ljredux

This film is more notable for the way it punctuates 1962 and the performance it teases out of Jean-Paul Belmondo than for being a typical Melville masterpiece. We can't help but lean into the real urban street scenes - Paris here, New York there, New Orleans towards the end of the journey - and feel ourselves being absorbed into a reality most of us know of but never experienced: One Rochechouart diner's newspaper headlines the precarious health of Edith Piaf, the neon signs of Broadway reference the Cuban Naval Blockade on one side of the street and West Side Story on the other, black & white segregation becomes plain as day as we draw closer to the American South, and so on.

Why are we taking this journey? Because disillusioned boxer Michel Maudet (Belmondo) has taken a job to help cunning, corrupt banker, Dieudonné Ferchaux (Charles Vanel) evade French justice. The banker couldn't fit the sociopath archetype better and - to him at least - Maudet seems like a naive apprentice. It quickly becomes apparent however that he has met his match and a power struggle ensues. Belmondo sidelines us with a performance that breaks the mould almost as much as his lead in that other Melville film, Léon Morin, Prêtre. Vanel is more intense and menacing than I've seen him in any other film, and that is quite something given his advanced years.

Interestingly, the film heads toward a sentimental conclusion that is somewhat out of character for Melville, and although his Direction is notably flawed here and there (I suspect due to language barrier issues with American actors), there's plenty to make up for it. Recommended? Absolutely.

French cities are in tatters as students and workers unite against capitalism and consumerism. Meanwhile, a bourgeois family in Provence bickers over inheritance before its deceased matriarch has even been put in the ground. Milou en mai is rather like a Luis Buñuel film but with the surrealism dialled all the way down. Surprisingly fun.

A six-year-old boy from a dysfunctional home is placed into care, develops serious emotional problems, and spends the next decade getting into trouble with the law while social welfare services fight to rehabilitate him.

La Tête Haute (Standing Tall) seems unremarkable when summarised like this, but it is actually a very compelling film - in large part due to the breakthrough performance of Rod Paradot who plays problem-child protagonist, Malony.

From his sneering disdain towards the Juvenile Court Judge portrayed by Catherine Deneuve, to the sheer physical embodiment of the mental demons that torture him, it is hard to believe that this is Paradot's first film; that he was a trainee carpenter waiting to be discovered just months before production began.

One very jarring aspect of this film is its tendency to exasperate the viewer. Quite often Malony will seem to be making progress only to sabotage it with a senseless act. It becomes repetitive but is almost certainly intended to project the child protection teams' frustrations onto the audience.

And here we find another trait that sets this apart from other recent French films concerned with the rehabilitation of troubled teenagers: It paints the Judge, the Social Worker and their colleagues in a more constructive and positive light. They are as frustrated with the system as the child, but their battle is with the confines and constraints that impede their ability to help him. They actually seem to care.

Very much recommended.