L'enfer

The owner of the Hotel Du Lac, Paul Prieur (François Cluzet), gets married with the beautiful and sexy Nelly (Emmanuelle Béart) and they have a boy. Nelly loves Paul and is pleasant with guests, and the insecure Paul feels that she is a woman out of his league.

When Nelly spends some time with the handsome guest Martineau (Marc Lavoine), Paul follows her and becomes paranoid and delusional believing that she is unfaithful to him. His increasing obsession turns into madness that ends in an announced tragedy.

"L'Enfer", a.k.a. "Hell" (1994), is a dramatic tale of insecurity, paranoia and madness by Claude Chabrol, with the story of a man that lives in hell with his jealousy and brings this hell to the life of his wife. Last time that I saw this film was on 23 April 2000 and the story is timeless and has not aged. The tragic conclusion is predictable and my only remark is the attitude of Doctor Arnoux, who should have foreseen that the safety of Nelly was in danger with the insane Paul. Emmanuelle Béart is wonderfully cast to justify the obsession of Paul. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Ciúme - O Inferno do Amor Possessivo" ("Jealousy - The Hell of the Possessive Love")

Note: On 04 February 2018, I saw this film again.

Note: On 07 January 2025, I saw this film again.

Reality, or fantasy is the immediate question posed in Claude Chabrol's L'Enfer. The man who carries the mantel the 'French Hitchcock' Chabrol delivers a taut, bare to the bones thriller.

When husband Paul (Francois Cluzet) begins to believe his beautiful, flirtatious wife Nelly (Emmanuelle Beart) is fooling around, his psychological demise is quick, and intense.

Chabrol brings us the story primarily from Paul's point of view, leaving many of the ambiguities, as well as the uncertainties of this tale to our own imagination.

From a script of Henri-Georges Clouzot (Diabolique, Wages of Fear) written in 1964, Chabrol updates the original (Clouzot never finished his version due to failing health, he died in 1977) giving it the contemporary setting and dialogue, but maintaining a style of presentation consistent with the thrillers of that era.

I love this early exchange: Nelly: "You're following me, Paul." Paul: "Why would I, is there any reason?" Nelly: "No, but if you keep it up, there will be."

Emmanuelle Beart shows why she is one of the world's great stars. American audiences have yet to have the best of Beart, who's English speaking debut (Mission:Impossible) seemed uneven, almost clumsy. But here she delivers on all cylinders: a beautiful seductress. Calculating? Unfaithful? We'll see.

Highly recommended.

I still think of L'Enfer as a great film, rife with psychological torment and anguish. It may not be Chabrol's best (as others have pointed out), but it is nonetheless very good. This is in my opinion also one of Beart's best performances. The cinematography is terrific, with wonderful contrasts between the idyllic, sun-drenched locale and the dark, tormented and claustrophobic emotional dimension. The plot is somewhat predictable, but the "meat" of the movie is on the psychological development of the main characters, not on "what happens next". Overall, I highly recommend this film to any fan of cinema.

Quite interesting film on obsession (an obsession of jealousy, in the specific case) and on the observation that hell is man-made. I liked the very solar performance of Emmanuelle Béart, while I expected something more from François Cluzet.

In order to frame the film properly, however, one must consider that the original script is from 1964 and that Chabrol went to a certain length not to let us lose sight of this fact: the film is shot in a very 60's technicolor; one of the hotel guests uses a camera rather than a video-camera, and the scene he shoots have an unmistakably 60's flavor; the water-ski scene (the key moment of the whole film) has a 60's pace and framing,... We are obviously supposed to read the film in a 1960's perspective. And, considering the political climate in France in the 60's, and the nature of Paul Prieur occupation (he is a hotel owner, therefore a businessman), I find it impossible not to read this film as a statement of the impossibility of the bourgeois ideal of happiness.

The bourgeois values make people equipped to strive for more, but don't give them the emotional tools to deal with their life once they are "arrived." The feeling that there must be something more, and that this can't be the perfection of life is too easily translated in the feeling that there *is* something wrong (a cheating wife: the greatest shame for the latin male), and in the creation of a personal hell.

It is very significant, I think, that the film was released at the dawn of the "new economy" which, even more that the traditional bourgeois values, leads people to a life of continuous movement, and makes them emotionally unprepared to deal with being finally arrived.

Chabrol will always be Chabrol - sometimes less, rarely if ever more (maybe in La Femme Infidele...). But he's Chabrol, God bless him: love, lakes, bourgeoisie, jealousy, sex, meals, bonhomie, kids who appear and disappear, murderous thoughts, weird surrealism right before the end. You can set your watch by him. Emmanuel Beart is unbelievably sexy. And the film is a perfect illustration of some (dimly understood by me) Lacanian theories: sexual intercourse's dream of fusion is impossible, for example. Having possessed the ideal object, Cluzet knows that, in fact, one possesses nothing. Everything that makes Beart alluring also makes her dangerous in that she freely chooses...whatever she freely chooses. Freely choosing fidelity means that any moment you can freely choose infidelity. So a guy just can't win. That's why DeCordova in Bunuel's El (adroitly cited by another one of the readers here) pulls out the needle and thread. This film has none of the humor and acuity of Bunuel's neglected masterpiece. But it's Chabrol, and he's doing his thing. That ain't nothing...As a study of a man's descent from jealousy into madness, however, the film is powerful and well made but not super subtle.