“Les diaboliques” (1955, Directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot)
(There are spoilers, marked clearly, in this review. Seeing as this gem of a thriller is available to you on Netflix instant, I BESEECH you not to ruin the experience: skip over the marked parts, and avail yourself of this landmark movie).
Alfred Hitchcock was the internationally recognized master of suspense, but the one man who ever made him sweat for that title was Henri-Georges Clouzot. A tragedy-prone, constantly ill Frenchman, Clouzot’s career was a bumpy ride with extreme highs and terrible lows, finally bottoming out in the 1960s as the New Wave roared through France and left him feeling obsolete. The saddest thing about the New Wave’s unjust derision of Clouzot’s films is that he took them to heart, swearing off his best work as unimportant. Time has shown that nothing could be farther from the truth, especially concerning his masterpiece, “Les diaboliques.”
I’m a little ruin.
A cunning piece of spine-tingling manipulation, “Les diaboliques” is the story of a bedridden school mistress named Christina Delassalle, who is stuck in a tyrannical marriage to the gold-digging Michel (she inherited the school they run). Constantly enduring abuse and humiliation, Christina is so desperate for human connection that she ends up in an uneasy alliance with Nicole, Michel’s mistress and a teacher at the school. Nicole herself is not unfamiliar with Mr. Delassalle’s true nature, and it isn’t long before the two of them are beginning to think about how they can remove him from the picture permanently. Christina is meek and deeply moralistic, but her righteous indignation and the cynical Nicole’s influence eventually gets the better of her. From there, the story really starts to get interesting.
HUGE SPOILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y-jeKweu8eg
True to its title (which literally translates to “The Devils”), “Diabolique” (its American name) is an incredibly dark film. While not particularly violent and lacking a shred of gore, it’s still about as oppressive an experience as you can have. Clouzot distinguishes himself from Hitchcock by doing nothing whatsoever to relieve the tension of the story. His relentlessness made such an impression on the master of suspense that, according to some, “Psycho” was produced as a deliberate answer, and it is no coincidence that it was the darkest film he ever did. “Diabolique” also lacks any bawdy sensationalism, or tantalizing Freudian subtexts, or anything that might water down the subject matter. There is hardly any score, no romance, and the ending is a far cry from Hollywood standard. This is a sober, disciplined monster. If Hitchcock’s “The Man Who Knew Too Much” (made around the same time…the second version, that is) is a sip of brandy, “Les diaboliques” is a shot of moonshine. Both are profound experiences, but one is obviously designed to smack you in your face.
Let us reflect on this movie’s relationship to “Psycho” for a moment. Certainly Hitchcock’s deranged thriller is one of the most important films of all time, tonally and from a business perspective. It established the modern horror genre as it would henceforth be known, its daring plot—especially the murder of the apparent protagonist in the second act—was a watershed moment in Western fiction, and its deranged twist ending was a revelation. It even has the distinction of being the movie that instituted staggered showings, forcing people to sit through the whole thing instead of wandering in and out. In short, “Psycho” is recognized as a more important film than “Les diabolique,” and I will not contest this. Still, allow me to suggest that Hitchcock owed quite a debt to Clouzot. This film was produced five years before Norman Bates came into existence, and it was already developing the tonal language of the modern horror film. Yes, “Psycho” pushed harder to escape from the grasp of conventional suspense, to create a new and horrific breed of thriller, but “Les diabolique” was the hybrid that first broke that ground. And anyway, Alfred had five years to look at what Clouzot had done and think about where to go with it.
I may be reactionary, but this is absolutely astounding – the legal wife consoling the mistress! No, no, and no!
Vera Clouzot (the director’s wife) steals the show in the lead role, giving us a woman who is too gracious and well-meaning to exist in our world. Poor Christina is a sensitive soul trying to play tough in order to survive, and she knows she stands no chance. That she could never hurt a fly makes her involvement in a murder plot the stuff of great fiction. Meanwhile the sultry Simone Signoret oozes world-weary sexuality as Nicole; this is a woman competent and steady enough to actually make the crime happen. Their friendship is an intriguing one, because both of them sense their deficiencies in the other. Nicole is healthy and tough, but hollowed out; Christina is sweet, yet broken and exhausted. Neither has found happiness in life, and perhaps it is with some sadness that they regard one another and wonder if happiness is even possible. Their war against Michel, the common enemy, could be seen as the struggle of all women against a society that is constantly putting them down. This subtext seems all the more likely when considering how decidedly un-sexualized the protagonists are, even though they are both stunningly beautiful.
I have commented many times that this list does not exclude a flawed film that dares to be great, and so there are many flawed giants on this list. “Les diabolique” is not one of them. From plotting to pacing, this thing is as tight as a drum. Each scene is a masterpiece of classical construction, and the coverage is so good that I have to wonder if this was the most pleasant shoot in cinema history. Every shot the movie needs is here, not a single one more or less. The first time I watched “Les diabolique,” the camera never occurred to me, which is especially incredible since the movie is in black and white. I never saw actors, or set design, or even heard a score, because I was too busy having an experience. It takes a lot of talent and even more hard work to fashion two hours of visual entertainment this sturdily.
The keys in the pool, the husband in the morgue! You dream too much about water in this house!
Of course, none of what I’ve mentioned here is actually why the movie is remembered. “Diabolique’s” legacy is as a thriller, a movie that methodically engineers an edge-of-your-seat experience. Each new revelation digs into the deepest reservoirs of basic human experience: fear of the dead, the haunting nature of sin, and the insatiable appetite of the truth. The black and white photography is used for maximum effect, drowning the gorgeous French countryside in oppressive blacks and grays. The boys’ school is a lovely place, but it is framed and shot like a prison: the rooms feel cold, the outdoor courtyards lead nowhere, the sunlight never seems to escape from the trees. It is the kind of place a haunting could occur in, so when our characters are presented with it, it is easy to believe.
The story is not impossible to anticipate, especially among today’s cynical moviegoers, but the precision engineering of every frame makes for an exceptional roller coaster anyway. The surprise doesn’t really come from the plot anyway, it comes from how strongly the audience identifies with the protagonists, believes in the world they inhabit, and understands the problems they are facing. It’s amazing that at this time, even tawdry thrillers (which is what this would have been considered) examined their characters with tremendous care. “Diabolique” has nothing to trade on, after all, except the sheer volume of the experience it provides.
To commit suicide in the Seine, one doesn’t need to undress.
In retrospect, a classical French film produced right before the New Wave tore up the rule book could be considered a doomed creature, and in some ways it is, but “Les diabolique” has survived its unfortunate birth—it has even endured its creators indifference. Time now lists it among their 25 best horror films, and it is well regarded as one of the classics in the horror/suspense genre. Its austere, largely scoreless tone ages beautifully, allowing new generations to experience a surprisingly hip, modern thriller. And because it is a functional hybrid of modern horror and classical suspense, it is a truly unique cinematic voyage. “Les diabolique” is a treasure, a movie years ahead of its time. It was so good it changed everything after it, even if it did so in secret.
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