September
7, 2004 (Venice Film Festival), July 28, 2006 (United States), release dates
Directed
by Claude Chabrol
Screenplay
by Claude Chabrol and Pierre Leccia
Based on The Bridesmaid by Ruth Rendell
Music by
Matthieu Chabrol
Edited by
Monique Fardoulis
Cinematography
by Eduardo Serra
Benoît Magimel as Philippe Tardieu
Laura Smet as Stéphanie Bellange
(Senta)
Aurore Clément as Christine
Bernard Le Coq as Gérard Courtois
Suzanne Flon as Madame Crespin
Solène Bouton as Sophie Tardieu
Anna Mihalcea as Patricia Tardieu
Thomas Chabrol as Lieutenant José
Laval
Produced
by Aliceléo, Canal Diffusion, France 2 Cinéma, Integral Film
Distributed
by First Run Features
La demoiselle d’honneur is definitely a neo-noir: The mood is unsettling from
the start and gets more so until the final scene, when the credits are rolling
over the shot of that bust named Flora.
The
opening sequence is shot from a moving vehicle. The film looks bleached out;
the scenes are sometimes distorted by the glass of the window. The credits
start to roll, and by the time they’re done, color is restored. The vehicle
stops in front of a house where a reporter is giving a news story about a
missing young woman. It’s a television news story: The camera pans back to a
television screen that Philippe and his sisters are watching. It’s a great opening for a film with an unbalanced female lead, and it’s almost
the opposite of what happens to Philippe: Everything seems clear to him at the
start, but then he’s in deep and everything is muddled.
(This blog post about La demoiselle d’honneur contains
spoilers.)
The light and shadow typical of film
noir and neo-noir are not dominant features in La demoiselle d’honneur, but the music and the filming create an
uneasy mood that never quits. Senta may have some really odd, even dangerous
ideas, but she doesn’t seem to be aware that she’s doing harm to others.
Philippe falls in love with Senta and starts a relationship with her, and then
realizes that he is in over his head as he gets to know her better. But he has
the viewer’s sympathy: The story is told from his point of view, and it’s easy
to see how he gets more and more enmeshed in Senta’s unstable world. The use of
first-person point-of-view filming later in the film, when Philippe is
searching for Senta after realizing what she has done, emphasizes Philippe’s
predicament and the viewer’s identification with him.
Senta is a modern, more ambiguous
femme fatale: She seduces Philippe, and it’s her idea that they plunge right
away into a romantic and sexual relationship. But she doesn’t seem to be quite
aware of her power over Philippe, and she is very unsure sometimes of his love
for her. Philippe is drawn to her, at least at first, because she reminds him
of the bust (which has a name—Flora) that his father gave to his mother.
Philippe may seem like the odd one (and he is odd) because of his attachment to
Flora, but that bust called Flora is the least of his problems as the movie and
his relationship with Senta progresses.
What I love about La demoiselle d’honneur is the way the
plot and the filming bring the viewer right into Philippe’s story. He’s
strange. He’s involved with an unbalanced young woman who makes me want to warn
him that he should run while he can still get out. But Philippe exercising good
sense wouldn’t make a neo-noir, for one thing. Another is that the viewer is
involved in the story and starts to identify with poor Philippe. That’s quite
an accomplishment considering everything he goes through after meeting Senta
and the warning signs that he either doesn’t see or chooses to ignore.
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