Le mystère de la chambre jaune

Bizarre mystery crime novel from France

From 1907 onwards, the successful writer Gaston Leroux (1868-1927), who is now best known for "The Phantom of the Opera" (1910), published several crime novels with the reporter Joseph Rouletabille (Denis Poladyles) as a cheeky investigator. "The Yellow Room" is the first case in which Rouletabille's assistant Sainclair (Jean-Noel Broute) is introduced.

The present film by Bruno Poladyles (brother of the main actor) was released in 2003 and was seen in French cinemas by at least 845,693 visitors. Not bad!

The plot itself is very bizarre, tres francais and sometimes lengthy. You have to like that. The spirit of the time in which the events take place is captured well. Great actors from French cinema such as Sabine Azema, Pierre Arditi, Claude Rich, Olivier Gourmet and Michael Lonsdale take part.

Highly recommended for fans of Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle!

Gaston Leroux's 'Le mystere de la chambre jaune' is one of the most famous detective novels in the locked-room whodunit genre. Agatha Christie herself considered it the masterpiece of the genre. It has had several screenings, on large and small screens. This one, from Bruno Podalydès, from 2005, has a special charm, because the French director introduced quite a few changes of style and story that at one point but risked diverting the interest from the police intrigue itself. In the end, however, I think he managed to balance cinema with mystery and the result is a pleasant and interesting film.

Many readers and viewers probably know the story, and it is a shame to spoil the pleasure of those who do not know it by telling too much. The intrigue takes place in early 20th century France in a mansion that belongs to an eccentric scientist and to his daughter. A murder attempt takes place and the investigation is entrusted to a famous policeman. A corpse appears a little later. Gaston Leroux aimed to prove that he can write a Sherlock Holmes - like novel and that he can do it even better than Arthur Conan Doyle, so he created the characters of a tenacious journalist and of his photographer who play the roles of private detectives. As most people know the identity of the murderer, the director's attention was more focused on the way the detective story is told than on the story itself.

Bruno Podalydès is an elegant filmmaker, blessed with humor and concerned with style. 'Le mystere de la chambre jaune' (which was followed by 'Le parfum de la dame en noir') was his most ambitious attempt to date in commercial and well-funded cinema. The story in the novel takes place in the first decade of the 20th century, when the book appeared, but the director and screenwriter Podalydès moved it in the 1920s, or at least moved some of the technical and costume details. As in Wes Anderson's films, it is clear that we are being told a story that is not necessarily realistic. Some of the action scenes pay tribute to silent film comedies, and retro-futuristic details such as the solar-powered car add charm. Among the actors I noticed Denis Podalydès, the director's brother, present in almost all his films, and Michael Lonsdale, an actor whom I always enjoy seeing again. 'Le mystere de la chambre jaune' is not a very mysterious film, but it is nice and works quite well in the comic register.

Gaston Leroux's famous novel has been turned several times into a movie. There's a version made in 1930 by Marcel L'Herbier which hasn't worn very well due to an obsolete performance in spite of Roland Toutain's palatable performance as Joseph Rouletabille. A made-for-TV version was broadcast on French TV in the sixties and was a quality one. I visited the castle which was tapped as the main scenery a few years ago! It is located in Touraine.

In the dawn of the twenty first century, about a hundred years ago after the publication of the most famous whodunit in French literature, the Podalydès brothers (Bruno at the directing, writing, Denis in the main role) set about adapting it. They must have set their hearts on this project for they're buffs of Leroux's book. What is the amount of their venture? A classic of the whodunit turned into a quirky and novel version.

The introduction of the film presents a steel ball which by advancing releases various mechanisms before ending on a tiny train which makes its way in the country. This zany device paves the way for the aura which pervades the whole film. It is interspersed with fanciful chains, queer linkings and gags which would make some installments worth of memorable classics (the car which can only work with solar energy; so when a clouds hides the sun, the car is brought to a halt or the trick of the clock in which Jean Noël Brouté lurks himself to watch out for the culprit). The Podalydès brothers' venture was motivated by the rousing desire to incorporate their influences and their passions in Leroux's novel. One of their credentials include a deep admiration for the universe of Tintin and here, it's evident that they tried to recreate Hergé's world without trying to accurately copy it. Thus, Rouletabille's spirit of deduction and astuteness has a strong analogy with Tintin's. Beside him, Sinclair, his photograph, following him wherever he goes resembles Milou. By his offbeat inventions, his scatterbrained and absent-minded part, professor Stangerson is professor Calculus. Robert Darzac, the timid fiancé could be a distant cousin of Nestor, Moulinsart's butler. The mansion of the Glandier also evokes Moulinsart. With all these analogies, Bruno Podalydès' piece of work has the look of a vivacious comic book.

Gaston Leroux penned his book in the early twentieth century but the Podalydès duo relocated the main thread of the story at the time of the Roaring Twenties and it appears that everything in the flick is tapped to try to capture the mentality, the manners of this era, either it is in the actors' probably deliberate quaint acting, the customs, the lavish scenery. It is enhanced by a hint of surrealism (a fashionable artistic movement at the time). It's an eloquent depiction of the Roaring Twenties, a genteel homage to silent cinema and there's no whiff of betrayal of Leroux's novel which has kept its intriguing mystery and its pedantic investigation for our greatest pleasure.

The adjective "genteel" could suit to qualify the cast which encompasses actors from the Podalydès' house: of course Denis Podalydès who works wonders in a tailor-made part for him. In his brother's movies, he had developed the image of an awkward but endearing persona, he stays true to himself. The Podalydès' house also comprises Jean Noël Brouté who acts as a good comic relief (not meant pejoratively) and Isabelle Candelier. Here, earnest thespians made their apparition. Pierre Arditi was a discerning choice for Frédéric Larsan because this actor could convey mystery in a part that required some. Claude Rich also stands out. As for Sabine Azéma, she isn't one of my favorite French actresses. She often has over-the-top performances, but here this drawback has been shelved. Her role is very subdued.

The Podalydès brothers made a killing with this personal adaptation of "Le Mystère De La Chambre Jaune". That said, maybe it won't cater for all tastes. The aficionados of the novel and the detractors of the film will think that the murky side of the novel has taken a back seat. But if you enjoy seriousness and slightness in the same bag, one of the Podalydès' trademark, this one is for you.

Interesting comical actor direction... But nothing even close to the wit that we can read in the book. Another one of those sad cases where the book, much longer than a 2-hour adaptation would allow, is twice more interesting than the movie. And it's always sad, for someone who read the book before, to notice that they didn't hesitate to remove most of the secondary plot lines, and even change the configuration of the infamous "Yellow Room" (which was very important to the plot).

But my worst worry would be for some of the actors they hired. Father Jacques is played by a man with an accent (what a stupid idea!) and a very bad actor. But even worse is Robert Darzac -- described as elegant and charming in the book, he also wears a mustache... Which he doesn't in the movie. Of course, the movie also forgets to render him as even remotely elegant or charming. And did I mention he's a very bad actor too? Well, maybe he just did what he was asked to do... Then it's probably the director's fault.

Do yourself a favor and read the book. It's excellent (and basically the book that inspired Agatha Christie in her youth), and doesn't need any of these fancy "inventions" that plague the movie.

What to do when you encounter something like this? Its so remarkably perfect in one dimension and so busted in another, so horribly mangled.

What's screwed is the actual mystery, how it is spun and "explained." There's a reason why the standard form concentrates the solution in a blast at the end, perhaps with some visual recall and recreation of what we have seen and puzzled over.

Here, fully a third of the movie is "explanation," and oh lord is it tedious. Early in the explanation we simply stop caring. After this ended, I couldn't help recalling the recent "The Illusionist," which handled a puzzle of a similar type with immensely more grace and engagement. So that kills it. There's a last minute revelation, but by that time we have already left the story.

But on the good side, there is such fun in how this is cinematically elaborated. The world that is created is so gently comic, so mechanically articulated that I will recommend this anyway. There are completely surreal qualities: the detective we follow apparently leaves France and goes to America to do research and returns, all within an evening. Some of the decisions of the filmmakers build on the hooks in the book: the accompanying photographer, the dueling detectives, the father of the attacked as an inventor of machines whose elaborate and indirect mechanisms mirror the way the filmmakers see the plot.

The famed title sequence is of such a machine: a ball rolls through troughs and drops and different devices, eventually falling into a toy train that segues into a real train with our four observers on their way to the crime scene.

Then once at the crime scene we meet the father who invents and builds just these sorts of machines. In the train, we are given a clue in how the newspapers are read in perfect sync by the four readers that some symmetry principals will be at work: if we see a father who makes elaborate machines maybe we should be looking for the same or similar elsewhere. But the signal isn't strong enough; even I missed it and I am obsessed with such cues.

So its really odd that the thing is so perfectly structured, with such symmetries that you should be able to just look at the missing reflections to parse out the answer. And at the same time it is so asymmetrical in its excellence: the form of the story so deft in one way and so incompetent in another. Its like visiting a Guarini-designed baroque church. Some elements are garish and repulsive while others are transcendently lifealtering.

Other things to recommend this. The French, let's face it, are generally ugly. The faces chosen for this production leverage that and give us faces that don't try to be engaging by prettiness. That frees the actors to give us characters that are deeper than usual, creating types that have reality.

Also. The woman who is the target for the murder attempts and who is supposed to be about 40 I guess, is played by an oddly appealing redhead. She's the long time companion of Alain Resnais, one of the French new wavers actually worth spending time with. She's almost a prop, as is the only other woman in the cast. The plot depends on the affections of these women being mechanically predicable.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.