La prisonnière

Since there is little talk about "La Prisonnière" when ever there is some kind of documentary or article about Henri-Georges Clouzot , It hasn't been shown on TV for a very long time and so I thought it must be a weak film, probably done with a small budget and only half-heartedly because of bad health. Boy, was I wrong! After Clouzot's collapse at the filming of "L'Enfer" he had to refrain from filming for some time. He already had a breakdown earlier in his career and his reputation for being excessively obsessed with perfection was very likely the reason for it. He filmed only every few years because he planned his films methodically. After the disaster of "L'Enfer" it looked as if he had to retire because of his health problems. But he recovered and was able to finish one more film.

When you have seen the documentary "L'Enfer de Henri-Georges Clouzot" then you know that all the tests he had made for it have not been in vain. "La Prisonnière" looks very much like another try on "L'Enfer" from a different point of view. The strange lightning tests he made with Romy Schneider, Dany Carrel and Serge Reggiani and the experiments with shapes and optical illusions, that all and much more went into "Le Prisonnière". And here it makes more sense than in "L'Enfer" since the male character is an art collector and gallery owner who exhibits modern designs. From all we can see of the fragments of "L'Enfer" through "L'Enfer de Henri-Georges Clouzot" it would have been a great film. And since so many good ideas could not be used there, he gave them all to "La Prisonnière" - and it is a great film! There are pure cinematic moments in this film too, and I had a feeling that Clouzot realized this would be his last film and he wanted to use everything that he had not tried yet and to finish with a pang.

Interestingly, many reviewers talk at great lengths about the art and modern designs shown in the film and what it might mean. And yes, art is definitely an important part of the story. But the most important and unsettling element is the strong S/M relationship between Stan and José. The optical illusions make one dizzy and represent the sick feeling that José gets when she deals with Stan, or rather, when Stan deals with her. But you can also read it as a hint that we cannot say for sure who attracts whom. While Clouzot wanted to explore the mechanics and obsessions of jealousy in "L'Enfer", now he takes a closer look at sexual fantasies, power and submission. He goes as far as has been possible in the late 60ies and even a good bit beyond that, which makes the movie so strong even when viewed today.

The perversity of the film is almost unmatched, only "Peeping Tom" has a similar sick atmosphere. The title sequence is so unbelievable obscene, it immediately warns you, better leave now, before it gets worse. "Peeping Tom" opens also with a shocking intro that is unparalleled in cinema history. But where "Peeping Tom" spends a lot of time explaining why the main character is acting this way, "La Prisonnière" never cares to even ask. And while Karlheinz Böhm fools most people with his babyface appearance, there is no denying that Laurent Terzieff looks sinister and dangerous.

The comparison of those films reveal that both men attract the attention of a woman who falls in love with them although they feel bad in their presence. But while "Peeping Tom" portrays the woman as pretty normal and sympathetic, it is "La Prisonnière" that shows that José is in fact just the mirror of Stan and she needed Stan to find out.

Both films deal a lot with pictures in the picture. In "Peeping Tom", Karlheinz Böhm is a camera operator at a film company, he films his victims and keeps the films his father had done with him as a child. In "La Prisonnière" Laurent Terzieff (Stan) collects art and owns an art gallery and takes S/M photos of photo models at his home. And Elisabeth Wiener (José) lives with an artist and works as a film cutter (editing a documentary on sexually expolited and abused women). And there are many references to filming and film making, for example in the train ride at the beginning of the film.

I could go on and on but better watch for yourself, I don't want to spoil the experience.

In France they sell this movie in a DVD-collection called The Unclassifyables. Not without reason, as it is indeed very difficult to say what this movie is exactly about. In my opinion it is an early critical comment on post modernism and deconstructivism – terms coined by French philosophers that became public property only years if not decades after this movie was made. The director sees what the world is coming to - and he does not like it. In this aspect La Prisonniere reminded me very much of Jacques Tati's movies Mon Oncle and Playtime.

Clouzot also seems to have been influenced here by Michelangelo Antonioni's movies Il Deserto Rosso and Blow-Up. Alienation and disorientation are rampant in all major characters. Apparently it is Clouzot's first movie in color - and it is one of the most impressive color movies I have seen ever. This director was always great with surfaces and textures. Here he adds undisturbed expanses of bright primary or secondary colors to his vocabulary. They are prominent in the greatest scenes, a playful chase on a beach (someone pours a bucket of red paint or blood into the water) and a climactic final scene on a rooftop in the center of Paris. In the house opposite the roof, a gigantic, heavy turn-of-the-century stone structure, all the exterior textile blinds are drawn so that it is sprinkled with tiny crimson squares. In a strange way color whenever it appears as a statement seems to mean artificiality in a negative sense, and the prime affliction of the main female character seems to be a kind of a color sickness. She goes through an interesting choice of different dresses.

I think La Prisonnière is a great artistic statement about the end of true artistic achievement. It takes the viewer to a fantasy world in which dreams and desires are bound turn into unbearable nightmares. The quick editing and ultra short insertions had other reviewers describe this movie as „psychedelic". I doubt that a psychedelic experience was what the director intended. I think he rather wanted to warn against the exaggerated input of images post modern society is subjected to. The fantastic, terrifically edited train ride of the main couple at the beginning of the movie seems to indicate as much.

Elisabeth Wiener is in an open marriage with artist Bernard Fresson. His work is part of an exhibition by art dealer Laurent Terzieff to promote his becoming a 'supermarket of modern art' to sell to all the people who are moving into apartments and need something to put on their walls: lots of kinetic op-art. While Fresso goes off with a drunk art critic to earn better reviews, Mlle Weiner accepts an invitation from Terzieff to see the art he has at home. Surprising to her, there are a lot of primitive native pieces, quite distinct from the sort of thing he sells. He shows her his own artistic side, which is a slide show of words from manuscripts, showing the different way that different writers write 'rien'... and a nude woman in a strikingly submissive position. She leaves, then visits him in his office, where he explains that everyone likes to take orders, to submit, to be relieved of the responsibility of making decisions. First with a model, then on her own, Mlle Wiener returns to Terzieff's apartment, falling in love with him, submitting to him.

Henri-Georges Clouzot's last complete movie is another one in a long series in which he makes it clear he has absolute contempt for humanity. Here he attempts to show us why we are so contemptible, how we fool ourselves into degradation, how we excuse ourselves, and fool no one but ourselves. His technique here is a lot colder than when he began to do this in the 1940s. It looked to me as if this was his reaction to Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM except he offers no excuses, no reasons why people are the way they are. He just shows them as he sees them, and allows us to draw our own conclusions.

Opening with the most eerie and perverse credit sequence you are ever likely to see, HG Clouzot's final film veers from claustrophobic mind games to swooning romance to 60s Pop Art psychedelia - without ever once losing the iron grip that was its director's trademark. It's Clouzot, and not the prolific but overrated Claude Chabrol, who deserves to be called 'the French Hitchcock.' Yet Clouzot, uninhibited by the demands of Hollywood 'box office,' was able to plumb depths of misanthropy and depravity that Hitch could scarcely dream of.

In La Prisonniere, he achieves the complete emotional and moral annihilation of all three protagonists. A young wife (Elisabeth Wiener) grows bored with her philandering artist husband (Bernard Fresson) and falls under the spell of a voyeuristic gallery owner (Laurent Terzieff) - who dabbles in kinky S&M photos on the side. If that sounds like a recipe for disaster...well, it is - but never quite in the ways we predict. The flamboyantly deranged Terzieff may, in fact, be the sanest character in this twisted triangle. So how crazy are the heroine and her hubby...?

Suffice it to say that, having produced an erotic and psychological thriller that outclasses any of Chabrol's more famous efforts of the late 60s, Clouzot then enters the tormented mind of his heroine - in a psychedelic 'head trip' to rival Kubrick's finale to 2001. A pity that Elisabeth Wiener (a forgotten 60s beauty in the style of Charlotte Rampling or Marianne Faithfull) never quite suggests the depths of anguish her role demands. Still, the magnificent Terzieff supplies angst enough for the whole cast. And he's not even the mad one...

David Melville

This bizarre opus from Henri-Georges Clouzot has certainly divided opinion, described by some as profound and considered by others to have tarnished this great director's reputation. For this viewer at any rate it is technically accomplished and beautifully shot by Andréas Wilding but remains a rather cold, empty and indeed impotent enterprise that I felt obliged to watch but have not the least desire to revisit.

The master/slave relationship between the bored Josée of Elisabeth Wiener and Laurent Terzieff's disturbed Stanislas gradually turns to a seemingly genuine love but of course in Clouzot's world there is no such thing as a happy ending.........

The erotic element is supplied by the exotic Dany Carrel who was to have featured in 'L'Enfer'. In 'test shots' for that sadly aborted film Clouzot's camera lingers tantalisingly on her cleavage and here he is able to indulge himself more fully. There are those who will find her gyrations in a plastic mac to be either physically arousing or laughable.

Having been denied the chance to realise a psychedelic sequence in 'L'Enfer', the one he has given us here is truly outstanding but Kubrick had just beaten him to it. Likewise the connection between photography and voyeurism had already been handled to great effect by Powell and Antonioni whilst Bunuel's study of sexual fantasy from the previous year was balanced by that director's customary dark humour.

Always plagued by ill health, this was to be Clouzot's swansong and one is intrigued as to where he would have gone from here and how much further his misanthropy would have taken him had he continued filming. By all accounts a softcore porn film was mooted in the mid-seventies which would seem a natural progression.