Inspecteur Lavardin

In Dinan, in the countryside of France, the Catholic writer Raoul Mons (Jacques Dacqmine) is having lunch with his wife Hélène Mons (Bernadette Lafont), his stepdaughter Véronique Manguin (Hermine Clair) and his brother-in-law Claude Alvarez (Jean-Claude Brialy), when residents of the nearby coastal town knock at his door to tell that a theater troupe will present a profane play. Raoul, who is a leader in the community, promises to take care of the case. On the next morning, Raoul is found murdered on the beach with the word "pig" written on his back. Inspector Jean Lavardin (Jean Poiret) arrives in town to help the investigation. When he arrives at Raoul's house, he sees Hélène, who was his passion twenty-years ago, and learns that her previous husband had also been murdered. He interviews the family and Hélène lodges him at home. He also interviews the cast of the play and discovers family secrets, including that Raoul and Hélène were estranged and did not have sex. He also discovers that Raoul was an habitué of the night-club owned by Max Charnet (Jean-Luc Bideau), who uses his political influence to sell drugs and allow minors in his club. Soon Inspector Lavardin learns dirty secrets and who killed Raoul Mons.

"Inspecteur Lavardin", a.k.a. "Inspector Lavardin" (1986), is a witty crime film by Claude Chabrol. The smart Inspector Lavardin comes to a coastal town to investigate a murder and finds many secrets including the killer of the prominent writer. But he also learns the character of the victim, the killer and the people involved in the case. His solution is not "politically correct" but resolves many problems at the same time. The society in Dinan will be certainly better off with the way Lavardin resolved the case. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "Inspetor Lavardin" ("Inspector Lavardin")

I don't understand people's affection for Chabrol's films. I've watched a handful of them and they are fungibly torpid.

In Inspecteur Lavardin we have a set of smarmy characters - all utterly amused with themselves and their problems - and a story that, despite what other reviewers claim, reflects very conventional values and mores. I can't complain too much about the structure of the story. It is akin to the British variety - there's a murder, a set of suspects, all of whom seem to have something to hide, and a detective who ping-pongs among them matching secrets to the subjects, and the one left over is the murderer. However, one gets the feeling that Chabrol never in his life read a detective novel or watched a police TV show or movie (or just couldn't be bothered with the pesky details) since he, through his characters, seems blissfully unaware that there might be a tradition of procedures for homicide investigation and evidence collection. Or maybe in France they just don't care about fingerprints or cataloging evidence for trial. The problem isn't that the inspector is immoral or amoral, but that he is uber-moral (forgive my neologism, if it is one); that is, he is presented as knowing what's best despite what's legal. Stories about cops taking the law into their own hands is nothing new. But Chabrol does the least with it by having the well-coiffed inspecteur uphold middle class values and condemn those who would prey on the young and the weak. Great, if you happen to be a 13 year old girl, but otherwise insipid.

As I said, I can't fathom the charm Chabrol and his leaky films have over reviewers. Give me a Holmes or Marlowe any day.

This sequel to COP AU VIN (1985), in which Jean Poiret's eccentric title character is given more screen-time, proves to be almost as good; if anything, he is less detached towards his current case – since the victim's wife (Bernadette Lafont) is an old flame of the Inspector's! Besides, the sleazy vicissitudes of the murder mystery here are somewhat more compelling than in the first film – involving as it does bigamy, drug-trafficking, incest, infidelity, patricide, paedophilia, prostitution, etc.!

Once again, Lavardin locks horns with one of the suspects in particular, a discotheque-owner who unwisely flaunts his political connections at him. As I said, the protagonist is allowed plenty of opportunity to display his idiosyncrasies – such as when he willfully destroys the fragile collection of ornamental eyes owned by Jean-Claude Brialy (playing Lafont's spirited live-in gay brother), or when, at the disco, he first appropriates for himself a drink being poured to a paying customer and, then, interrupts the activities to request identification papers from suspicious-looking patrons!

However, the women are not only scarcer than they were the first time around but also less interesting: Lafont herself is oddly given little of substance to do, while the actress appearing as her daughter (who has more to do with her stepfather's death than her mother could ever imagine) is simply too nondescript for such a pivotal role! Otherwise, the film offers much the same level of entertainment and maintains a more or less comparable standard of quality as the original.

So funny... Poiret is such a blast. Police story with a lot of social critic. The cast is one of the greatest you can have in France at that time. This is so cynical.

Jean Poiret is Inspector Lavardine who finds the love of his life after 20 years the widow of the man found nude on the beach in Brittany. She has a lovely 13 year old daughter. There is a relative who paints glass eyes. The murder scene has the clothes of the victim. Lavardine is tricky in the way he gets information. At one point he smashes all the glass eyes off the shelves. He can get very severe if needed. He's nice up to the point where he is frustrated, and then he turns. I enjoyed the creative manner of Levardine. The action and characters were relatable. A very easy film to watch.