Le septième juré

Le septième juré (The 7th Juror) is directed by Georges Lautner and adapted to screenplay by Pierre Laroche and Jacques Robert from the Francis Didelot novel. It stars Bernard Blier, Maurice Biraud, Francis Blanche, Danièle Delorme and Jacques Riberolles. Music is by Jean Yatove and cinematography by Maurice Fellous.

Horrible Crime Near Pontarlier!

Overcome by the sight of a nude lady sunbather, Grégoire Duval (Blier) forces himself upon her and in a panic strangles her to death when she begins to scream. Returning back to his hum-drum existence, Duval is shocked to find the victim's boyfriend charged with her murder on circumstantial evidence. He's even more shocked when he is chosen for jury service on that very trial...

Crime of a coward - or a madman?

A caustic and potent piece of French cinema, Le septième juré operates on many narrative levels. In parts it's a cracker-jack legal drama, featuring a court case of dramatic verve, while the observations about the sometimes folly of the law is brutally laid bare. At other parts it's a cutting deconstruction of small town mentality, of class distinction and standings, all of which are not favourably portrayed in the slightest.

First you must save your soul.

Firmly operating in the realm of film noir, the makers produce a clinically atmospheric picture. Georges Lautner opens with an ominous shot of a lone fisherman in his boat, out on a mist covered lake, the accompanying classical music amazingly in sync with the scenes. It's evident from this point we are in for some visual and aural treats. Blier provides a classic noir narration as we move among bohemian architecture, through smoky jazz clubs and clientèle exclusive bars. At night the streets are full of shadows, in daylight there's a muted tone to Maurice Fellous' photography, this is not a happy place to live - unless you be one of the secular bourgeois of course...

Othello was misunderstood too.

Other imagery strikes hard. A confession box sequence is brilliantly filmed, noir nirvana, a tilted mirror used during a key exchange between husband and wife is astute, and the pièce de résistance that involves grotesque reflections on a brandy glass. Haunting scenes drop in and out, normally involving the tortured Duval staring blankly out at someone, while the court case is a hot-bed of hurt and chaos, even turning to the macabre as the crime is reenacted at the actual murder scene. Lautner also likes pull away movements as well, and so do we!

Superbly acted, directed, scored and photographed, this is yet another French film that proves that although the first wave of American film noir had faded cum the start of the 60s, the French were keeping the flame alight well into the decade. From that opening misty lake scene, to the black twist finale that is crowned by a stunning ambulance light sequence, this is black gold cinema. Merry Christmas. 9/10

M.Duval (Blier), bored and out walking, comes upon Catherine, a beauty sunbathing topless. He tries to kiss her and when she resists and screams, strangles her. He feels no great remorse or pangs of conscience, but when he finds himself on the jury at the trial of her main lover (she had several) does all he can to to get the wrongly-accused man acquitted. To say more would spoil your enjoyment. suffice to say the film is thoroughly gripping, and the ending terrific.

Pathe have been issuing DVDs of restored, relatively rare French films like this one. The prints are excellent and have English subtitles: I wish Gaumont would follow suit, as there are so many neglected works from the 50s and 60s by the likes of Cayatte and Hossein, brushed aside by the New Wavers like the abysmal Jean-Luc. "Juror" could have been made by the more prestigious Clouzot or Chabrol, as it shares their disgust at the prejudice and self- protection of the provincial petit bourgeoisie, Duval's wife being a prime example (no wonder he's so frustrated.)

I've seen three Lautner films restored by Pathe, and this is easily the best (probably his masterpiece, but I haven't seen all of his work.) It's a pity he mostly made silly romps with insufferably smug stars like Belmondo and Meurisse, where nothing's at stake. All that prevents me giving this film 10 is that after Duval met the prosecuting counsel in a shop pre-trial and said he believed the accused innocent, said counsel would surely have rejected Duval as a juror: that scene was a mistake.

As an outsider it was fascinating to see how the French legal system works. The juror basically conducted the defence (the defence counsel hardly said a word!) Duval constantly interrupted proceedings to ask questions. He grilled witnesses, called for one to be recalled, argued with the prosecutor and suggested a reconstruction at the crime scene. None of this would be possible in the adversarial system we have in the UK and Us: the French system, which seems focused on trying to find the truth, seems superior.

This film is a precursor in court drama and suspense. It is also a clever criticism of French bourgeois society as symbolised by the gatherings of the city notables at the local pub or the main protagonist's wife.

Excellent film-maker André Cayatte is not the only one to take a swipe at the French judicial system and I consider this film of Georges Lautner to be the equal of Cayatte's 'Justice est faite' and 'Les Bonnes Causes' of Christian-Jaque.

Furthermore, it is arguably Lautner's finest film(sincere apologies to devotees of 'Les Tontons Flingueurs')

Francis Didelot had a short career as a lawyer and being descended on his mother's side from Edgar Allan Poe(!) he seemed fated to become a writer of detective fiction. He had already shown his unique imagination in 'Le Monde Tremblera', filmed by Richard Pottier in 1939 but 'The Seventh Juror' is generally regarded as his greatest.

This tale concerns Gregoire Duval who has committed a murder in a moment of madness and is fated to be a member of the jury at the trial of a man wrongly accused of the murder. What is really on trial here is human nature with its prejudice, hypocrisy, double standards and the overriding desire to maintain the status quo.

Even though Gregoire confesses to his wife and the investigating police officer, they will go to any lengths to conceal his guilt so as to save face and reputation.

Jacques Robert's excellent adaptation presents us with a gallery of wonderfully drawn characters superbly played by all. Daniele Delorme is mesmerising as Madame Duval whilst Albert Remy is smugness personified as the detective. The voice of morality crying in the wilderness is that of Maurice Biraud as a veterinarian. No one plays Everyman as well as Bernard Blier whose psychological penetration as Duval is aided by the device of the 'interior monologue'. His performance is stupendous.

Lautner has again used his favoured cinematographer Maurice Fellous to great effect and there is a good score by Jean Yatove with excellent use made of Vivaldi in the opening sequences.

There are films that slowly insinuate themselves but this one grabs you from the outset and never relaxes its grip.

This is superlative film-making and fully deserves dix sur dix.

Grégoire Duval (Bernard Blier), one of the most upstanding citizens in his provincial French town, commits a spur-of-the-moment crime of passion and subsequently gets picked for the jury when a man with a dubious past goes on trial for the murder. Grégoire's probing questions get the man acquitted but in the eyes of the community, the defendant's still a killer and when Grégoire eventually confesses to the crime, nobody wants to hear it...

Director Georges Lautner's extremely satisfying film noir also doubles as an autopsy of cold, cruel, hypocritical bourgeois values and is not unlike "Madame Bovary" in that respect. The philosophically resigned voice-over narration of a man tormented not only by what he's done but by the way his entire life played out has a chilling effect and it's a dark universe, indeed, right down to THE INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS ending (on Christmas Eve, no less). There's bitter irony to spare with a dazed walk through nocturnal city streets present in some of the finest noir such as ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS and BLAST OF SILENCE and director Georges Lautner (who'd go on to make the giallo-esque ROAD TO SALINA with Rita Hayworth & Mimsy Farmer) gives the bleak proceedings a grey, misty patina that doesn't go away, even in the daytime. The Francis Didelot novel the film is based on was adapted in the U.S. a year earlier for an episode of THE ALFRED HITCHCOCK HOUR called "The Star Juror" and the timeless tale was also turned into a 2008 TV movie in it's native France. 10/10!