MUBI

I love how economical Melville is with his dialogue. He knows that film is first & foremost a visual medium. He’s a creator of pure cinema. There’s never a point in any of the films I’ve seen of his where the dialogue feels unnecessary, which is more than you can say for contemporary crime film directors today such as Refn & Tarantino. Because of this, Le Samourai is essentially a silent film. The images speak more than any of the characters could. Alain Delon is quiet not because the film forces him to be, but because that’s his character – he’s a loner, an introvert with few interests and connections. When he’s caught and goes through the process of being identified, he creates several connections that he can’t shake throughout the course of the film. Curiosity and fear creates his one way predicament. Melville is the master of creating suspense by seemingly doing so little. A silent little scene where a man places a recording device in a apartment shows us not only the police’s questionable morality (a big theme in Melville’s career, possibly), but also – since it never cuts away – creates tension so thick. Will our protagonist show up? What will happen then? Another instance is the only dialogue heavy scene in the film where a policeman shows up at one of our protagonist’s main connection’s apartment. He questions and threatens her then gives her a potentially sweet deal if she squeaks. We don’t know how strong her feelings are for Costello since he seems to ignore her. I felt that any moment she could of let it out – the actress deliberately makes it seem she’s about to crumble at any second. This scene also shows how the film is somewhat intellectually stimulating: the questionable morality of the police officer invading and going through her home goes along with the repeating theme – are the police just as corrupt as the criminals they’re dealing with? All in all though, Le Samourai is a film more about the pit-of-your-stomach feeling it elicits more than it’s about the thoughts it creates. Simply put, this film is a masterpiece.

This is truly, as many say, one of the coolest films ever made. The way Melville explores solitude is amazing. Right from the beginning Samurai quote to Costello’s relationship with his pet bird to the blandness and minimalism of his home interiors and even the fact that he thought of Costello leading a distractionless life so as to focus solely on perfection.

The plot is as meticulous as the main character with hardly a loophole. Alain Delon and his legendary distant stare work wonders within the context of this movie. I love the fact that Melville showed such cool scenes to show his coldness and patience.

Sound – The bird sounds throughout gave the movie a very very solitary vibe. With minimum dialogue, most of Delon’s scenes were just like a silent film being played out – even the time when he takes his cars to the number plate mechanic. Besides that, the songs and music throughout were fabulous. I am going to look for some of the piano pieces played in there.

I love crime dramas and in that genre, this is a big film. I just finished viewing it and it gives me the feeling that I might not be thinking about much else for atleast 2-3 days now.

Le film s’ouvre, en générique, sur Jeff (Alain Delon) allongé sur son lit, dans une chambre de bonne parisienne, immobile et froid, comme s’il était déjà mort. Le titre est immédiatement justifié par une citation extraite du « Livre de Bushido », proclamant la solitude du samouraï, qui est en fait un tueur, un bourreau plus exactement.

Jeff est méthodique et infiniment consciencieux, chaque geste semble avoir été répété d’innombrables fois et étudié plusieurs heures avant son exécution. En quelques plans-séquences, Jean-Pierre Melville brosse le portrait complet de son personnage, tout, sauf ses désirs, est à fleur de peau même si celle-ci est froide et dure comme l’écaille.

Filmant lui-aussi méthodiquement les manœuvres de Jeff jusqu’au premier meurtre commandité, Melville empreinte au tueur sa mise en scène, non pas dans le macabre mais dans une nécessité de l’évidence et du direct. Chaque mouvement de caméra est imprégné par une tentative de faire vivre son personnage, Jeff. Alain Delon lui insuffle une rapidité de félin, une froideur de cadavre et une mélancolie de poète, tout à la fois.

Ainsi va donc le film jusqu’au moment de la blessure physique du personnage et de la trahison qui s’y dissimule, faisant trembler jusqu’aux fondations les grands principes régisseurs qui le guide. Traqué par la police, un commissaire en particulier, qui met en œuvre des moyens considérables pour l’appréhender, Jeff louvoiera entre les auxiliaires et les agents à l’affût pour exécuter sa deuxième mission : une vengeance impitoyable sur ceux qui ont osé (par lâcheté) le trahir.

Jeff n’est ni homme ni démon, il semble voyager dans un royaume des ombres où il ne peut être atteint sauf si un principe fondamental est remis en question. Loin d’être flamboyant et passionné c’est un tueur raisonné, pragmatique presque détaché d’une réalité qu’il n’emprunte que pour s’en servir.

Servie par un grand acteur et par un grand metteur en scène, l’œuvre froide et policé devient lyrique et poétique, comme si l’essence même de l’humain se dévoilait par le meurtre, comme si le genre policier était un essai philosophique. Captant de manière remarquable l’attention du spectateur, la tension mène à une révélation que le mutique Jeff semble hurler à ceux (se limitant aux apparences) qui croient être ses congénères : toujours se battre pour ce qui meut et ne céder que les armes à la main.

Quand se clôt le film, on ne sait finalement si l’on a entrevu un fragment de vie ou un morceau de mort tant le fin fil sur lequel il s’est déplacé ne permettait un choix radical. Peut-être est-ce là même le propos : dans ce qui sépare deux conceptions inverses, c’est peut-être la frontière qui dit la vérité. Dans le cas de l’Homme la question ne se pose pas si simplement, mais au moins, pour ce Samouraï, elle s’affiche dans toute sa nudité.

The postmodern gangster/hitman film to end all gangster/hitman films. Cool, slick and well made. People like Michael Mann and Tarantino borrowed heavily from this (and Melville also borrows heavily from Walsh, Huston and other classic american noir directors). I can see why someone would find this (or any other Melville gangster film) boring – it’s distilled “genre”, and if you’re not into the film-noir/gangster genre, you’ll probably hate it. 5 stars for me, though.

cool. That word is hardly excluded in any review of Jean Pierre-Melville’s highly regarded masterpiece, Le Samourai, out there. Yes i gotta agree with that. this is one of the coolest looking motion picture i’ve ever seen. A cool actor ( the hard-to-resist Alain Delon, girl viewer, watch out ! you might die by the look of him ) wear a cool piece of longcoat and fedora, doing some cool gun totting action scenes, and speak with a cool gesture. They should put the poster of this film next to the word “cool” in dictionary, so to speak.

But to be completely honest, i am slightly disappointed by this film. The fact that i love Melville’s other, less known film, Army of Shadows, give me a very high anticipation with this film. But frankly, in the end, i prefer Army of Shadows as his masterpiece, rather than this. It’s just not enough substance in Le Samourai that would change me, or affect me, after watching this film. And hate me for this, but i do feel Kim Jee-woon’s fully inspired, Korean version of Le Samourai, A Bittersweet Life,is soo much better and much more poetic in my eyes.

jean-pierre melville really knows how to create a film that defines cool. from the opening quote, the minimal use of dialog (especially the no dialog in first 10 minutes of the film), the stylistic color tones, the music; to the combination of fedora hats and raincoats, the lone wolf kind of character, and the exploitation of alain delon cool aura. not to mention the cool character’s name: jef costello. but for me, the most standout aspect in the film is the suspenseful build up. the pacing is just perfect to accompany a build up that’s able to make our heart skip a beat. oh, and the pretty face of nathalie delon also helps.

but let’s talk about the opening scene/opening credit. for me, from that scene alone we could already determine that jean-pierre melville is capable at making something so incredibly cool. imagine this, a small damp room with a birdcage in the middle of it. the opening credit is appearing below the birdcage with a font that you have never seen before. suddenly, smokes are also appearing on the right side of the tv screen. this is the moment when you will realize that there’s a person relaxing in the bed. it’s alain delon himself. then, a quote is placed above the smokes. it reads: “Il n’y a pas de plus profonde solitude que celle de samouraï si ce n’est celle d’un tigre dans la jungle… peut-être…” or in english “There is no solitude greater than that of the samurai unless it be that of a tiger in the jungle… perhaps…” i think that’s one of the best opening scene that’s ever existed in the cinema world. and jean-pierre melville made it with no camera movement at all. let alone a dialog. as for the other scenes, well, you have to experience it yourself.

the using of paris as the location of the film is very suitable with alain delon elegance and handsomeness. i think, the chemistry that appears in this film is not a chemistry between a man and a woman, or a man and a man; it’s not a person with another person. it’s a person with a city. the dark atmosphere of paris that is created by jean-pierre melville has made love with jef costello in this film. yes, the chemistry is that good.

well, i must stop here or i could continue this review into a spoiler for all of you who haven’t see this film. in the end, i must say that this is the coolest film that i have ever seen. the 50s noir and 60s nouvelle vague mash up really does it for me. c’est parfait! merci beaucoup, monsieur melville.

In terms of style, I would rate this very high, but unfortunately some of its details suffer from age. The cloak & dagger stuff just doesn’t hold up over 40 years later. Things like lock-picking with a jumbo keyring holding dozens of keys, or a surveillance bug so big you would have to be myopic not to spot it, or a pro hit man who doesn’t have the good sense to leave a crime scene without being seen by a dozen witnesses… they inadvertently elicit giggles and guffaws. And honestly, what police department in the world has the resources to justify deploying dozens upon dozens of officers across the city just to catch a suspect in a single murder?

A high point is Nathalie Delon as the hit man’s tough-as-nails moll: the way she coolly thwarts the slippery machinations of the sleazy police superintendant is magnificent to watch. The chase through Paris’ subway system is also quite thrilling. At its best, it reminded me of Frankenheimer’s “Ronin”.

Le Samourai is a stylish looking film with some nice jazz music. It utterly lacks character development and is, at least for me, devoid of any suspense or intrigue. The plot is very weak and filled with several scenes that require disbelief, which is a problem for me in such a serious film. Just one example, another man sits directly across from Delon despite the fact he knows Delon is a hitman. Then the man proceeds to put his gun away. I liked the ending, but most everything leading up to it was blase.

Melville began his film with a self-penned fictional quote from the Bushido, the Samurai bible as it were, where he likens the solitude of the Samurai warrior to that of a tiger… perhaps? It’s a neat conceit that sets the film off on exactly the right tone. Like most Melville ‘policiers’ it’s more like a forensic dissection of the lawman/criminal divide, than a shoot ’em up, cops and robbers car chase type flufferie. Mood is everything and the muted cinematic tones and hues speak in whispers where others shout. Melville long held the ambition to shoot a black and white film in colour, and this may be as close as he got.

The opening shot is Jef Costello’s (Alain Delon) apartment with Jef lying on his bed and a pet bird tweeting gently in it’s cage. Immediately Melville undermines the genre with gentle humour, what kind of a hitman has a pet bird? Of course given the existentialist overlay Melville invokes, it also serves as a metaphor for just how much Jef is himself in a cage. The movements are so spare and the dialogue minimal to say the least, in lesser hands than Melvilles it could fall flat. Where modern editing in post MTV age is all about cut and move, here it’s all about poise and stillness. Jef is psyching himself up for a job, meditating himself into the zone he needs to be in to go out and shoot a stranger dead for money. Melville prepares the mood so well that Delon can show he’s in the required state by as little as an adjustment of the brim of his hat.

Melville always makes great play out of details, so we see Jef establish the alibi he’ll need after the job is done. His visit to the apartment of his girlfriend Jan, played by Delon’s then wife Natalie, is one moment when the steely reserve is let down for a second, but it’s apparent that Jef’s path is a solitary one and a girlfriend is a luxury that he can dispose of instantly if required. The job goes smoothly enough, even though Jef is eyeballed by the beautiful dark skinned nightclub singer Valerie (Caty Rosier), and he is rounded up in the police sweep of usual suspects later that night. The Inspector running the case (Francois Perier) thinks Jef is the culprit and sets out using all his resources to nail him. Valerie gets the opportunity to finger him in a police line up, but does not, giving Jef an opportunity to go and collect his pay,but when Jef goes to the meet to do so he gets more than he bargained for. So now Jef has the police trailing him and the criminals he worked for trying to kill him.

The procedural aspect of police work is emphasised by Melville, showing in great depth the co-ordination and legwork required to run a large investigation. By doing this Melville is attaching value to the work, in the same way that Jaques Becker would show the actual time and effort it takes to dig a tunnel in the prison break film Le Trou, it forces the audience to stay in the moment, to build the sympathy and tension and emotional investment in the act. It’s a technique eschewed by modern directors mostly, favouring the short cut or bombast of a special effect driven piece, but Michael Mann certainly employed it to great effect in his masterpiece Heat.

In contrast to the ‘real world’ aspect of the pursuers, Melville creates a mythology of the lone wolf hitman. Where the cops are tied down by rules and procedures, the criminal is like a great artist creating opportunity and improvising with his own innate talent. Melville may allow the ‘plod’ of police work to eventually take down the genius, to clip the wings of the high flying bird, but it’s a triumph of the mundane over the special. The motifs Melville employs to indicate Jef’s mental state and awareness build a picture of an obsessive mind. So sharp he can detect a change in his pet birds behaviour, seeing the mess in the cage caused by a prior agitation and knowing therefore his apartment had been breached and compromised. Jef knows the rules of the game, and after it tips in favour against him, he plays the hand to it’s inevitable conclusion. Jef through his actions becomes an anachronism, unable to exist any longer in the criminal mileau and not able to fit into the ‘respectable’ world of Jan, he resigns himself to the fate of a warrior without a war. Melville has Jef’s Sansho in the form of his mechanic, who wordlessly prepares his steed with fake plates and hands him his lance in the form of a hand gun. Jef goes off for one last glorious windmill tilt, and fronts up to the scene of the crime, to deal with the eyewitness singer.

Melville created an hommage to American gangster film and invested it with an existentialism that breathed new life into an old form. 10 years before Star Wars made mythology an obligitory component in every half-assed feature, Melville was scheming to use those arcetypes
to build mystery and depth with elan and taste. In a masters hands a movement conveys a world of meaning, a gesture speaks volumes and silence can be devastating. This film is the perfect antidote to the all flash and no substance crime films we’ve since had to endure. The past is a foreign country, they made films differently there.

I feel like I could put this film on again right now and watch it over. There’s a lot going on here, many subtleties, interesting characters, great flow, etc. The acting (especially Jef and the inspector) was spot on, with great scene composition, pacing, dialogue, the works. I loved how he was so in tune with his senses – how he could know someone was following him without ever seeing them, or that his house had been broken into because his bird was acting like crazy. There were a few moments in which I really had to suspend my disbelief (ie, when they sent out what had to be 2/3 of the precinct to catch a guy who had only killed 1 person, in a city of over 10 million), but beyond that I loved what the film had to say about solitude, intuition, interpretation of circumstances, and more.