Le Crabe-Tambour

I am working a librarian in the french equivalent of the British Council, in Quito, Ecuador, South America. A long long time ago, when I was still living in France, a friend of mine lend me a copy of Shoendoerffer's novel, "Le crabe tambour". I never forgot this small pocket book, which surprisingly enough was not published anymore.

A few years later, working in the Alliance Francaise of Quito, I found out an old video copy of the movie. Its quality was definitely not top notch, for it had been taped from the french TV in the 80's. The sound was quite bad, making it uneasy to catch the dialogues.

Even though, I loved it. Definitely. A few months later, the video was removed from the library, because it was not an original. Of course, I took this one with me and brought it home.

Why is this film so magical?

Because it blends in a superb way the drama of history (more precisely, the bitter decolonisation years of the french empire in Indochina / Vietnam and Algeria), its heart-braking influence on the soldiers who fought these lost wars, philosophical reflections about the meaning of man's liberty to choose his own way (and the subsequent price to pay), beauty of the sea and the men who sail her, friendship, death.

As Kubrick's 2001, "Le crabe tambour" does not reveal everything at first seeing. Like a marvellous book, it is to be seen again, and again. Again for the beautiful acting of Rochefort, Rich, Dufilho and Perrin. Again for the harshness of the dialogues, and the importance of silence. Again for the magnificent photography of boats struggling in the cold and furious North Atlantic. Again for this unique and moving confrontation between history and men.

Just like in Kubrick's 2001, there is not much of action to be seen. Despite the different places it takes us through (Indochina, Algeria, France and sea), the film is much more like a long and uninterrupted dialogue. Two officers on a small boat, encountering each other on the common ground of their friendship for a third one, the absent one, the "crabe-tambour". Two old and battered military men, chasing a ghost, each one for his own intimate and imperious reasons.

So will we, one day, ask ourselves the same frightening question : "What have I done with my talent?".

For me, this is definitely worth a 10 out of 10. But I strongly recommend reading the book first, if can be.

There are many war movies, but few movies about war. War movies are usually action movies set during a war. Other movies deal about war itself, why the people do it, why they enjoy it and suffer from it. Like Apocalypse Now or the Thin Red Line, The Crabe-Tambour is about war, though, unlike these movies, it shows little of it. It tells the story of Wilsdorf, a.k.a. the "Drummer-Crab", a French officer in the colonial armies, who witnessed (and took part in) the fall of the French empire after WWII. The man himself has become a legend and lives in the memories of fellow soldiers, who tell different tales - fantastic, ironic - about him. Wilsdorf appears as an elusive and shining ghost, a youthful figure of their past, who is still roaming the world as a free man while they grow old and embittered. Some may find there both a dubious fascination for the military (strongly reminiscent of Hugo Pratt's Corto Maltese series) and nostalgia for the colonies. However, it's so beautifully filmed that this can be easily forgiven.

A chance remark leads three French naval officers to reminisce, together and privately, about the compelling young commander Willsdorf, nicknamed The Drummer Crab, recalling his exploits from the fog-shrouded rivers of Indochina to an attempted military coup in Algeria to his lonely, anonymous vigil in the North Atlantic fishing lanes nearby. Joseph Conrad would have loved this film, arguably the finest modern seafaring adventure ever made: a thoughtful and thrilling study of man versus the elements, where the past itself becomes an elemental force even more unyielding than the vivid Winter seascapes captured by Raoul Coutard's breathtaking cinematography. In metaphor, Willsdorf's fate is the fate of French colonialism, and only by pursuing his memory, through crashing waves and hissing spindrift, can his three erstwhile companions (a dying captain, a middle-aged medical officer, and a robust, veteran Chief Engineer) confront and endure their collective loss. This is a spellbinding film, rich in history and detail.

I'm not the smartest puppy in the litter, and I am often lost in a movie. So I just have some vague conception of what actually was going on here. But unlike most movies today, it has an unusually forlorn and mysterious feel to it that makes it appealing. Its characters are also people who get little notice today, which for an American audience would include French officers engaged in postwar colonial action at the end of French colonial rule. There's a lot of great photography too. So, even if the characters are remote and the storyline, bouncing around different time periods and places, is perplexing, the movie was moderately pleasing.

CRABE-TAMBOUR's base-camp story is simple-- the antiquated officers of a functionless army spend a voyage home on rough North Atlantic seas recounting stories of a cavalier-soldier whose busted military career spanned France's last years of colonial globalism. This beautiful film (master Raoul Coutard's sea-footage is a film unto itself) is rich, ironically resonant, and in a wrenching last scene, comparable to Peckinpah in its regard for its stoic heroes, the last-men-standing at the sorry end of empire.