A Um Passo da Liberdade

Jacques Becker's swan song is a real gem of a film. Le Trou has such an amazing kinetic rhythm to it that one both feels and forgets the claustrophobic environs. Based on a real story turned into a novel by one of the "escapees", the film has excellent casting, wonderful (candel-lit!) cinematography and crisp dialog among its other advantages.

The director was terminally ill during the shoot and was to die after making the final cut. Watching this classic now some four decades since auteur's death, one can only wonder what an artist it would take to demand and achieve such breathtaking perfection in art while combating death at the same time.

Do not let yourself be put off by "yet another prison-movie!" talk. It is too good to be just that. So much so that it could merit comparison with Bresson's "A Man Escaped". A very deserving 10 out of 10.

Before his life was cut short prematurely, Director Jacques Becker created his very personal film, "Le Trou" ("The Hole"). Using mostly then nonprofessional actors, M. Becker elicited extremely naturalistic and powerful performances in a reportedly true-life prison-escape drama set in France.

It was especially interesting to see Marc Michel in his film debut. Made four years before Michel scored a hit as Roland in "Les Parapluies de Cherbourg," Michel here subtely creates a fascinating character. His work is seemingly effortless, yet always intriguing. He stands at the center of a group of convicts planning a daring escape--a group which has difficulty in fully trusting his loyalty.

The routine of prison life as well as the actual escape is done with such detail that the viewer feels part of the action. The black-and-white photography enhances the realism of the presentation, done without a musical background.

Generally a "forgotten film," "Le Trou" is a carefully constructed prison drama, most convincingly executed. It is a credit to both a hard working cast and director.

Jacques Becker's "Le Trou" is one of the greatest of all prison-break films. No film lover should miss it. It is every bit as masterful and tense as other milestones of this subgenre, including John Sturges' "The Great Escape," Robert Bresson's masterpiece "A Man Escaped," and Don Siegel's "Escape from Alcatraz." The meticulous preparation for the escape is a nail-biter, with many adrenaline-inducing close calls. The ringer: Will the newly exonerated prisoner stay with the group and escape or rat on the others? Those seeking pure entertainment or those seeking existentialist philosophical fare will be equally pleased. A memorable movie experience.

Le Trou played on TV the other night, and thus gives me a chance to evaluate it after 20 years or so. The direction is magnificent: Becker was a genius at refining the elements of the story down to a bare minimum. Space is used well; the close-ups of men banging on concrete with improvised tools in a cramped space are very effective, they look like burrowing animals. Ghislain Cloquet was a master of black-and-white camerawork; he shot Mouchette and Au hasard, Balthazar for Bresson, Nuit et brouillard for Resnais, Le Feu follet for Malle, all great films made greater by Cloquet's work.

The endless dull routine enlivened by subterfuge--stealing materials needed for digging and making puppets to stand in for sleeping prisoners is brilliantly captured. If the prisoners are bored, so are the staff--the warden is desperate for some conversation with Gaspard, or with anybody. Geo's problem is a little hard to understand, I thought he'd want to go through with the plan. Otherwise I rate it very highly indeed.

This most powerful of escape stories is a wonderful exposition of the most basic human qualities, ingenuity and cooperation, and the innate drive toward freedom that brings these qualities into being.

While the theme of transcendence is certainly present (although not be-labored) as in A MAN ESCAPED, it is interesting that, in direct contrast to Bresson's work, transcendence is here achieved through work WITH others on a task. The inmates form a unique brotherhood through their joint reliance. This allows them to be IN the prison while not OF it and is quietly visible from the early moments of the film. We see this group bond deepened through each risk taken, each chisel blow against a concrete wall, and we become emotionally tied to the characters' quest simply through observing their effort (it is amazing how dramatic hammering away at a concrete wall can be). No verbal exposition is necessary, no creation of characters and their pasts intrudes to distract us from their task, which IS the drama.

Indeed Becker's film is as notable for what is left out as for what is included. There are no prison "types" created, his style is restrained to the point of being transparent, not to the point of calling attention to itself as "bare" or "ascetic" as Bresson's is. We get no exposition of the horrors of prison life; just enough detailing of the regimentation, drabness of environment, and lack of personal space to make us aware of the institution's suffocating presence. There are no sudden surprises or plot shifts. Well, maybe one. The shot in the mirror near the end of the film is so surprising that I literally couldn't take it in for a few seconds, I thought it had to be a dream: that's how involved with the characters I was! Finally, there is no use of music to pump up the suspense. There IS, however, a powerful and unique use of sound. We hear, in an almost hallucinatory fashion, every thump, clang, and wail within the prison walls and, during the digging scenes, Becker apparently uses a dual soundtrack combining naturalistic sound with heightened effects of the digger's grunts, heavy breathing, and THUMPS of metal against rock. Again this serves to effectively involve us with physical/emotional effort of their task. The cacophony the end of the film harshly accents our sense of disturbance and loss.

It is also worth noting that the apparent "innocent" in the film is the only one who does not achieve transcendence. While he may legitimately gain his freedom, he remains locked within the bounds of his own ego ("poor Pierre" says the leader of the break). Another interesting contrast (reply?) to Bresson.

Altogether a powerful statement that humans at work can be intrinsically dramatic subject matter, that the most simple of subjects can be the most visually entrancing (and emotionally resonant) and a grand illustration of the maxim that "God (and/or art) is in the details". 10/10