Poulet au vinaigre

An early scene in "Cop au Vin" (or "Poulet au vinaigre") features a petulant Mommy's boy, a domineering mother and a cellar. Sound familiar? However, this is Chabrol and not Hitchcock though you may say that's the next best thing. "Cop au Vin" may not be in the front rank of Chabrol movies but this excellent account of typically well-heeled Chabrolians doing nasty things to each other will do very nicely indeed.

Naturally Stephane Audran is here; she's the domineering mother, this time confined to a wheelchair, and about to be evicted from her home by those nasty rich people. Lucas Belvaux is the petulant son and others in the cast include the wonderful Michel Bouquet, Jean Topart, Pauline Lafont and Jean Poiret as the very unorthodox inspector brought in to investigate a couple of mysterious deaths. There may not be anything profoundly engaging or even particularly memorable about the picture but it remains a highly enjoyable thriller and is certainly no disgrace to the names of either Chabrol or his mentor, Mr Hitchcock.

The first half of "Cop Au Vin" is kind of muddled, and even borderline dull at times: lots of characters and backstories are thrown at you as if you're supposed to know them already (you may need a second viewing to take it all in). Things start to get more interesting when a vengeful prank misfires into something much worse, and then get even more interesting when Inspector Lavardin arrives on the scene. Lavardin is like a strange cross between Hercule Poirot (in his eccentricity and intuition), and Dirty Harry (in his unorthodox and occasionally even violent methods of investigation and interrogation). Another character I really liked was the hero's girlfriend (played by Pauline Lafont, who tragically died in an accident only three years later): every boy should be so lucky to get his emotional / sexual maturing via such a beautiful, affectionate and playful girl. The (good-looking and well-acted) movie ends with a couple of Agatha Christie-type twists: two of them blindsided me, but the one about the mother (Stephane Audran), for some reason I suspected it from the beginning. Leonard Maltin gives this ***1/2 out of 4 stars, but IMO he's overrating it; I'll give it **1/2.

I have sometimes written in some reviews about some Claude Chabrol's flicks that I didn't find "Poulet Au Vinaigre" a memorable work. However I watched it recently and it's not that bad after all. Of course, it is several notches below such incomparable works as "La Femme Infidèle" (1969) or "Le Boucher" (1970) but it remains thoroughly watchable. Congratulations to the English film distributors who found an equivalent for the translation of the French title into English. It is perfectly well translated.

When in 1984, Chabrol starts the preparation of this "Poulet Au Vinaigre", he endured three fiasco in a row. The eighties didn't look a fruitful decade for him. "Le Cheval D'Orgeuil" (1980) got bogged down in a spate of clichés about Brittany and betrayed Pierre-Jakey Hélias' book. "Les Fantômes Du Chapelier" (1982), his first venture in Georges Simenon's universe was well received by French critics but hardly anybody went to see it. "Le Sang Des Autres" (1984) was a turgid and impersonal film in his spotty but riveting career.

So, what could Chabrol do to get things back on an even keel and to be reconciled with both critics and his public? Very simply, to cook them a typical Chabrolesque dish to the core with a minimum of money (the filmmaker wanted to show that it was possible to shoot good films with a modest budget in times of inflation) and time (a few weeks of shooting were sufficient for him to shoot his film). Thus, he kept turning over the staple ingredients which made his hallmark recognizable. He needed the apparently peaceful scenery of a small provincial town. Here, he chose Forges-Les Eaux in Normandy which isn't very far from I live in Rouen! The perfect backdrop for his story. Then, precisely a solidly structured story with several functions. First, to grab and entertain the audience and his fans with a certainly derivative but catchy storytelling. Louis Cuno is a timid postman who lives under her mother's thumb (Stéphane Audran). They refuse to sell their house to a trio of perfidious, perverse bourgeois, the doctor Morasseau, the butcher Filiol and the notary Lavoisier (Michel Bouquet) who want to set up a momentous and shady estate business. As he is a postman, Louis gets information about this trio of upper-class people At night, Louis spies them and one night, he kills the butcher by pouring sugar in the essence of his car and the maverick inspector Lavardin (Jean Poiret) keeps on harassing him... Then, Delphine Morasseau, the doctor's wife seems to have absconded while Anna Foscarie (Caroline Cellier) a prostitute is found dead in a car crash. With his unconventional methods, Lavardin will find the truth...

It is at this reading that we fully understand Chabrol's mainspring for the last function of his scenario and perhaps the most essential ingredient: to unearth skeletons in the closet of his trio of bourgeois and to shatter the respectability of the provincial bourgeoisie which has usually been Chabrol's trademark. He tapped it again with gusto here. But his scenario also encompasses a dash of psychology to better construe the persona of his characters and it gives more substance to his work.

Chabrol served his film (and his recipe) with ingenious camera work too. It encompasses neat camera angles and fluid camera movements which can only rejoice the gourmets. To enable them to fully savor the film, Chabrol shot his story on an unhurried pace. There was also effort on the lighting and framing which are up to scratch to the aura the film conveys according to the circumstances. And the director didn't put aside his pronounced taste for gastronomy. The inspector Lavardin is nutty about paprika eggs. He has eaten 30,000 of them in his life! At last, the chef Chabrol spiced up his work with a soupçon of deadpan humor essentially provided by the apparently nice Lavardin. By the way, is it innocuous humor? One has to admit that Lavardin's methods to make the suspects speak aren't really reassuring.

Maybe the cast contains a few little drawbacks. Lucas Belvaux is not bad but often bland. Pauline Laffont's acting is sometimes annoying. Jean Claude Bouillaud acts a caricatured character. But Stéphane Audran (once Mrs Chabrol) is excellent as usual. Like in "la Rupture" (1970), she was Michel Bouquet's enemy. This is precisely Bouquet who dominates the cast at the level of the quality of the acting with of course Jean Poiret.

In the end, the chef Chabrol concocted the audience and his fans an eatable even tasty "Poulet Au Vinaigre" which pleased a lot to the chef's connoisseurs. It was succulent enough to prompt Chabrol to do it again with a sequel which opened the next year: "Inspecteur Lavardin" (1986). That said, Chabrol's "pièce De resistance" in the eighties came with the contemporary "Masques" (1987) which stood the test of time quite well.

'Cop au vin' (an inspired translation of the original title 'Poulet au vinaigre') is one of those films by Claude Chabrol which, when viewed, I have the impression that they were made with Alfred Hitchcock looking approvingly over the French director's shoulder during its production. The story takes place in a small French town where the banality of houses and the apparent dullness of the people create an atmosphere of threatening normalcy which itself is a prelude to the dangerous events and situations that can not be too late to show up. The characters are diverse, some nice and some evil, but all interesting and, in addition, with a degree of madness that arouses and amplifies the interest of the viewers. The cinematography pplaces the characters in context very well, revealing what is needed to arouse curiosity and hiding what we should not find out, as spectators, too quickly. Music creates or amplifies suspense. But in addition toHitchcock-like films, we can also enjoy a dose of French specificity in 'Cop au vin'. A 'special sauce' to use a culinary term in harmony with the titles.

The two-story house where Madame Cuno, a wheelchair-bound widow lives together with her son, the very young Louis, the postman who delivers the correspondence at a time when this is still being carried in envelopes that could be opened, could be a motel at the crossroads as in Psycho. It becomes the setting for part of the story and the object that triggers the plot, as it is coveted by some of the important people of the place. The story is quite complex, husbands and mistresses appear and disappear, more or less accidental car collisions happen, police investigations are conducted with very unconventional methods. In the end, however, it is not the police intrigue that gives the film its charm. I confess that I didn't fully understand it, maybe I did not pay enough attention or maybe it was too complicated. My interest was drawn to the gallery of characters full of charm and color and to the excellent cinematography (by Jean Rabier). Performers include Stéphane Audran (Chabrol's ex, the film is made after they divorced) and Michel Bouquet, who were among the director's favorite actors, as well as Lucas Belvaux, who played the role of Louis, an interesting actor whom I did not see lately. Jean Poiret plays the role of Inspector Lavardin, a role that would turn the film into a tentative head of a series that will be continued in the coming years. 'Cop au vin' is a film with many qualities, which remains to this day an entertainment that should not be avoided.

Adapted by Dominique Roulet from his own novel it doesn't take long to realise that we are in Georges Simenon territory here. Sinister provincial undercurrents, skeletons in the closet and a collection of morally ambiguous, largely dysfunctional characters. It also enables director Claude Chabrol to take aim at his customary target of the beastly bourgoisie. Ingredient X comes in the shape of the truly extraordinary character that is Inspector Jean Lavardin.

He is a maverick who seems to appear from nowhere, is answerable to no one, assumes the role of judge and jury and has his own particular methods of extracting the truth! Jean Poiret is simply superb in the role.

The convoluted plot is almost as labyrinthine as that of 'The Big Sleep' but the performances carry us through. Great support here from M. Chabrol's former spouse Stéphane Audran as wheelchair-bound Madame Cuno and inveterate scene-stealer Michel Bouquet as a flakey lawyer. He had previously appeared in three of Chabrol's worst films and two of his best. Sultry Caroline Cellier, married at the time to Poiret, is the vamp. The nymphet is the enchanting Pauline Lafont who tragically met with a fatal accident at just 25.

Chabrol again utilises his favoured cinematographer Jean Rabier and the suitably menacing score is supplied by his son Matthieu.

Striking while the iron was hot, Chabrol and the excellent Poiret followed up the following year with 'Inspector Lavardin' after which the character was consigned to the small screen. Unsurprisingly Dominique Roulet went on to write a Maigret television series in the late 90's. It is indeed a cruel irony that the follow-up featured Bernardette Lafont, mother of the ill-fated Pauline.

Critics at the time welcomed this film as Chabrol's return to form and although nothing that he did thereafter could really compare with the ones he gave us during his Golden Period from 1968 to 1973, he still produced a few interesting, unsettling and slickly professional pieces, notably those starring super Huppert. Strangely, an actor whose persona seemed ideally suited to Chabrol's oeuvre, Gérard Depardieu, worked with him just once on 'Inspector Bellamy'. Not only Chabrol's swansong but a film which has more than a passing nod to Simenon.