Der Schrei der Eule

Patricia Highsmith created one fascinating character in her novel: Nickie, the ex-wife of Robert Forester, here called Veronique. Virginie Thevenet plays her and she is terrific. Seductive, lying, violent and completely fascinating, she is the one thing in the movie that really works. Malavoy acts like a Boy Scout troop leader, May is dull and lifeless and Kalfon is hard to believe as a detective. Only Penot as the beefy handsome coward Soulages manages to rise to Thevenet's level. Chabrol was known for his cold, passionless thrillers; you went to them out of a sense of duty. Wasn't he after all one of the founding members of the New Wave? See it if it turns up on late night TV, and there's nothing else to watch.

I had wanted to buy this one for a long time, but repeatedly postponed it due to the excessive price-tag of the DVD and the criticism leveled at the quality of the transfer (which was decent to my eyes even on a 40" TV monitor, if somewhat dark and with the burnt-in subtitles being intrusively large and bafflingly situated towards the middle of the screen!). Anyway, I eventually took the plunge not too long ago and am extremely glad I did – what with the accompanying Audio Commentary alone proving value for money!

The film is a well-regarded effort from Chabrol's middle period, given added prestige by being adapted from the work of celebrated crime novelist Patricia Highsmith. Incidentally, it makes for an excellent example of the director's admiration for Alfred Hitchcock (who had himself brought Highsmith's STRANGERS ON A TRAIN to the screen back in 1951), building suspense and goading the audience into complicity in much the same way as the acknowledged master of the form – though the noir trappings of the narrative (and, by extension, the expressionistic quality of the cinematography here) actually derives from Fritz Lang, another strong influence.

The plot – reportedly, a very faithful rendition of the novel – seems simple enough at first: a slightly disturbed man (about to be divorced) spies on a beautiful neighbor and, when he finally confronts her, realizes that she is herself essentially unbalanced (being willing to drop her current boyfriend and take up with him!); in this regard, the film reminded me a good deal of PRETTY POISON (1968). However, things get complicated when the boyfriend proves both jealous (though the male protagonist never actually consummates the affair!) and violent (even if he has to be saved from drowning himself when the situation comes to a head!), and even more so when the hero's malicious ex-wife becomes involved.

Interestingly, when the boyfriend goes missing, not only is his 'rival' suspected by the Police but, in a delicious reversal of Chabrol's own LA FEMME INFIDELE (1968), the girl rejects rather than endorses him – to the point that she tragically takes her own life (the panoramic shot revealing her lifeless body amid the tall grass is a brilliant touch). Surprisingly, the latter stages turn into outright black comedy as the boyfriend's repeated bungled attempts on the hero's life leave many of those around him lying in a pool of blood – including the boyfriend himself and the ex-wife in the astounding climax (capped by an ambiguous freeze-frame which leaves the protagonist's destiny hanging in the balance).

Another definite asset here is the well-chosen cast: while I was familiar with Mathilda May as the volatile heroine (best-known for playing the nude space vampire of Tobe Hooper's LIFEFORCE [1985] but who also had an important supporting role in Chabrol's recent A GIRL CUT IN TWO [2007]) and vaguely aware of Jean-Pierre Kalfon (portraying the bemused cop on the case), perhaps the most impressive was Christophe Malavoy in the central part (who proving a veritable magnet for disaster likens him with the lead character of Luis Bunuel's delightful 'non-serial killer' black comedy, THE CRIMINAL LIFE OF ARCHIBALDO DE LA CRUZ [1955]!). This analogy is also mentioned in the Audio Commentary featuring one Ric Menello and David Kalat (President of All Day Entertainment, which released the DVD) who provide a comprehensive, scholarly yet entertaining analysis of the film, its tortuous distribution background, as well as a broad look at Chabrol's prolific career.

"Cry Of The Owl" is one of the most obscure mid-1980s Claude Chabrol films, and frankly, not among his best (I prefer his "Masques" from the following year). It is very low-key, and doesn't ignite - to the extent that it ever does - until it's too late. Mathilda May is radiant and gives a touching perforance, but it is a little disconcerting that this story is based on a book written by a woman (the famous Patricia Highsmith), considering the behavior and, especially, the fate of both main female characters. Then again, you could say that the men don't fare much better, either. **1/2 out of 4.

M. Chabrol has done a strong, creditable job of transferring the powerfully discomforting world of Patricia Highsmith to the screen. Highsmith's characters become moral monsters through a condition of absolute confidence in their own warped psyches. These characters never learn, or understand themselves. Their lies to each other are absolute because they lie to themselves absolutely. No cliché goes unpunished. Characters become moral monsters without losing their sense of rightness. They seem powerless not to act in self-destructive ways.

The film is not equal to "Strangers on a Train" or "Purple Noon," other adaptations of Highsmith's work. But it is faithful in spirit to a novel which is itself not equal to the literary sources of these films. See it with an open mind and revel in the creepiness. Chabrol is a sufficiently great artist to allow another great artist her night cry.

A film described as being "in the Hitchcock tradition" usually means "a cheap imitation", and this French import is no exception. Director Claude Chabrol tries hard to invoke the spirit of the Master by adapting his screenplay from a story by Patricia Highsmith (author of 'Strangers on a Train') about a divorced artist with a fixation about birds (sound familiar?), whose voyeuristic attraction to the unhappily marries Mathilda May leads to a perfectly innocent, platonic friendship between two manic-depressive people. The plot kicks into gear after May's jealous husband disappears; birdman Christophe Malavoy is then accused of foul play, and the film goes to pieces in a hurry, collapsing into a random sampling of routine plot twists before ending in an unfair, inconclusive freeze-frame. It might have been an entertaining whodunit, but unlike his mentor Chabrol takes his scenario far too seriously: you only have to imagine the actors speaking their dialogue in English straight from the subtitles to realize how silly it really is. The film was made in 1987 but until 1991 was never released on this side of the Atlantic, and for good reason.