Masken

The eighties were not that much a great time for Claude Chabrol.Most of the works of this era ,either have not worn very well (les fantômes du chapelier,poulet au vinaigre) or were not themes for him anyway (le cheval d'orgueil,Patricia Highsmith's "le cri du hibou")

"Masques " is probably his best since "Violette Nozières" (1978) and nearly matches the brilliance of the late sixties/early seventies heyday.

Completely unpretentious,it's full of humor,suspense and of course gastronomy (is there a Chabrol movie where they do not eat?).A marvelous spoof on these numerous TV shows which take dumbness to new limits, a detective story,this movie is much fun to watch.

Philippe Noiret,overplaying as hell -and he's thoroughly enjoyable-,plays the emcee of a broadcast for old people who sing songs of long ago,("les roses blanches" ,the most maudlin song of the whole French repertoire,crooned by an old man, can be heard on the cast and credits).By no means a caricature, because, we've seen worse on French TV.

And to crown it all,the host uses "HItchcock presents " music to enhance his horrible show.And that's not all!Philippe Noiret's character is Mister LEGAGNEUR (GO-GETTER)

The emcee is so full of himself he asks a young novelist (Renucci) to write his biography.They are to work in the country in Legagneur's desirable property,complete with court and chef .A delightful gallery of weirdoes hangs around:A couple,Roger Dumas ,a wine connaisseur, and Bernadette Laffont,who enjoys reading someone's cards and less commendable things -to think that Laffont was featured in Chabrol's very first ,"le beau Serge" ,in 1958!-;a deaf and dumb chauffeur;two strange servants, one of them relishes with Charlotte Armstrong's detective stories-like Chabrol ,who adapted this writer twice :"la rupture" (1970)and "merci pour le chocolat" (2000)-;and,last but not least,a strange girl (Brochet), Legagneur's goddaughter(sic).She seems very sick,or maybe someone helps her to be sick?

Actually nothing is what it seems .Everybody hides himself behind his mask,including the director ,who puts on his Chabrol mask this time.

In Paris, the host of a TV show for elderly people, Christian Legagneur (Philippe Noiret), is famous for being a generous man. He hires the journalist Roland Wolf (Robin Renucci) to write his biography and invites him to spend three days with him at his countryside house. Legagneur travels with Wolf by car with his mute driver Max (Pierre-François Dumeniaud). While having lunch in the house, Wolf is introduced to Legagneur's masseuse Patricia (Bernadette Lafont); to the wine expert Manu (Roger Dumas); and to the housekeeper Colette (Monique Chaumette). Then his young granddaughter, Catherine (Anne Brochet), who is ill, arrives wearing sunglasses. Wolf seems to be interested in a woman, Madeleine Chevalier, fishing with the residents. Soon Wolf snoops around and finds dark secrets about Legagneur. Further, he falls in love with Catherine and advises her that she is in danger.

"Masques", a.k.a. "Masks" (1987), is a great thriller by Claude Chabrol with an original story of a brother looking for the whereabouts of his missing sister. Philippe Noiret steals the show in the role of a scum that likes money and poses as a charitable man. The delicate Anne Brochet is perfect in her debut in the role of a vulnerable and needy young woman. The other names on the cast have also magnificent performances. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Máscaras" ("Masks")

precise option for cast. not original policier. but the unique art of characters definition. and a nice story. the vulnerability of Anne Brochet, new version of Audrey Hepburn, the charm of Philippe Niret, the flavor of mysteries old tales are pieces of a very interesting mechanism. nothing surprising, nothing complicated, only visual crime novel created in the limits of classic rules. image of each character - little jewel in Chabrol style, delicate intrigue and the precious details are elements of fine clock. and inspired ingredient for atmosphere. an old fashion movie and little more. maybe, a delight or just provocation for public.that is all.

Masks is a gothic mystery of antique origin, successfully updated for a world a century later. To breathe new life into a well-worn story takes style, inventiveness, and brio - all of which Chabrol, co-writer Odile Barski, and a well-chosen cast bring in spades. The traditional shadows and spandrels of the genre are discarded in favour of a uniquely saccharine creepiness.

Philippe Noiret fits his role as smarmy TV show host Christian Legagneur (literally "the winner") like a glove. His program - in which elderly romantics compete in dancing and singing - feels eerily plausible. We spend most of the film at his country estate, populated with familiars, where he has invited a young biographer to hear his story. This biographer, however, has a secret mission that only reveals itself gradually. The setup sounds implausible, but Legagneur is just egotistical enough to be seduced by the flattery of a biographer's attention, and just manipulative enough to welcome an extra puppet into his theatre, even if he suspects the ruse.

Robin Renucci, as the fake writer Roland Wolf, brings youthful brashness and self-assurance to the role, making him a worthy opponent in this quiet battle of wits. Other notables include Bernadette Lafont, gleefully hamming it up as the voluptuous tarotist-in-residence Patricia, and Anne Brochet as Catherine, Legagneur's ailing god-daughter.

It's tempting to think of Chabrol as a New Wave pioneer who drifted into less promising genre territory. But dig deeper, and you find a filmmaker with a remarkably acute grasp of the upper middle classes - particularly the collusive, self-perpetuating nature of class power. Legagneur is no rogue individualist. He gregariously surrounds himself with like-minded confederates who share in the spoils. To put it more simply: the rich don't rock the boat - they eat veal cutlets on the boat and sip fine wine.

Legagneur laughs easily, with his inner circle and at society. He is a law unto himself, creating a hermetically sealed, ideologically baroque world of his own. This is captured in a memorable image: he sleeps beneath an Arcadian tableau, recessed into ornate panelling - the physical manifestation of his dreams. We glimpse the structure he inhabits whether awake or asleep: a world entirely of his own invention and control. He is a dreamer wide awake. Or, to put it plainly: a powerful fantasist. Years before the world came to understand the true nature of TV host Jimmy Savile, Chabrol had already drawn the silhouette.

The 1980s were a relatively fallow period for Chabrol, but Masks - this opiated flower from an unmapped canyon of dreams - stands out.

A writer comes to a TV personality's country estate ostensibly to write his biography, but seems to take a special interest in the man's goddaughter, as well as another young woman who had lived there before disappearing. He's brought a gun and snoops around from the beginning, setting up a cat and mouse game between the two men played behind the politest of French manners. Chabrol is a bit by the numbers in the sense that this plays out as expected and could have done with a twist or two, but the tension with some of the scenes involving the goddaughter is pretty good. I wasn't as convinced about the love story which develops, which didn't seem realistic or even necessary to tell the story. It was fun watching the mask fall during the TV show though, with Philippe Noiret really leaning in to the performance.