Les portes de la nuit

Usually I don't comment on previous comments however misguided or uninformed they may be but in this case I must refer to the only other comment that has been posted if only to explain to our Canadian correspondent the difference between an individual song heard within a movie and a movie 'score'. The score of a given film embraces every note of background music from beginning to end credits and whilst on occasion (In 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' for example composer Hank Mancini wrote an individual song, 'Moon River', with lyrics by Johnny Mercer, which Audrey Hepburn sang at one point) an individual song may be highlighted it is erroneous to refer to that song as the 'score' of the film (to continue with the BAT illustration, Mancini's background score was, at times, lilting and some time later a second single song, 'Lovers In New York' was published, using Mancini's background music). Whilst it is true that scriptwriter Jacques Prevert's poem, Les Feuilles Mortes, set to music most memorably by long-time collaborator Joseph Kosma, IS heard (though not to completion) in the film it is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a 'score'. As it happens a second Prevert poem, Les Enfants qui s'aiment (Children Who Love) is also heard in snatches in this great movie though ironically neither is sung by Yves Montand, who went on to 'own' Les Feuilles Mortes and also recorded Les Enfants qui s'aiment unforgettably on his 'Montand Chante Prevert' album. But what of the movie itself. It started with one strike on it; Jean Gabin and Marlene Dietrich, for whom the two leading roles had been tailored by Prevert, ankled shortly before shooting commenced so Carne tapped the inexperienced (in acting) Montand and the justifiably soon forgetten Nathalie Nattier as deps. As if that weren't enough the film was packaged as the most expensive ever made in France so expectations were high. We now have to consider the climate against which it was shot and made. We're talking 1946, lots of uneasiness in the air concerning collaboration, black marketeering, etc. Prevert gives us a fantasy - Montand meets a bum on the Metro who claims he is Destiny personified and predicts that Montand will meet later that same day the most beautiful woman in the world but after one mayfly moment he will lose her again - but a fantasy laced with the realism of black marketeering, post-war austerity, hints of collaboration. It was, arguably, the wrong theme at the wrong time and the egg it laid was such that it broke up the partnership of Prevert-Carne (who had just come off 'Les Enfants du Paradis') who had invented the concept of poetic realism and given the world such gems as Le jour se leve, Quai des brumes, les visiteurs du soir, etc. Seen today it is much easier to concentrate on its strenghs and delight in the first fledgling steps towards 'Great Actor' status taken by Yves Montand. In sum: a gem. ten stars, no question.

Paris in December of 1945: Liberation, but the war goes on and people scramble to live in a frozen world. Yves Montand takes the metro to tell a friend's wife that he died six months earlier, only to find his friend there. They celebrate, they talk, we are introduced to the usual cast of eccentrics in Marcel Carne's small slice of magical realism and Montand meets the most beautiful girl in the world, Nathalie Nattier, and her traitorous brother, Serge Reggiani.

The cast of supporting characters is up to Carne's usual standards, including Jean Vilard as a tramp who thinks he's destiny, Pierre Brasseur as Miss Nattier's despised husband, Saturnin Fabre -- whom I first encountered in a Max Linder short from 35 years earlier -- as a grasping local junk dealer..... but why go on? Almost everyone is fine, except for the three actors at the center of this movie: Montand, Nattier and Reggiani, all of whom simply don't measure up.

Perhaps this is because the Montand and Nattier roles were originally written for Jean Gabin and Marlene Dietrich; when they dropped out, the roles had to be recast and the results were... unfortunate. Neither actor could project the world-weary gravitas required, and the entire movie, which might have been magnificent, is merely very good, carried by the supporting cast. Yet it makes one wish for the movie done right.

Prévert's script has no interest, Yves Montand and Nathalie Nattier play badly, the character of destiny is ridiculous. But the sets, the photography, some superb shots of Paris just after the war (Montmartre, the rotunda, the Bassin de la Villette, Jaurès, at the very beginning of the film), the songs of Kosma and Prévert, a certain atmosphere worth the detour.

It is tough not to defend an openly homosexual director, but I just cannot respond positively to Marcel Carne's films. I have tried them all, and despite a certain liking for ' Hotel du Nord ' I am perhaps not in the position to judge his films. I have tried, and I have seen them all including his ludicrous last film ' The Marvellous Visit ' ( where a clearly homoerotic angel falls naked to the earth ) but in some way that films pseudo-romanticism plays back to his former films. I am not sure how to define poetic realism, but it must be said I find it fake. I am equally unhappy about the Nouvelle Vague scorning him, as I suspect there were reasons based also on homophobia (try to think of one same-sex scenario among that new wave when some of them could have at least tried, and you will fail.) But I still resist Carne's sentimental/bitter approach to humanity. In ' Les Portes de la nuit ' it is in full strength with suicide, lost lovers mixing with black marketeers and collaborationists. I can only compare this to a case of' bad faith ' expressed so well in Jean-Paul Sartre's philosophy. The plot has been mulled over by previous reviewers, but I will simply say it has a sort of classical structure which lasts through one night before dawn, hence the title. Yves Montand plays a man who gets off the metro in a poor part of Northern Paris and there meets up with some of its occupants. There he meets ' Destiny ' in the form of a beggar, who like the angel in Carne's last film has fallen to earth. Jean Vilar plays him fairly well predicting unhappy deaths, and surprise, surprise so-called destiny is right. No more spoilers and tediously the film drags its weary way to its dismal and depressing climax. I did not believe in any of it, and the visual aspect of the set bound district of Paris, trying to be ' authentic ' fails as well. As for the other lead actors Serge Reggiani plays a traitor far too hysterically and the leading actress acts very badly indeed. So why am I giving it 5 ? Because I may just be wrong, and I may watch it again, and just maybe I will be in the right mood to respond to it.

Winter in Paris, 1944. The occupying Germans have fled, Vichy disbanded but the war still rages on and shortages exist. Jean Diego (Yves Montand) exits at the Barbes Rochechouart metro station to deliver bad news to the wife of a friend. It turns out the news is erroneous, however and the wake turns into a celebration as Diego and the family go out to dinner where he finds himself entranced by a woman (Natalie Nathier) he views from the window of the restaurant. She wants out of her marriage and the pair meet later by coincidence. Meanwhile a jealous husband (Pierre Brasseur) searches for her.

Released in 1946, wounds still fresh from the occupation Gates of the Night is more than just a tragic romance but also a recent reminder of the collaboration and betrayal of fellow Frenchman during that period as well as those who benefited from the calamity. Director Marcel Carne shows no sympathy for these exploiters as they attempt to re-write their recent history. Pierre Brasseur, Serge Reggiani and especially Saturnin Fabre convey their complicity denial with unctuous conviction.

Carne and screenwriter add a touch of fantasy with a homeless character believing he is destiny in human form and while it rattles the verismo of the picture it provides additional ambiguity and interest.

Shot in typical graceful Carne style, (with cinematographer, Phillipe Agostini providing some stunning night canvases) the romance (with its "Autmn Leaves" background music) tends to be rather mawkish. Carne also chooses to jump from the film's climactic moment to another almost as pressing only to distract from both.

Romance removed Gates of Night must have engendered a good deal of emotion and soul searching to a French audience and the very recent memory of its occupation.