Une si jolie petite plage

The film begins splendidly, with Gerard Philipe arriving by bus to an out-of-the-way and out-of-season seaside town where it always rains and the beach is always empty. He checks into the little inn there claiming to be a student looking for some peace and quiet for his nerves, but clearly he has a big secret he is hiding, and an elderly resident of the inn seems to recognize him, too.

All this is established admirably, and the mystery and atmosphere it generates is first rate. Unfortunately, once we start to learn more of his story, the mystery falls away and the rest of the film is just interminable shots of Philipe wandering around in the rain and occasionally crying for no reason we can see. None of the other characters have any depth or believability to them, and many of their actions don't seem to make sense. Random generic statements about orphans throughout bog the story down and never add up to anything clear or meaningful. One gets the feeling the creators didn't get any further than the premise before starting making the film and then just gave up putting any more work into keeping the ball rolling.

So the second half of the film is undeniably a failure, but up till that point it's really very good indeed, and a great example of the kind of film noir that only the French could make.

Desolate, melancholy feelings pervade this film, set in a small beach town in the off-season, with rain pouring down incessantly. A man arrives in the middle of the night appearing to want a respite to calm his nerves, but gradually we discover there's more to him than that. There may be no better image for trying to process childhood trauma than walking off into the distance on a deserted beach in the rain, and I loved the artistry with which Yves Allégret told this story. There is a theme of being preyed upon sexually, obviously with the war orphans, but also in the servant in the inn when she describes her time as a miner in Belgium. Meanwhile, the bourgeoise skate by without a care in the world, captured brilliantly in that final shot on the beach which pulls back from them rapidly. If you're wondering how they got that without the camera truck leaving tracks in the sand, look carefully at the small waves in the distance, going out instead of in.

In the summer it's a handsome if undistinguished summer resort. It's winter now, and it rains all the time. Only one hotel is open, and it caters to consumptives. Gérard Philipe shows up and rents a room. He says he is a student. As the movie proceeds it becomes clear that he has been here before; he was the boy who did all the unwelcome chores and was beaten by the owner. The woman he ran away with, a famous singer, has been murdered. It's like HOTEL DU NORD, run by a sour Jane Marken.

What comes after poetic realism fails? What movie can you make when there is no G*d, no fate driving lives, because he is an old man, dying of tuberculosis? What happens, as one character remarks, there is no love, so you should take advantage of it? You get film noir, of course, but film noir is about crime and evil. How do you make a movie about love when there is no such thing, when Madeleine Robinson wants to help, when Philipe wants to help, but no one can help? This despairing movie examines that question, and it does so very well in its own, bleak way.

This title of this film, SUCH A PRETTY LITTLE BEACH (in the original, UNE SI JOLIE PETITE PLAGE) is ironic. The story is a very sad one. The film is an intensely moody and profoundly atmospheric French film noir. It is set in 1949 (the year of its release), and a young man returns to a tiny seaside French town on the Atlantic coast, near the town of Berck (which is mentioned in the dialogue as being nearby, and the location may thus be Cayeux sur Mer). In summer time it has 'a pretty beach', though not such a little one, as it stretches a long way. But it is winter, it is pouring with heavy rain day after day, and the weather is non-stop gloom. There are still defence fortifications along the beach, and a decaying blockhouse for machine guns, called a cabin, which is a hideaway of another young man who works in the small hotel in the town. The star of the film is the 27 year-old Gérard Philipe. He is silent, thoughtful, and preoccupied. He takes a room in the hotel. An old man is sitting in the hotel's bar and restaurant paralyzed by a stroke and unable to speak. He is the now disabled owner of the hotel. It is plain that he is startled and recognises Philipe, but he can say nothing, and Philipe tries to ignore him. A prolonged air of mystery pervades this film, as we wonder who Philipe is, why he has come to this strange out of the way place in such horrid weather, and why he wishes to say so little. It becomes obvious that he has been there before and knows the place well, but only the man with the stroke knows who he is. Philipe strolls along the beach, remembering his earlier time there. He visits the little cabin, and it is clear that it was once his own hideaway. We begin to realize that he, like the new boy, is one of the many war orphans who were fostered to people like the hotelier and effectively became slave labourers in their own country. The film is a savage attack on the system which permitted the nationwide exploitation and abuse of the state orphans. The new boy is in a state of constant misery, and the same had been true of Phiiipe, who we discover left five years before. Philipe tries to befriend the new boy and show sympathy for him, but the boy cannot accept it, and shies away. In the small hotel they keep playing a 78 rpm record of a French chanteuse singing a song in the style of Edith Piaf. This obviously upsets Philipe, who knows it well and does not want to hear it. Later in the story, he ends up smashing it in a rage. We eventually learn that he had been the 'slave boy' orphan in this very same hotel five years earlier. But the singer whom we have heard on the record stopped by, picked him up, and took him to Paris with her as her young lover. Philipe hated every minute of it, and after five years of miserable subservience to the woman, he has killed her. He has gone on the run, but having nowhere to run to, he has gone back to the only place he formerly knew, the little hotel which he had also hated, but at least it had once been the only thing he could call a home. The murder is widely reported in the newspapers and the police are looking for him. A young woman who works in the hotel helps him, as does a local garage mechanic. Will he accept their help and flee across the border into Belgium and be safe, as they urge him to do? Or will the power of the woman who 'owned' him overwhelm his ability to save himself, and thus destroy him in the end? This film is brilliantly directed by Yves Allegret, and it conveys such a powerful force of anguish and suffering in so few words that it is a work of directorial genius. The script, written by Allegret's frequent collaborator Jacques Sigurd, is a masterpiece of cinematic writing. The cinematography by Henri Alekan is pure visual and compositional genius, and it is just as well that the film is in black and white, because that intensifies the mood enormously. The performances are excellent, and every aspect of the production is successful. Gérard Philipe died tragically young at the age of only 36 of liver cancer. His loss was a tremendous blow to the French cinema, for he was one of the finest male presences ever to appear on the French screen. This film has been restored by Pathé, is now in Blu-Ray with English subtitles, and should be seen by all those interested in film noir, with the caution that it is highly sophisticated, deeply sombre, and exudes more melancholy than all the leopards in cages in all the zoos of the world. No one will be cheered up by this sad and brooding film, but for those who appreciate the art of the cinema, it is a wonder.

It's 1948,the French "nouvelle vague" is yet to come,and nevertheless "une si jolie petite plage" seems to announce the era. Gerard Philippe's character might be the missing link between Carné's desperate characters of the thirties ("le jour se lève","Quai des brumes")and the mistreated rebels of the late fifties/early sixties(Truffaut's Antoine Doinel ,Franju's "la tête contre les murs" hero). The landscape has rarely been so depressing that in this Allégret's masterwork;like Poe's "Usher house",it seems to influence the characters,to rub off on the hero .These desolate shores never seem to see the sun,the inn itself is hostile .For the hero,this is the end of the road,he has become a murderer,and having lost all his illusions,he comes back to this eating-house where he used to work as a child (he was an orphan)As the rain which keeps falling down,bad luck is here to stay:a young boy ,an orphan too,is working now in this miserable place and the hero urges him not to accept this miserable life with no future in sight,but in vain.The servant (Madeleine Robinson) tries to do the same for the young man whom she loves.All in vain.In the last pictures,a breathtaking tracking out takes us faraway from this doomed place as if the director himself wanted to escape such a darkness.Gérard Philippe used to regard this film noir as one of his very best.