Le corbeau

Le Corbeau is directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot and co-written by Clouzot and Henri Chavance. It stars Pierre Fresnay, Ginette Leclerc, Pierre Larquey and Micheline Francey. Music is by Tony Aubin and cinematography by Nicolas Hayer.

We are in a small French town, the actual name of which is not known and is inconsequential. A series of poison pen letters are being sent out to the town dignitaries, accusing them of all sorts of inappropriate operations. The letters are signed by someone calling themselves Le Corbeau (The Raven), and pretty soon the town starts to implode as suspicion and mistrust runs wild.

Famously it was the film that saw Clouzot banned from making films, the then young director receiving flak from all quarters of the Vichy Government - Catholic Church - Left Wingers and others too! The asides to the Nazi occupation of France at the time not being acknowledged until some years later. That very theme obviously holds considerable weight, but it's not the be all and end all of Clouzot's magnificent movie.

Clouzot and Chavance tap into the troubling fallibility of the human race, portraying a town quickly submerged in moral decay. There is caustic observations on the higher echelons of society, a clinical deconstruction of a town quick to cast aspersions without thinking of consequences, while the script boasts frank intelligence and no fear of censorship. That a town so ripe in respected denizens could become so diseased, so quickly, makes for powerful viewing. All are guilty as well, nobody escapes, even the youngsters are liars or cheats, thieves or rumour spreaders, this be a Hades town where negativity runs rife and leads to broken bodies, broken souls and broken human spirits.

Very much a bastion of proto-noir cinema, it's photographed with an awareness to marry up to the acerbic thematic at work. Shadows feature prominently, even in daylight, canted angles are used to great effect, broken mirrors perfectly imbuing the fractures of the human psyche. A number of scenes are startlingly memorable, a funeral procession and a church service interrupted by one of The Raven's letters are superbly staged, the pursuit of a nurse through the cobbled streets is menacing, and the finale is hauntingly raw. Top performances across the board from the cast brings further rewards, whilst simultaneously adding more plaudits to Clouzot's direction. All in all, a remarkable, fascinating and potent piece of cinema. 9/10

Someone unknown sends a series of slanderous letters to various people in a small French town, the motive apparently being to drive a local medical doctor out. The letters are signed: "The Raven".

On the face of it, the story is a kind of whodunit. Who is the Raven, and what motivates him or her? That's the mystery. There's no shortage of suspects, including the very doctor who supposedly is being hounded.

But the film, released during the dregs of the Nazi regime in Germany, contains relevant political subtext and themes, not the least of which is the idea that someone, anyone, can be an informer. Knowing a town's dirty little secrets, the rumors, people's weaknesses and vices can be deadly in the hands of someone with a penchant for writing, and a desire to tell all. What the raven writes is to some extent true. And the truth turns the townsfolk against each other.

The raven, as an anonymous entity, functions as a whistle blower, a snitch, a spy, a secret agent, a kind of Deep Throat. Thematically, the film is dark and subversive.

The film's B&W lighting is noirish and effective. I especially liked the sequence where a naked light bulb hanging down from the ceiling gets swung back and forth, like a pendulum, as two characters converse about moral pendulums of right and wrong, sanity and insanity, light and darkness. Where does one begin and the other end, asks a character.

Although "The Raven" gets off to a slow start, the plot and the thematic import do pick up. Two-thirds in, the film curves deep, both as a whodunit and in its cinematic statement on the issues germane to whistle blowing and informing.

If you liked "Diabolique" and "Wages of Fear" check out this earlier, equally good film by the same director. I was confused a bit by the quick introduction to all the characters, but the suspense is maintained and controlled with precision. The final 15 minutes are gemlike, a shuffling of possibilities, and the final 30 seconds a quick succession of powerful images. If you like whodunits, like Rene Claire's "And Then There Were None" you will like this one.

It is one of films who offers so manz impressive gifts to its audience than is difficult to choice one more significant.

First, it is a war film, courageaous in profound sense, offering the precise message, defining an ordinarz realitzz not easz to be accepted or recognized.

It is one of great works of Clouzot , in which not the author of letters ( the mistery is less obscure than you suppose ) but the revelation, in precise manner, of basic, fundamental truths represents the main virtue.

It is the film, in same measure, defined by brilliant performances and by clear, precise verdict about essence of human nature.

"Beware! I see all and tell all." So quoth the Raven, the pen name of the mysterious writer of poison pen letters that has plagued a small town in France with suspicion, fear and anxiety. Since this film was made by a Frenchman under a German controlled studio during Nazi occupied France in 1943, there is a subtext not necessarily explicit in the film itself, but nonetheless pervades its very essence. In Le Corbeau, Dr. Remy Germain becomes a victim when letters start circulating that accuse him of having an affair with a married woman and of being an abortionist. Both of these accusations are false but do contain half-truths, and it is the unfortunate tendency for groups of people, usually motivated by fear, to assume the worst. Furthermore, Germain is an outsider, in that he refuses to participate in gossip and avoids social clicks, which ironically makes him a target. Soon he will find himself under suspicion and alienated. Since virtually every member of the community has some skeleton in their closet, they would much rather turn their ire on the accused than risk having their own affairs aired by The Raven. And so the drama escalates to a crisis where Clouzot does not even spare the victim of blame. By assuming a position of detachment, Germain has turned a blind eye and thereby contributing to ignorance which only provides fuel for the Raven and the lies and deceit spread like a plague.