Poulet au vinaigre

I've seen a handful of Chabrol films and have so far been impressed with all of them. This film is my first experience of Chabrol's work in the eighties and while I'm not surprised at the fact that it gets lambasted by some; and it's not quite up to the great French director's previous high standards, personally I found this to be yet another great example of Chabrol's moody and brooding direction coupled with an interesting plot line and some good performances. The plot is not quite as deep as the ones seen in previous Chabrol films, but there's still plenty to chew on. The base of the story is Madame Curo and her son Louis. They live in a house that is wanted by two unscrupulous people in the village, but what they don't realise is that the son can read their mail, owing to the fact that he works at the post office - which gives them an advantage. The plot kicks off properly when Louis puts sugar into the tank of one of the men's cars, which soon results in a fatal car accident. After the disappearance of the other man's wife, a hard nosed police officer is brought in to investigate.

This film has one of the strangest titles I've ever heard of - 'Poulet au vinaigre', translating literally as "Chicken with the Vinegar". Quite what that means, I have no idea. The film has a fair few different plots going on, but the one that Chabrol seems most interested in is the one surrounding Louis, who finds himself in the middle of a "war" that is a bit too big for him and has to deal with his needy, sick mother at the same time. The murder investigation does provide the film with one of its main narratives; but since it doesn't kick off until we're halfway through, it's clear that it wasn't Chabrol's main concern. The acting is very good all round, with Lucas Belvaux making a convincing lead and getting good support from Chabrol's ex-wife and regular muse Stéphane Audran, Jean Poiret; who is excellent as the formidable police officer and my personal favourite, the exquisite Pauline Lafont as the love interest. Chabrol seems to have a thing for ending his films abruptly, and that is the case here as while everything is wrapped up by the end, it is done in a matter of about five minutes. Overall, it's not hard to imagine why this film isn't as well liked as some of Chabrol's other work - but for my money it's still a more than worthwhile thriller and comes recommended.

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.

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.

This is a pretty conventional crime thriller of the 1980s, with some criminally dull characterisation and limp acting performances. None of the principal characters, except the formidable Lavardin, appears to have any substance, and the end result is by and large lacklustre and plodding.

Thankfully, the film does have its saving graces. Firstly, the character of Lavardin is well played by Jean Poiret. The police inspector's methods and persona are so unconventional that he comes across as more frightening and sinister than any of the murder suspects. Then there is Mathieu Chabrol's eerie background music which imbues a sense of menace into even the (few) lighter scenes. But the strongest selling point is the camera work, heavily embossed with Chabrol's style. This film has some very chilling moments which are achieved through a clever combination of lighting and camera angles. The style is that of a very sophisticated suspense thriller, even if the content isn't.

Although the films does succeed to some extent at a technical level, the shallowness of the characterisation and the overly complex plot drag the film down to the ranks - almost - of a somewhat mediocre television movie.

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.