La tête d'un homme

Director Julien Duvivier pulls all the stops in this Georges Simenon crime story with a dazzling display of film language and a pair of two intense performances years ahead of their time in A Man's Head. Accessing all the tools at his disposal Duvivier presents us with one very stylish mystery with some very taut moments.

Gaston Jaquet (Willy Feriere) is a near do well aristocratic poser with a greedy girlfriend (Gena Manes) who has the opportunity to off a rich relative in Versailles. They see it through and then are blackmailed by the killer (Valery Inkijinoff) who frames someone else (Alexandre Rigneault). Enter famed inspector Maigret (Harry Baur) to solve matters.

Whether it his famed close-ups or crowded canvases, Duvivier emphasizes form over content with some bravura editing and tight compositions that not only flesh out a drama but a period as well. His camera constantly on the move, his transitions varied, he gives the film a vitality and pace that never wavers.

As desperate characters Manes and Rigneault are excellent, Inkijinoff incredible in moments while Baur contributes a nice, nonplussed rumpled Maigret.

Such was the popularity of Georges Simenon's Maigret, an indefatigable literary detective who first appeared in print in 1931, that in the span of less than a year three unconnected films were made of his adventures. The first was Jean Renoir's "Night at the Crossroads", the second Jean Tarride's "The Yellow Dog", and the third Julien Duvivier's "A Man's Neck". Of the three, Duvivier's is the absolute best without any doubt. Where "Night at the Crossroads" was disorientating and lacking in continuity, "A Man's Neck" presents its plot with laser-like precision and determination. Where "The Yellow Dog" was cheap and stagey, "A Man's Neck" is artful and atmospheric, modern and expressionistic.

The film begins with a mysterious note found in the pocket of Willy Ferrière (Gaston Jacquet), a penniless scoundrel who likes to live large with his fiancée Edna (Gina Manès). "We will get rid of your Aunt Henderson for 100,000 francs. Send address, key, and floor plan to M. V., general delivery, Boulevard Raspail." Even though not a killer himself, Willy can't resist the urge to go from heir apparent to heir in fact. So, he accepts the offer and very soon the deed is done. Old aunt Henderson is found dead, Willy and Edna are rich at last, and, best of all, the killer, a dim low-life by the name of Heurtin (Alexandre Rignault) has been apprehended. But, what Willy does not know is that he has signed the deal with the devil.

The devil, in this case, being Radek (Valéry Inkijinoff), a terminally ill, nihilistic sociopath who is the true killer of aunt Henderson. Not troubled by such petty things as morals or conscience, he framed the poor Heurtin and is now out to get Willy and Edna. Being that he'll be dead in six months, the money is of no use to him. He wants to play a game. Feel the thrill of the chase. Destroy a man's life and watch him flap about like a fish in the shards of his aquarium trying to put it back together.

And it's not just Willy he'll be toying with. Not content with Heurtin taking all the credit, wanting his perfect murder to be known, he begins a game with the police. Intentionally attracting the attention of Commissaire Maigret (Harry Baur) by his inordinate spending, he starts a battle of nerves with him the kind of which would make the "Columbo" series a huge hit almost 40 years later. The two men, however, are evenly matched as Maigret has more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

And it's not just the plot that seems to be ahead of its time. Comparing the film to the previous two Maigret adaptations it looks as if it had been made 10 years later. Duvivier not only doesn't fall into any of the common traps of early talkies, he utterly subverts them. Unlike most of the films of the era which tended to appear stagey and stilted with awkward dialogue scenes and overused wide shots, "A Man's Neck" is vivacious and atmospheric, featuring several excitingly expressionistic scenes and some really clever and inventive use of sound.

Look at the moody sequence, for instance, of Heurtin stumbling upon the corpse of Mrs Henderson. Shot from high angles and enveloped by long, pronounced shadows it resembles a scene from a Fritz Lang film. Extreme close-ups of shocked, terrified faces and the wild eyes of Valéry Inkijinoff abound as well, none of which would seem out of place in a Mabuse movie. Lang's "M" had only been released in France a year before and Duvivier had clearly been taking notes.

Other memorable scenes include wonderful use of sound. For instance, the aforementioned scene of Heurtin's discovery of the body is accompanied only by the sound of his heavy, anxious breathing. His escape from the police is similarly scored by the barking of dogs which continue to echo in his ears. Also effective is the use of a song being sung by a woman who lives next door to Radek. A song that comes to signify his yearning for normal life and all the beauty no longer available to him due to his illness.

At other times, Duvivier uses sound to achieve a sense of almost documentarian realism. A great scene at a police station briefing is underscored by a murmur of a bunch of cops complaining, talking about their wives, and cracking dirty jokes. The scene uncannily resembles the opening scenes of every episode of "Hill Street Blues" and gives "A Man's Neck" an unexpected atmosphere of realism.

Finally, Duvivier also uses some clever back-projection tricks throughout the film using it first to portray the plodding police investigation and then to shoot one of the most nightmarish foot chases I've ever seen on film.

The casting is absolutely pitch-perfect especially that of Valéry Inkijinoff. With his sly, wide-open eyes, untamable hair, and his Buryat features, he is absolutely magnetic on-screen displaying an indomitable intensity the kind of which would become a trademark of actors like Gary Busey and Christopher Walken.

Harry Baur makes for a superb Maigret. Serene and unflappable but with a mischievous gleam in his eye. The scenes between him and Inkijinoff are the high point of the film, especially an almost silent scene in which they sit and listen to Radek's neighbour sing. A temporary truce between two formidable opponents engaged in a deadly battle of nerves.

The rest of the cast impress as well with Gaston Jacquet as a suitably oily coward, Gina Manès as a temptress short on morals, and Alexandre Rignault as a helpless stooge caught up in other people's game. Utterly shockingly, even Henri Échourin's comic relief is not as grating as they usually are. He's actually quite endearing and his developing relationship with Maigret provides the heart of the film.

Ahead of its time, exciting, atmospheric, tension-filled, and above all endlessly entertaining, "A Man's Neck" is not only the best cinematic adaptation of a Maigret novel, it is easily one of the finest thrillers ever made. Julien Duvivier's expressionistic direction, Valéry Inkijinoff's complex and compelling performance, and a superb plot from Georges Simenon have perfectly conspired to make it that.

French crime drama from director Julien Duvivier, based on a novel by Georges Simenon starrs Harry Baur as police Chief Inspector Maigret who's leading the investigation of the murder of a wealthy old woman stabbed in her home. The case leads to creepy, terminally-ill medical student Radek (Valery Inkijinoff) who sees this as his chance to a leave a mark on the world.

I was impressed by the odd-looking Inkijinoff, even if his character doesn't always quite make sense. Director Duvivier utilizes a number of novel cinematic techniques, such as, instead of having an investigator move from location to location, he is shown addressing people on a projected screen, with the projection changing locations. It's a disconcerting way of showing location changes. This was an interesting police film, a bit ahead of its time, and any chance to see Baur is worth taking.

Such was the popularity of Georges Simenon's Maigret, an indefatigable literary detective who first appeared in print in 1931, that in the span of less than a year three unconnected films were made of his adventures. The first was Jean Renoir's "Night at the Crossroads", the second Jean Tarride's "The Yellow Dog", and the third Julien Duvivier's "A Man's Neck". Of the three, Duvivier's is the absolute best without any doubt. Where "Night at the Crossroads" was disorientating and lacking in continuity, "A Man's Neck" presents its plot with laser-like precision and determination. Where "The Yellow Dog" was cheap and stagey, "A Man's Neck" is artful and atmospheric, modern and expressionistic.

The film begins with a mysterious note found in the pocket of Willy Ferrière (Gaston Jacquet), a penniless scoundrel who likes to live large with his fiancée Edna (Gina Manès). "We will get rid of your Aunt Henderson for 100,000 francs. Send address, key, and floor plan to M. V., general delivery, Boulevard Raspail." Even though not a killer himself, Willy can't resist the urge to go from heir apparent to heir in fact. So, he accepts the offer and very soon the deed is done. Old aunt Henderson is found dead, Willy and Edna are rich at last, and, best of all, the killer, a dim low-life by the name of Heurtin (Alexandre Rignault) has been apprehended. But, what Willy does not know is that he has signed the deal with the devil.

The devil, in this case, being Radek (Valéry Inkijinoff), a terminally ill, nihilistic sociopath who is the true killer of aunt Henderson. Not troubled by such petty things as morals or conscience, he framed the poor Heurtin and is now out to get Willy and Edna. Being that he'll be dead in six months, the money is of no use to him. He wants to play a game. Feel the thrill of the chase. Destroy a man's life and watch him flap about like a fish in the shards of his aquarium trying to put it back together.

And it's not just Willy he'll be toying with. Not content with Heurtin taking all the credit, wanting his perfect murder to be known, he begins a game with the police. Intentionally attracting the attention of Commissaire Maigret (Harry Baur) by his inordinate spending, he starts a battle of nerves with him the kind of which would make the "Columbo" series a huge hit almost 40 years later. The two men, however, are evenly matched as Maigret has more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

And it's not just the plot that seems to be ahead of its time. Comparing the film to the previous two Maigret adaptations it looks as if it had been made 10 years later. Duvivier not only doesn't fall into any of the common traps of early talkies, he utterly subverts them. Unlike most of the films of the era which tended to appear stagey and stilted with awkward dialogue scenes and overused wide shots, "A Man's Neck" is vivacious and atmospheric, featuring several excitingly expressionistic scenes and some really clever and inventive use of sound.

Look at the moody sequence, for instance, of Heurtin stumbling upon the corpse of Mrs Henderson. Shot from high angles and enveloped by long, pronounced shadows it resembles a scene from a Fritz Lang film. Extreme close-ups of shocked, terrified faces and the wild eyes of Valéry Inkijinoff abound as well, none of which would seem out of place in a Mabuse movie. Lang's "M" had only been released in France a year before and Duvivier had clearly been taking notes.

Other memorable scenes include wonderful use of sound. For instance, the aforementioned scene of Heurtin's discovery of the body is accompanied only by the sound of his heavy, anxious breathing. His escape from the police is similarly scored by the barking of dogs which continue to echo in his ears. Also effective is the use of a song being sung by a woman who lives next door to Radek. A song that comes to signify his yearning for normal life and all the beauty no longer available to him due to his illness.

At other times, Duvivier uses sound to achieve a sense of almost documentarian realism. A great scene at a police station briefing is underscored by a murmur of a bunch of cops complaining, talking about their wives, and cracking dirty jokes. The scene uncannily resembles the opening scenes of every episode of "Hill Street Blues" and gives "A Man's Neck" an unexpected atmosphere of realism.

Finally, Duvivier also uses some clever back-projection tricks throughout the film using it first to portray the plodding police investigation and then to shoot one of the most nightmarish foot chases I've ever seen on film.

The casting is absolutely pitch-perfect especially that of Valéry Inkijinoff. With his sly, wide-open eyes, untamable hair, and his Buryat features, he is absolutely magnetic on-screen displaying an indomitable intensity the kind of which would become a trademark of actors like Gary Busey and Christopher Walken.

Harry Baur makes for a superb Maigret. Serene and unflappable but with a mischievous gleam in his eye. The scenes between him and Inkijinoff are the high point of the film, especially an almost silent scene in which they sit and listen to Radek's neighbour sing. A temporary truce between two formidable opponents engaged in a deadly battle of nerves.

The rest of the cast impress as well with Gaston Jacquet as a suitably oily coward, Gina Manès as a temptress short on morals, and Alexandre Rignault as a helpless stooge caught up in other people's game. Utterly shockingly, even Henri Échourin's comic relief is not as grating as they usually are. He's actually quite endearing and his developing relationship with Maigret provides the heart of the film.

Ahead of its time, exciting, atmospheric, tension-filled, and above all endlessly entertaining, "A Man's Neck" is not only the best cinematic adaptation of a Maigret novel, it is easily one of the finest thrillers ever made. Julien Duvivier's expressionistic direction, Valéry Inkijinoff complex and compelling performance, and a superb plot from Georges Simenon have perfectly conspired to make it that.

A thoroughly enjoyable crime drama from Julien Duvivier which had it all for me - the atmosphere of smoky French cafes, a clever plot with its wrinkle in a murder for hire scheme, a fantastic villain (Valéry Inkijinoff), very nice camera work and editing, and the warbling of a plaintive song by Missia, giving Édith Piaf a run for her money. It felt ahead of its time and Hitchcockian (as overused as that comparison is), but at the same time, has that wonderful sense of place in 1930s France. I loved the flirtation and the little references sprinkled into the script, e.g. to the William Desmond Taylor murder, Louis XIV's "little country cottage," and the scrawl on the wall saying "Don't shoot the piano player, he's doing the best he can." I also loved the cat and mouse game with the detective (Harry Baur). One to seek out.