but slightly terrifying subject for
a film. As in the novels, we feel compelled to side with this
dark screen manifestation of Tom Ripley, and yet at the same time we
are appalled by his behaviour, which is aggravated to shocking
proportions by his outward boyish beauty. Ripley's lack of moral
awareness and the ease with which he prosecutes his criminal exploits
chill us to the core. 'Can a human being be capable of such
unconscionable evil?' we ask ourselves, scarcely daring to ask the more
profound question: why do we succumb so easily to the allure of such
monstrous characters?
Restored by Studio Canal in 2013 to its former sun-drenched glory,
Plein soleil showcases French
cinema of the early 1960s at its best, a film that is totally untainted
by the tedious pretensions of the French New Wave and yet liberated
from the starched morality and filmmaking techniques of earlier
decades. The presence of Alain Delon and two other promising
newcomers, Maurice Ronet and Marie Laforêt, with a fleeting
(uncredited) cameo appearance by Romy Schneider (Delon's fiancée
at the time), adds to the film's striking modernity, ensuring that it
would always rank highly in the league of French film classics.
Plein soleil marked a high
watermark for its director René Clément, who would never
again deliver a film so visually compelling as this or as emotionally
intense as his previous masterpieces
Jeux interdits (1952) and
Gervaise
(1956). As for its star, the talented Mr Delon, this was just the
beginning...
© James Travers 2013
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Next René Clément film:
Quelle joie de vivre (1960)