Le corbeau

There's a scribe with claws who's writing to the town, to people in high office, to bring them down, takes the name of Le Corbeau, that's a crow if you don't know, leaves them squawking, screeching, crying, full of woe. The target seems to be Rémy Germain, a doctor who may offer, abortion (he doesn't), but there's others with secrets, who may have closets of regrets, and dark wings are used, to take a flame, and fan.

A wonderful piece of filmmaking that takes you around the houses and rouses your suspicions on just about all the characters, before twisting and turning, snaking and worming to its devious finale. Great performances, great story, all from one of the greatest directors.

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.

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.

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

Made during the Nazi occupation of France, this little film is truly a gem, and it is a pity that, at the time, its authors and some actors were so badly treated within their own country at the expense of accusations of collaboration with the invaders, and of having made a film that allegedly speaks ill of the French people. This is not what is at stake here, the film could be perfectly set in any part of Europe or even in the USA and would not rigorously lose anything with this change.

Everything takes place in a small isolated village where, out of nowhere, a lot of anonymous defamatory letters begin to appear, signed by a figure who calls himself "The Crow". These letters go on to divulge the secrets and sins of the targeted persons, that kind of thing that we prefer that nobody knows about us. However, the main target turns out to be a doctor from the local hospital, accused of performing abortions and having love affairs with several women in the village. So far, nothing special... but one of the recipients of the letters committed suicide because of it, giving rise to a police investigation.

The film has a lot of qualities, even though it's not perfect. I felt that it starts very abruptly, does not introduce the environment or the situation, and ends in much the same way: it is only in the final moments that we finally know who wrote the letters. In the best noir style, nothing is as it seems and there is no one innocent. We even suspect children.

The cast is very good and does a very competent job, skillfully directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot. Pierre Fresnay is a charismatic protagonist with a good presence and Ginette Leclerc is magnificent, intense and deliciously not naive. Pierre Larquey also does a really good job here, full of personality and intensity. Micheline Francey is an equally good addition, but her role didn't strike me as all that impressive.

Technically, it's an excellent film noir, with very good cinematography and a deft use of light and sets. There are no visual gimmicks here, the film relies heavily on camerawork and there are some really amazing scenes, like when you see through a keyhole. There is also no soundtrack, but the sound effects and sound are good.