La baie des anges

Boy, take Demy away from musicals and he becomes one rather somber director, huh? In other words, I disagree with the previous reviewer, theognis 80821, who described this very bleak study of two chronic gamblers as "fun". In fact, it's so un fun that I sedulously did not buy the tacked on happy ending when Jeanne Moreau's walking ad for gamblers anonymous suddenly and inexplicably decides to renounce roulette for stolid Claude Mann (who may look like Belmondo but does not resemble his acting).

However, until that cloying last scene Demy does not hit a false note as he relentlessly chronicles the toll this insidious addiction takes on a woman of intelligence and sensitivity to the point where husband and child are tragically renounced for momentary highs at expensive and tawdry casinos. And Moreau's great performance ensures that you experience the full ugliness of it. Give it a B plus which would have been higher without that sappy ending and a different actor in the lead opposite Ms. Moreau.

This film enters with a spectacular high speed tracking shot matched by the hyper circular theme song by Michelle Legrand that sounds both like spinning and falling, and which does indeed represent both the spinning of the roulette wheel and falling in love.

Here we have the side of Jeanne Moreau I don't care for, posey, game playing and artificial... the kind of woman men like and women hate... and that made her perfect in this role. (And her performance her is Infinitely BETTER than in EVA, same type role.) What I like a lot about her casting here is that she looks quite a bit like Marilyn Monroe, but is as different internally as anyone can possibly be - which a lot of the world was doing at this time, being bad Marilyn Monroe wannabees. I love that the platinum hair makes her look much more harsh, older, and very false, and that is, of course, the essence of the character. And this film is mainly a character study, with little story and little explanation.

Our leading man is the young naive everyman sucked into her world in all respects. We feel for his every bad decision, and this is a true and real representation of both the allure and the tawdriness of the gambling world.

Without giving anything away, the ending feels contrived, but in this time period, films wanted "endings"... today a truer ending would just go on spinning like the roulette wheel. Michel Legrand's score is great. Like many of Demy's films, this is a dark story of the current day told with musicality and attention to the games we play with ourselves.

I was chilled to the bone, and mesmerized, by the dark crime of M (1931). Then, in the double-feature session, the 15-y-o boy trespassing as a 17-y-o, quickly changed his temperature when the 'great sinner' Jeanne Moreau appeared on La Baie des Anges (1963). «Actress Moreau forcefully demonstrates the verve, style and flamboyant femaless that make her the envy of European sex symbols much greener in years and cooler in blood. Her wicked, winning presence has saved a bad movie from utter oblivion, and at 36 she knows how to turn Bay of the Angels into a one woman show.» So wrote a reviewer (Time, November 27, 1964), and I couldn't put it better; I'm now copying this from my typewritten notes - no photocopier at home, then. That young boy would never enter a casino in his life due to this film, and he tried to see all the films starring Jeanne Moreau. I'm a winner on two counts, by money not given away to casino owners, and by a plethora of good films that were saved from oblivion by this great woman, and actress.

First a note of interest: Jeanne Moreau is in the movie, and she's the star, of course, but she's also a blonde here. Usually, from what I can remember from say The Lovers or La Notte or Jules & Jim it's dark or at least brunette. I wonder if she was already blonde at the time or if it was a deliberate and specific choice on director Jacques Demy's end. Because, somehow, it does add something extra to the character. When we first see her on screen she's being 'escorted' (kind word for kicked out) of a casino that Jean and Caron are at to start gambling, and it's a big scene where we see her arguing and stomping her feet and we barely see her face, just a fury of big blonde hair and attitude to match. It's not exactly the same cool presence one saw in some of Moreau's other big films of the period - and yet when we see her again she is lovely and with that face that charms immediately upon the smile, and makes one feel the gloom of after hours when looking serious.

Bay of Angels is a movie that works best when Demy focuses his theme on escapism, what would appear to be at first a film for escapists, about people going off to rich places like Monte Carlo and gambling away the life savings and having a great time in expensive suits and drinking champagne. But it's also about the nature of this escapism, the danger of it. It's predictable to see that Jean, who comes from a family where gambling is incredibly frowned upon, and Jackie, who at one point confesses that going into a casino is like going into Church, will lose a lot of money, maybe all of it, and keep going in dire straits throughout. What isn't expected is how Demy interweaves this seemingly endless back and forth of the bottomless pit that is a gambler's life (if only seeming like a lifetime in however few days Jean/Jackie are together) and how touching it becomes against the backdrop of glamour. At the least, his film is about something.

The only problems come with a few scenes in the script that drag - the dialog often works, but sometimes not quite enough to satisfy the emotional purpose of a scene. Maybe also contributing to this is first time actor Claude Mann as Jean. Mann would later be featured in Melville's Army of Shadows, among other notable films, but here he just can't hold his own most of the time alongside such a presence like Moreau. It was wise to cast someone young, and maybe not with the most experience, as this kid who goes on vacation from a small bank-clerk job to try and find himself by way of throwing away hundreds of thousands (albeit I pictured more-so, as the film went on, the actor who played the lead in Pickpocket). But Mann just doesn't really fit in, especially when he has to go into big dramatic scenes (i.e. the outbursts of anger against Jackie in the hotel rooms).

And yet Bay of Angels displays a director with an intuition with the camera, a grace and style, and a dazzling sense of music, precisely repetitive, over the shots of the roulette table spinning around and the faces dissolving in and out with it. There are beautiful moments, and it's hard not to take eyes ever off of Moreau, one of those actresses who keeps working today into her late 70s going on 80s but whom one thinks of in black and white only. She had/has one of the great faces in movies, and she's a damn good actress to boot. 7.5/10

Although it may not go down too well with Jacques Demy devotees who enjoy seeing his characters burst into song, I consider this to be his most accomplished work. Not only is it close to perfection and technically flawless, no other film has managed to capture so well the agony and ecstasy of gambling.

Jean is introduced by a friend to the roulette tables in Nice and gets the bug. Initially he exercises great self-contol and quits when he's ahead but all that changes when he meets an addictive gambler named Jacqueline. They become lovers and the high and lows they experience in the casino are reflected in their relationship. Here Jeanne Moreau, one of the greatest of French actresses, complete with dyed blonde hair, cigarette holder and outfits from Pierre Cardin, is utterly riveting as Jacqueline and is perfectly complemented by Claude Mann whose first film this is. Excellent script by Demy although by all accounts he had little experience of gambling. Camerawork, editing and production design are exemplary. Unsurprisingly the score is by Michel Legrand whose partnership with Demy is one of cinema's most rewarding.

The gambler's life with its cycles of euphoria and despair and its dramatic fluctuations of luck, is very often frowned upon. Demy does not stoop to moralising but simply presents gambling as a metaphor for living. What this tender, bittersweet and entertaining piece does is to remind us that in the world of the gambler one law reigns supreme:THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS.