Stavisky...

Irresistible charm and talent helps Serge Alexandre alias Stavisky, small-time swindler, to make friends with even most influential members of French industrial and political elite during the early 30s.

The film began as a commission by Jean-Paul Belmondo to the screenwriter Jorge Semprún to develop a scenario about Stavisky. Resnais, who had previously worked with Semprún on "La Guerre est finie", expressed his interest in the project (after a gap of six years since his previous film); he recalled seeing as a child the waxwork figure of Stavisky in the Musée Grevin, and immediately saw the potential of Belmondo to portray him as a mysterious, charming and elegant fraudster.

It seems like most historical French films either take place during World War II (focusing on the occupation) or are in some way related to Algeria. This one really has neither, because it is set between the two world wars, with some interesting supporting characters (Leon Trotsky!). I had never heard of Stavisky, but now I'd be curious to know more (despite having no real passion for French history).

Not least of the selling points for this movie is the chance to see Charles Boyer back on his own turf after making a fortune and a reputation in Hollywood. Perhaps best known for his refusal to 'speak' to a cockroach in Mitchell Liesen's 'Hold Back The Dawn', following which screenwriters Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett truncated his part and 'threw' the movie to Olivia de Havilland, Boyer was nevertheless a sensitive man, as well he might be with a philosophical degree from the Sorbonne who, rather than go on living without his wife, committed suicide two days after her death. With 20-20 hindsight it's tempting to look for parallels here - Stavisky was made four years prior to Boyer's suicide and he made only a further two on-screen appearances - in respect of Stavisky topping himself in the 12th reel but speculation aside Boyer does score heavily as what might be described as a thoroughbred who's been nobbled. He cheerfully pisses away his 'old money' in pursuit of the good life but when the chips are down he remains resolutely loyal to the lovable rogue who has lied to him blatantly.

Any film that features Francois Perier can't be all bad and here again he lends gravitas to an essentially lightweight project. All the production values are out of the right bottle and nostalgists will have a field day. The jury's still out on Belmondo but the film itself is well worth seeing. 6/10

Unusually for Alain Resnais he has opted for the superficial here and by his own admission has gone for 'theatricality'. It cannot fail to look good with Sacha Vierny behind the camera and Jacques Saulnier as designer but beneath the glitz, the glamour and Stephen Sondheim's trite score, we are left with a vapid and empty exercise. Should 'style over substance' appeal then this is definitely your tasse de thé.

The director was reluctant to entitle this piece 'The Stavisky Affair' as this would presumably have obliged him to show the far-reaching consequences, both political and economic, that resulted from Stavisky's massive stock swindle. He has however chosen to insert a bizarre sub-plot involving the exiled Leon Trotsky which contributes nothing whatsoever dramatically and merely serves to advertise Monsieur Resnais' leftist credentials.

Stavisky himself was a sociopathic, narcissistic con-man, the type that proliferates in the murky world of Finance, but is here played by Jean-Paul Belmondo, always mindful of his image, as a gentleman thief. He is very, very good in the role but Jorge Semprún's script renders him little more than a cipher. The same might apply to the other insubstantial and shadowy characters, played by Francois Périer, Michel Lonsdale, a beautifully costumed Anny Duperey and a singularly creepy Claude Rich.

The most fully drawn character is Baron Jean Raoul, not least because he is portrayed by the splendid Charles Boyer who simply saunters away with the film. This represesents a dawn in the careers of Gérard Depardieu and Nils Arestrup but alas a sunset in that of Monsieur Boyer. The passing of this immaculate, consummate artiste marked the end of an era.

I didn't realize, until I went to Saulnier's page, just how much my experience of French film of the 1960's and 70's was shaped by this man's vision. He was production designer or art designer for Les Cousins and A double tour (Chabrol); Les Amants and Le Voleur (Malle); Marienbad, Muriel, La Guerre est finie, Providence as well as Stavisky... (Resnais); Le Chat and La veuve Couderc (Granier-Deferre). As well as his tremendous work on these art-house films, he worked on box-office successes like French Connection II, What's New, Pussycat and Le Clan des Siciliens.

I am discussing the art direction and the lovely costumes by Jacqueline Moreau (Anny Duperey looks ravishing in those gowns--and that jewelry!) because I find little else to talk about in this glacial exercise in political cinema. Characters mutter about bringing down the left-wing Daladier government and effecting a fascist takeover of power; it's as though Stavisky's fiscal film-flammery is just a side show, when in fact it's the central story. Why do we see Trotsky in two scenes, and why does he never speak? The idea of Trotsky remaining silent as his future is being discussed--that's startling. A simple check of the history of the time will tell you that the Front populaire triumphed in the June 1936 election, so there was no fascist takeover.

Happily, there is fine acting from Charles Boyer (it's one of his finest roles) and Francois Perier as Stavisky's adviser--one of the toughest jobs anybody could have, as it involves giving sage advice to a wild-eyed dreamer. Silvia Badescu has an impressive scene as a young Communist actress who rehearses a scene with Belmondo.

For the first hour or more you keep stumbling - the movie s surface looks like a period romp, helped by Sondheim s elegantly quizzical score, but the narrative is fragmented and frustratingly hard to follow. But as it takes shape (with Resnais pulling a Vertigo by tipping us off on Stavisky s fall about two thirds of the way in) you realize the subtlety of his design - his earlier formal and temporal experiments are incorporated almost seamlessly here into a lush cinematic package. Resnais spends little time on the usual raw material of the genre: the fragility of Stavisky s position becomes apparent almost immediately, and Resnais shows how the myth of the gentleman thief always had to be a sham - emotionally, sociologically and politically. Power is always contingent on the cooperation of others, and thus always endangered. As endangered, indeed, as our confidence in our sense of time and space - in the closing stretch Resnais moves superbly between events before and after Stavisky s death: the man (a spectre; a figure of several manufactured identities) recedes as the overall design takes precedence. The final image though is purely elegiac and nostalgic; perhaps for the art as well as for the man.