La Lune dans le caniveau

Poor Gerard who has to put up with a dead sister, a crazy brother, a drunkard father, an overweight loud step-mother, a nympho of a lover and a beautiful wealthy woman. It all adds up to trash art by the master of high quality cinema, Jean-Jacques Beineix!

The second feature from the director of 'Diva' was met with enough ridicule to suggest a settling of old scores, but unfortunately the film deserved every insult it inspired. No one can say Jean-Jacques Beineix wasn't asking for trouble, and the end result of his efforts to create a heavily stylized, romantic mood piece is an unforgivably empty and pretentious melodrama so laughably bad it might almost be a parody of modern European art-schlock cinema. The ubiquitous Gerard Depardieu plays a burly stevedore who wanders the docks of a nameless city, brooding over the unknown assailant who killed his sister; soon he begins brooding over sultry Nastassia Kinski instead, and they elope. Or do they? Every tantalizing hint of a plot disappears (usually within a scene or two) behind a welter of self-indulgent gestures, none of which could possibly make any sense to anyone except the writer-director. At best the film might be dismissed as a failed experiment; more accurately, it's a near masterpiece of unintended awfulness.

I saw this what ten years ago. It's timeless. A tale of intrigue. Not for those with limited attention spans! Nastassia's first appearance left me gasping. Lives interconnected, the rich in the playground of the working class. And that ice eating scene had me on the edge of my seat. So dark and challenging. Very few like this out there on the market. I am Glad it wasn't a hit - why spoil it with yet another US remake!!

Jean-Jacques Beineix recently stated (transl.) "An auteur does not speak the truth" and here, within this enormously powerful film, he but flirts with reality, while most of the director's creative fires feed upon his singular employment of colour and set design. The style of Beineix, as a cinematic architect, may be designated as Rococo with, as he avers, a preeminence of (transl.) "atmosphere over narrative", fostering an element of whimsy, greatly enhanced by his recognition of a symbolic authority resting upon commercial advertising and its adjuncts. A studied development of exaggerated imagination marks the film, each frame being carefully composed for a production that originally extended to over four and one half hours, in the face of Beineix' assertion that he abhors filmic structuring. This organizational factor, at least in part, stems from an obligatory reflex of the director as recognition of the film's source, a novel by David Goodis, wherein the action occurs primarily at and about dockside Philadelphia, transferred here to an undesignated Marseille, and with the novelist's prototypical women intact, one, Loretta (Nastassia Kinski), angelic and carnally unattainable, ("you are pure" declaims Gerard Depardieu to her), the second, Bella (Victoria Abril) triumphantly lusty and possessed of will such as the work's protagonist, Gerard Delmas (Depardieu) apparently does not have. Delmas is compulsively drawn to the site of his sister's gruesome death by her own hand following her sexual violation, hoping to discover keys to what prompted her suicide, to the identity of her assailant, and to a rationale behind his own obsession. Thus is formed a basis for a plot, such as it may be, yet style is properly victor over substance with this undervalued and enigmatic piece that is nearly all filmed in studio, the greatest portion lighted by arcs and photo floods, with scoring contributed in elegant and operatically motival fashion by Gabriel Yared, and paced throughout, as Beineix describes it, with (transl.) "slow gestures forming the choreography."

One would imagine that any film staring Depardieu, Kinski and Abril would be worth watching for their performances alone... but not in this case. The pace of the story was slow, and its premise was instantly forgettable. NOT recommended.