La prisonnière

Clouzot's last film, (and his only completed film in colour), takes him, perhaps, further away from the mainstream than almost anything he had done previously and this, being the late sixties, allowed him a much greater freedom of expression in terms of content. "La Prisonniere", or "Woman in Chains", may not be the late masterpiece some might have hoped for but it certainly didn't deserve its fate of almost disappearing from view entirely. It's not really a thriller but a tale of obsession as artist's wife and television journalist Elisabeth Wiener develops an unhealthy attachment to art dealer Laurent Terzieff after catching husband Bernard Fresson being unfaithful; (she's also doing a documentary on women being abused). Its setting also gives Clouzot the opportunity to indulge his passion for art in all its glorious forms and seldom has a director dipped into colour so imaginatively first time out; this is a fabulous looking film.

Its languid pace may dissipate its potential for suspense but as a tale of a sadomasochistic relationship it does exert a creepy fascination that says as much about Clouzot as any of his previous films, more so in fact; this is confessional cinema at its most extreme which probably accounts for its failure. Had he lived and had the studios let him I can see Hitchcock going down the same road, ditching suspense entirely and leaving just the psychology. There is no denying its brilliance but I just wish I could have liked this more. This odd blend of Hitchcock, Bergman, Antonioni and Michael Powell's "Peeping Tom" finally bites off more than it can chew.

La prisonnière was HG Clouzot's final film and his only in colour. It tells the story of a young female film editor who meets an art dealer via her relationship with an abstract artist. She discovers he photographs erotic pictures of women. Partially appalled, partially intrigued she becomes hooked on his voyeurism and becomes one of his subjects. Its story focuses on themes of submission and dominance, with all three central characters at war with one and other to some extent.

I don't think the message was necessarily altogether clear at times and I think something must have been lost over the years in terms of the shock we are meant to feel at the erotic material. From the perspective of nowadays in the free-for-all that is the internet age, those images that presumably would have caused some shock back in 1968 seem actually quite quaint by today's anything-goes standards. So you do sort of have to remind yourself that this was a very different world back then in order to understand aspects such as this. I felt on the whole that the story seemed a bit under-developed and not entirely satisfying but what certainly did not disappoint me was the visual aesthetics on display. Considering this was Clouzot's only colour movie, it does have to be said that he embraces the medium in a pretty full-on way. The use of colour is rather splendid throughout. The early gallery scenes are visually delightful with much abstract, expressionistic and pop art imagery present throughout, all beautifully framed, while the closing psychedelic hallucination sequence was a mesmerizing example of visual artistry. So, for me at least, this is a film which is mostly of interest from an aesthetic point-of-view as opposed to a dramatic one. It definitely felt like the work of a young director, as opposed to a veteran, and so indicates the boldness that Clouzot had even in his final years. It's the sort of material that someone like Claude Chabrol could easily have been tackling at the time, except Clouzot's film is visually much more out there than anything that young new wave director every delivered. On the whole, this is a pretty impressively uncompromising bit of cinema for Clouzot to bow out on and is certainly one that should be of interest for anyone interested not only in French cinema of the period but of counter-cultural time-capsule movies as well.

La Prisonniere tells the story of Stan, a man fascinated by the concept of submission and his experimentation with his own capacity to dominate. He manifests this fascination through photographing women as he instructs them to undress. When the rather conservative Jose decides she would like to pose for him she finds herself caught in a tormenting struggle between the shame and the pleasure she experiences through the act of submission. Here the film analyses the relationship between voyeur and 'viewed', which at first is hindered by her fear and instinctive prudence but later softens into mutual respect and affection. From the outset women are portrayed as sexual objects as Stan fingers his naked dolls in the opening credits in the same way as he poses his models, as if inanimate. However the images of naked women seen throughout, as well as Stan's treatment of his models, are essentially respectful and adoring rather than degrading. The extended motif of repetition, presented in the pattern and movement of the artwork, reflections in mirrors and the process of reproduction suggested by the photos and the printing press, emulate the intensity and invasiveness of Stans voyeurism. At the same time the optical illusions, played on the the gallery scenes, coupled with their emotive sound effects seem to hint at Jose's mental and emotional confusion towards her role as the servile model. The character of Stan is overtly sexual in his masculinity, authority and seemingly in his mere presence as he appears to cause Maguy to climax during her photo shoot. While he is tender and genuine in his love for Jose, he remains dominant and in control by not letting on to her. I found this film beautiful to watch despite its disturbing subject matter and I believe it is an emotive representation of how women can be tortured as well as gratified through both their sexual oppression and freedom.

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

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.