2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
C. O. DeRiemer
- Published on Amazon.com
With Claude Chabrol's Masques, we have mystery in the country manor with, perhaps, murder in the country manner. But was there a murder and, if so, who did the murdering? Chabrol leads us to the easy conclusion, reassures us, then let's us consider the thought that there might be other possibilities.
It's far better for a director's reputation that he or she turn out turgid serious films than well-crafted entertainments. Claude Chabrol is a case in point. Although his more serious films are scarcely turgid, it is his many films over the last 35 years or so, most of which can easily be called entertainments, at least by me, that sometimes cause a condescending sniff. It's nearly impossible to read comments about a Chabrol film without seeing yet another reference to his "French New Wave" credentials -- of over 40 years ago -- or to that tired old cliché of Chabrol being France's answer to Hitchcock.
I admire Chabrol for one simple reason. In a long career he has continued to make movie after movie, year after year, and good ones. While most of his peers have died, or took themselves too seriously, or wandered about, or didn't produce much, Chabrol has just kept busy making movies...all kinds of movies, mysteries, murders, comedies, satires, dramas. He can be serious about serious things, if it suits him, but more often he can be amusing about serious things. His movies are literate and nearly always depend upon the mood Chabrol creates around the plot. It's clear that he's not impressed by authority figures or the conventions of smooth-running society. He's not above a bit of gruesome shock. Occasionally he can be unsettling, even sad. Occasionally he'll produce a dud or a half dud. Through it all, he keeps making movies. It seems to me that if one accepts that motion pictures are above all popular entertainment, then having one's films praised as entertainment -- literate entertainment -- should be seen as high praise.
Chabrol is one of the great craftsmen of movie making, one with a point of view, and one with whom some fine actors want to work. And that brings us back to Masques, another of Claude Chabrol's literate entertainments, this one with that great actor, Philippe Noiret.
Christian Lagagneur (Noiret) is the ebullient host of a popular television game show. On a pink set with a ricky-tick band playing ricky-tick music, Lagagneur hosts elderly couples who must perform a song or a dance, and then they're voted upon to see which couple wins the trip of a lifetime. He agrees to have Roland Wolf (Robin Renucci) write his biography. He invites Wolf to a weekend at his country manor where they'll work together. At the manor are Lagagneur's secretary, Colette, a smiling, watchful woman, along with his live-in masseuse and her husband, who looks after the wine. The cook is also the chauffeur, a man who is mute. "Max had tongue cancer which metastasized into his ears," explains Lagagneur to Wolf. There also is Catherine, a pale, thin young woman who wears dark glasses in the house. Catherine is Lagagneur's ward and godchild. She is a minor but just barely. We know something's up when Wolf, unpacking in his room, removes a revolver from his valise and hides it away in a closet, and then discovers a lipstick. He looks at it carefully, and then writes a large M on the mirror. He murmurs "Madeleine" and then wipes it off. It's not long before we discover Madeline was a houseguest, too, who left suddenly in the night. We witness Lagagneur's solicitude for Catherine, his insistence that doctors not see her because of the damage they caused earlier, his concern that she take the pills Colette crushes and mixes in her tea. We also witness Catherine's instability, her mood swings and her unexpected passions. Wolf interviews Lagagneur, records everything, and at night discovers secrets. Whatever is going to happen in this manor house over the weekend, we can be sure death will be involved.
Philippe Noiret dominates the movie just as his character, Christian Lagagneur, dominates the manor house and the game show. Lagagneur is relentlessly full of bon homme. His overwhelming small talk gives nothing away. His charm at first can seem genuine. Noiret, whether prancing about the television stage embracing an old woman dressed in her best, glancing at his cue cards and mouthing aggressive patter about the delights of old age, or playing chess in a dark room while measuring with drooping eye lids the possible motives of Wolf, is sheer pleasure. Noiret has played so many indelible characters it's impossible to say which are best. Among my favorites are Lucien Cordier in Coup de Torchon - Criterion Collection, Major Delaplane in Life and Nothing But, Alfredo in Cinema Paradiso (Two-Disc Deluxe Edition) and D'Artagnan in the amusing Revenge of the Musketeers. And if you like stick-it-in-your-nose detectives who must have paprika on their eggs, try Claude Chabrol's Inspector Lavardin in The Kimstim Collection: Cop au Vin and The Kimstim Collection: Inspecteur Lavardin.
Masques is a clever, misleading mystery with some sharp edges. There are no extras. The DVD transfer looks just fine.
2 of 3 people found the following review helpful
Frank J. De Canio
- Published on Amazon.com
I've always wondered what makes Hitchcock slightly different from his imitators (imitators either by design or accident). The latter films seem to use images that are a potpourri of those of the former. All of the plots and moral interests are there and yet they somehow don't have the cogency, the underlying vision, the emotional underpinnings of a great Hitchcock movie.
In the jargon of creative writing classes, perhaps the problem is that they "tell" instead of "show". Could it be that films which impress me less have ideas that are then gussied up with plot, while the films that mean more to be have narratives which are informed by a vision that drives them?
Certainly the idea of organic growth in those films seems of use here in understanding where the problem may lie; a sense that the situation and its development has or has not been earned.
Be it as it may, Chabrol is always interesting, notwithstanding what may be unavoidable snippets of the master's influence. I like Masques immensely, but with the reservation that Hitchcock would have done it differently. For instance, Sir Alfred emphasized the importance of letting the viewer be privy to important bits of information,lacking which it's harder to get involved.
I'm referring to the fact that the hero has ulterior motives in writing a biography of his avowed idol. Lacking this information, the gun which he deposits in his guest room's closet seems ludicrous at the time. I mean what is a writer doing carrying a gun with him as a guest in someone's house, unless from the beginning he was either groomed as a potential murderer or as the case will be. It's lacking context.
Chabrol knows what it's there for, but shouldn't we? Its only purpose seems to be the heeding of Chekhov's principle that a gun appearing early in a play should be used later. But any prop like that needs a context (cleaning his gun collection, for instance;of of a slew of old mementoes that he's reminiscng about),a justification as it were, which we don't get till later.
Then, there's the usual echoes of Hitchcock here, not neccessarily obvious, bad or intentional, but worth noting. The panning shot on the bed (minus the money on the blanket) seems to pay homage to a similar shot in Psycho. The immobolized Catherine echoes Ingrid Bergman in Notorious. Madeline possesses the same mystery for the hero as she did for Scotty Ferguson in Vertigo. Even the March of the Marionettes (the introductory music to Alfred Hitchcock's old TV show) accompanies the game show host sometimes on his tv program. The arrangement for the murder brought back memories of Vandamm's directive to drop Eve Kendall "from a great height" in North by Northwest. And isn't that the key from Notorious that allows for the hero's discovery, not this time of Uranium, but of compromising documents? The hero's wry, sheepish retort, "She's my future wife" when queried by the garage attendant as to who the woman is, echoes, at a similarly tense motive (meant to inform the suspense with romance)and not necessarily to its advantage, Roger Thornhill's "If we ever get out of this alive, we're going back on the train together".
Nothing wrong with these evocations. After all, like language, a certain use of images will reappear from time to time. But the wit, the clever, urbane dialogue, and the emotional investment, the identification, that a good Hitchcok film demands is somewhat lacking here.
Organically creating suspense from situations (earning it) instead of manufactuing it, may be another clue as to diminished returns in an otherwise very good and yes, suspenceful film by a clear master of his craft. I hope this doesn't read like a presumptuous attempt to criticize a great movie director. It's meant to reflect an admiration for a director
who's great, unique and singularly interesting enough to suggest the comparison.
That said, the filmic values here are all great. The cast, the acting, the twists and turns of plot all mandate thoughtful viewing and reward it.
Would I want to see it again. Yes. If only to look for further details that merit scrutiny. For instance, I was impressed by the economy of the manner in which the movie managed to tie up plot concerns. The villain's trenchant valedictory (which bt the way reminded me of the misogynistic dinner table sequence in Shadow of a Doubt) eliminated a personl moral credibility the lead character had, which might have been useful to any future defense (I don't want to give plot issues away here), while the affiliation of the hero also afforded him certain exemptions that helped advance the plot. On the other hand Catherine's sudden conversion didn't seem too convincing. But all in all, a good movie.