La Baie des anges

This is a kind of interesting film. It has been overshadowed by later, greater works by Jacques Demy, such as Les Parapluies de Cherbourg, but at its heart it has pretty much the same themes - the difficulties of translating American modernity into French provincial life. Moreau has an unusual turn as an Americanised film star, complete with bleached blonde hair -do a la Marilyn Monroe, playing Jackie, a gambler on the Cote d'Azur. Jean, on holiday from his strict father, falls in love with her. This slight plot (that really is it!)is the background for meditations on chance, love, luck, and life. There are some virtuoso cinematic moments, such as Jackie running toward Jean being glimpsed in mirrors at the end of the film. The overpowering score is slightly grating, but all in all it's a charming period piece.

Jacques Demy's second feature is an amazingly fluid, vibrant comedy about love and luck, starring Jeanne Moreau at her (dazzling) best. And she is literally dazzling, in resplendent costumes (mostly by Pierre Cardin) and radiantly blonde. The music by Michel Legrand is one of his best scores ever, as it sweeps through the film, carrying everything along with two basic themes, one furiously accelerated piano theme, the other a softer, more lilting theme played in different variations, but mostly on the mandolin. It's a movie that sweeps you along, just as fast and unpredictable as a spin on the roulette wheel. This is a film in which "black-and-white" becomes a dazzling metaphor, so that the sun-drenched exteriors of the south of France are contrasted with the various interiors of hotel rooms and casinos. LA BAIE DES ANGES may seem slight, but only "seems": it's one of the most passionate statements on love and faith in the modern cinema, and it's a work of true enchantment.

Jacques Demy's "Bay Of Angels" may be the best movie ever made about compulsive gambling, along with the appropriately titled "The Gambler" (1974). It's not "realistic" in its technicalities (winning three consecutive times by betting on a single roulette number happens ONLY in the movies), but I don't think it wants to be; what it's trying to get at is the psychology of gambling, and at that it succeeds (in fact, it shows two different "types" of players: the wetting-his-feet and the full addict). This movie, which offers a rare view of the high and low life in and around the Nice and Monte Carlo casinos circa 1963, has the immediacy and spontaneity that the French New Wave often strived for, minus any of the pretentiousness (just compare it with Godard's not dissimilar "Pierrot Le Fou"). Jeanne Moreau sports an iconic look and plays a daringly flawed female character; the much lesser-known internationally Claude Mann is also very good. It's a minor classic. ***1/2 out of 4.

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.

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.