Casque d'or

Marie supports a bonnet made of gold, her hair encapsulates, entwines and folds, she's a hoodlum's fancy doll, not the happiest of moll, but then Georges Manda starts to dance, and takes a hold. A few days later theirs a fight behind a bar, the two adversaries will scrap and fight and spar, with a blade casually tossed, by Leca, the gangster boss, leaving one with injuries, that will not scar.

Still an engrossing tale of love, honour and deceit, all centred around Marie, beautifully portrayed and performed by Simone Signoret, as she tries to escape the gangs and back alleys of Paris for a man she's recently fallen for.

Jacques Becker was an artist and a director. His legacy is a trilogy of masterpieces: "Casque d'Or", "Touchez pas au Grisbi", "Le Trou", three luminous instances of cinema as art.

The linear story of "Casque d'Or" has the neatness of a Maupassant's tale. We are transferred into a most glorious epoch for French culture and art: the decline of the 19th century, the age of Impressionism. Marie (Simone Signoret) is a blond beauty, a cheerful "lost woman". She's the girl-friend of a member of a gang of small-time but ruthless criminals. She falls in first-sight-love with George Manda (Serge Reggiani) a former crook, now a honest carpenter. Predictable troubles ensue...

The atmosphere of the epoch is wonderfully recreated, with a black-and-white photography of indescribable beauty. An Impressionist Master behind the camera couldn't have done better. And, in fact, Becker was a favorite "student" of director Jean Renoir, Auguste Renoir's son. Becker's characteristic narrating style is nostalgic, serene, gently ironic. He deliberately avoids over-dark tones in his representation of the underworld, even in the middle of tragic events.

Simone Signoret is a charismatic presence on the screen: outstanding is her use of body-language to draw Marie's character, both a romantic enamoured woman and a cynical harlot. Reggiani is excellent as the laconic, tough Manda: he utters some twenty words along the whole movie, yet we perfectly understand his peculiar honor code, his profound love for Marie, his unselfish devotion to friendship. Splendid is Leca (Claude Dauphin), the boss of the gang, officially a respectable well-off wine-dealer: proficient, cool-headed, extremely cunning and Machiavellian, always ready to betray his own men to pursue his dirty purposes. Indeed, great care is paid to the design of all characters, with superb acting by the whole cast.

Exquisite poetic touches permeate the movie... Marie drags Manda into a church, where a simple wedding (of unknown middle-class people) is taking place. Shortly after, Manda is impatient "Let's go"; and Marie "No, just another minute"... and she contemplates the wedding with a dreaming smile...

"Casque d'Or": a perfect work of art.

Despite the corsets and petticoats and horse-drawn cabs, this lush, richly textured film has more in common with the bleak, fatalistic modern-dress films of the period than with conventional historical romance. The action takes place over the course of only a few days, but in France that's long enough for a passion strong enough to change a life, or end it--more than one man dies because of the bewitching Marie and her golden hair that shines like the sun. The intensity of the characters' emotions and the suddenness of their violence is powerfully countered by the reserve of the playing--of the solemn, laconic toughs and of Simone Signoret as Marie. In moments of great emotion, her slight smile changes to a broad one, but with her lips still closed. There's none of the giggling and wriggling that marked the other blonde Fifties sex symbols, Bardot and Monroe, and countless others since, and obviously no nudity, total or partial, but in her morning-after scene with Serge Reggiani, you can practically smell smoke.

Like Zola's Nana, Marie is neither a villain nor a victim, simply an elemental force of nature. This elemental-woman business can, in French and non-French movies, be pretentious and unwittingly comic, but there's none of that here, because neither Signoret nor the director indulge in any fancy dialogue or vocal tricks to play up how alluring she is--they don't have to. We are always aware of Marie as a figure of enormous strength, with a broad, strong back, round shoulders spilling out of her blouse, and a mouth too wide for coyness.

In an otherwise favourable review, Pauline Kael said that the film's tone was slightly trashy, as if it were saying, of the low-life characters, "Look, they have feelings too." I disagree--the scene of the wealthy, slumming group in evening dress who find the characters "marvelously amusing" show us what Becker thinks of that viewpoint and implicitly reproaches anyone who shares it.

Casque d'or is one of the greatest films about passion I have ever seen. The intensity of the feeling between Simone Signoret and Serge Reggiani, particularly the former, is overwhelming. These people are outsiders from the very beginning, being part of the criminal underworld from which they will never escape. The honest, bourgeois world is permanently closed to them. Children in French secondary school write essays about this film as if it were a classic French novel. It certainly is a classic, and it could not have been made in any country other than France.

After being released from prison where he served five years for an undisclosed crime, Georges Manda (Serge Reggiani), a soft-looking, taciturn man with a handlebar moustache, becomes a hard working carpenter, determined to go straight. When Raymond (Raymond Bussieres), a fellow gang member with whom he served time in prison, introduces him to Marie (Simone Signoret) at a dance, however, the solid foundation he was trying to build begins to come unglued. Signoret, one of the classiest and most elegant actresses, is strikingly irresistible as the moll of a suave gang leader in Jacques Becker's 1952 masterpiece Casque D'or. Considered a failure when it first opened but, after receiving critical acclaim in New York, the film developed a wider audience in France and has now become a classic, newly restored on a Criterion DVD.

Set in Paris in the 1890s and based on actual police accounts, Casque D'or is not an arid period piece or costume drama, but a rich, vibrant, and lovingly evocative work that successfully recreates the ambiance of Paris at the turn of the century. Unlike Melville's Le Samourai which was filmed in near darkness to capture the sullen milieu of the underworld, Becker bathes his film in a dazzling poetic light that belies the darkness of its theme and some scenes have been compared to an impressionist painting. Marie is being "kept" by Roland (William Sabatier), a volatile and jealous dandy and is also sought after by the crime boss Felix Leca (Claude Dauphin). Manda and Marie fall in love but soon Manda runs afoul of the law after killing the jealous Roland in a fight. Leca seizes on this opportunity to remove Manda from the picture by framing his closest friend but doesn't count on Manda's dedication to doing what is right.

Despite being about the criminal element, there is little violence in Casque D'or and it is more of an moody romance than a crime drama, perhaps accounting for its initial failure at the box office. The most brilliantly realized sequence takes place at a countryside retreat where Manda and Marie go for a few hours of happiness together before the inevitable denouement. Casque D'or is a film about friendship, loyalty, and, most of all, about passion and its consequences. When Marie hears wedding bells and drags Manda into a church, all he can say is "not now", but his expression suggests that he knows that their love will be a dream that fades into dawn.