Le deuxième souffle

Jean Pierre Melville was an "einzelganger" in French cinema. He did not belong to the Nouvelle vague (although his career took place during the heydays of this movement), but he certainly wasn't a part of the "cinema du papa" (as the nouvelle vague directors derogatory described their predecessors) either. "Le deuxieme souffle" is not the most well known picture from the oeuvre of Melville, but it is a connecting link between the pure film noir of "Bob le flambeur" (1956) and the more abstract (but still film noir) films such as "Le samourai" (1967) and "Le cercle rouge" (1970).

"Le deuxieme souffle" is not noticeable because of an innovative plot. The criminal who comes out of prison and wants to set some things straight and also wants to make one major robbery before he retires, we all have seen it a dozen times before. It is the way Melville tells this story.

One element you can't miss is the way each milieu has it's own code of honor. Gustave Minda (Lino Ventura) is a criminal who doesn't hesitate for a second when the job requires that he has to kill a couple of people ("Le deuxieme souffle" is a very raw film), but he is very anxious not to be known as a talebearer by his "colleagues". On the other hand commissaire Blot (Paul Meurisse) has to deal with very ruthless people, and in a way he understands them and sees through them. When however another commissair uses violent interrogation techniques, he takes measures to keep his profession clean.

Just like in "Le samourai" the opening scene is silent for a very long time. In this opening scene we see the escape of Gustave Minda and two other inmates. The way that Gustave has to struggle to keep pace with his fellow inmates tells us (without the use of a single word) that he is already an aging criminal.

Just like in "Du rififi chez les hommes" (1955, Jules Dassin) the preparations for the great robbery are shown in great detail. During this preparations Gustave has to hide, after all he is a prisoner on the run. Much of the movie is therefore situated in cramped claustrophobic rooms. To juxtapose all this, the execution of the crime is situated in the most open of landscapes imaginable.

I don't speak French, but the acting and the subtitled dialog are outstanding throughout.

The plot and each situation, each conversation, is completely credible, and follows naturally, yet not predictably, from what came before.

A note to younger audiences: there are no highly choreographed fight scenes or stylized gun battles (though there are fights and shooting). No throw-away romantic interest. No noticeable special effects. No wisecracking. No mood music telling you what to feel.

So, if you're used to recent Hollywood fare, it may seem slow.

But, to this noir-lover, it feels fresh, yet as gritty as a run-down apartment in a hundred year-old building.

Three prisoners break from the prison and the notorious Gustave 'Gu' Minda (Lino Ventura) is the only one that survives. He heads to Paris where he meets his lover Manouche (Christine Fabrega) and his friend and Manouche's bodyguard Alban (Michel Constantin) that take him to a hideout. Meanwhile the smart Commissary Blot (Paul Meurisse) is investigating a shooting plotted by the mobster Jo Ricci (Marcel Bozzufi) and the gangster Jacques the Lawyer (Raymond Loyer) that is murdered.

Gu decides to travel to Italy but he is short of money; his friend Orloff (Pierre Zimmer) invites him to participate in the heist of an armored truck with his friend Paul Ricci (Raymond Pellegrin) and the gangsters Antoine (Denis Manuel) and Pascal (Pierre Grasset) in Marseille. The talkative Inspector Fardiano (Paul Frankeur) is responsible for the investigation, but the persistent Commissary Blot believes that Gu is behind the scheme.

"Le Deuxième Soufflé" is a realistic police story by Jean-Pierre Melville with great performances. It is impressive how I did not feel the 150 minutes running time, since the screenplay is very well written. The code of honor of Gu contrasts with the lack of ethics of the police detectives. The duel between Gu and Blot is another attraction of this great movie. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Os Profissionais do Crime" ("The Professionals of the Crime")

Melville's 'Le deuxième souffle' as many of his other works, reflects the same particular and distinctive style of Melville. The film proposes more or less all Melville's usual themes (relations and tensions between cops and thugs, violence, loyalty, forbidden love and friendship). Melville managed the film admirably with coherent storytelling, masterful directing, slow but infinitely good rhythm and especially his intriguing characters, portrayed by a fantastic cast. An excellent dramatic crime film that marks Jean-pierre Melville's iconic era.

A great watch.

Why do I always care about thieves in heist films, no matter how bad they are? As is common in Jean-Pierre Melville's later films, this meticulously crafted crime film opens with a title card that epigrammatically sets out a foreboding epigram that molds ostensible meaning into the action: "A man is given but one right at birth: to choose his own death. But if he chooses because he's weary of his own life, then his entire existence has been without meaning." It's invariably inhibiting to totally apply these fatalistic, existential aphorisms to the films that thus proceed, but they tend to cast a distinct outlook across the film. I'm not so sure that this slow, deliberate caper, or any of Melville's others for that matter, seeks all of the indications of this quote, but its pretext of fate, mortality and grim, solipsistic judgment corresponds with the essential themes of the film.

Like Le Cercle Rouge, Le Deuxième Soufflé is a nominal saga, an antithetical and composite film in which the life seems as if to impose and simultaneously exhale. Ventura's performance is both innate and disciplined by his claustrophobic settings. There are several instances set within moving cars, less to expand the atmosphere than to show the inhibition of the space they employ.

What frustrates and somewhat detaches me however is that Melville never seems to give his characters any involved cognitive measure. They're characterized and assessed by the black and white of their behavior. Gu is a ruthless, intractable and curtailed presence who gains recognition, even from Inspector Blot, another wonderfully named character, played by Paul Meurisse, who respects his deadly actions because he eventually complies with and doesn't veer from his dang "code."

Much of this 1966 cops-and-robbers film can be explained just in terms of its distilled preoccupation with the reference to the conventions regarding the treatment of Chandler, McBain, W.R. Burnett, Jim Thompson, stylish Hollywood crime dramas, and classic American gangster pictures. Melville's films in this mode have the element of photogenics, conformity to modern ideas and models nourished by a shadowy nonchalance and the characters' affectedly memorialized mannerisms. For instance when a dutiful thug prepares to meet the other gang members, casing the place first, but also anticipating the blanket preconditions of the scene. This dogmatic behavior underscores the salutary definitions of these characters, their movements having a textbook role. You can also see Melville's influence on Tarantino's Jackie Brown when the thug is dramatically pre-performing the differing poses of the impending standoff. Also, it's not until Gu changes into clothing more mindfully echoing that of a gangster that he is allowed to free himself from being so secretive and concealed.

The sullen, inflamed and exceedingly conventionalized quality of this typified film conveys Melville's immersion in the downbeat deliberation of the play of loyalty and destined disloyalty. With this transcendent crime film, as per Melville's usual, complete with another great title, Second Wind, Melville pushes the tonal qualities and gray scale of the image to new levels. The movie's preoccupation with issues of fellowship, abnormally all-consuming professionalism, silence, and duplicity reverberates with Melville's own distinction as an egocentric, tight-lipped, fringe-dwelling figure in French cinema, who despite his success never truly declared participation or involvement in any founded generation or evolution of filmmakers.