Part 1
Claude Chabrol's "La Rupture" (1970) begins in what could be a cave, with the quotation: "What utter darkness suddenly surrounds me?" The camera abruptly dollies to the right a short distance and the "cave" is revealed to have been a close-up of the bark of a tree. The movement pulls in a rustic-looking apartment building (which the DVD commentary explains is a fake French farmhouse, a suburban style popular at the time). The lens has been focused on the building in the distance the whole time; the camera has just moved around the obstacle of the old tree to show us what was "hidden" behind it. And that's what the movie's about, looking into the darkness beneath middle-class suburban life. This opening is, in its way, a less overtly surrealistic forerunner of the first sequence of David Lynch's "Blue Velvet," 16 years later. (Yet there's still something disturbingly surreal about it, don't you think?)
That's the first shot. But for this film I wanted to go further -- all the way through the opening credits. The second shot mimics the movement of its immediate predecessor -- a lurching dolly to the right, from a blond boy sitting at the breakfast table to capture his mother, Hélène (Stéphane Audran, of course), entering with her cast iron skillet. And then, a hairy, bare-chested brute slowly lumbers into the scene through a door at the rear. This is Charles (Jean-Claude Drouot), Hélène's husband and the boy's father, and something is horribly wrong. He looks confused, disoriented, like maybe he's still asleep. His messed black hair hangs savagely in he's face, and he can only communicate in moans and grunts and cries that seem to emanate from some unknowable agony inside him.
The "rupture" in the film's reality occurs right here, only seconds into the film, with a scene of horrifying violence that I won't describe, except to say that it is all the more shocking for erupting so suddenly and in such a mundane setting. The credit sequence is one of the most urgent, panicked and thrilling in the cinema -- a rush to the hospital in a blur of buildings, trees and vehicles (stitched together with cuts and dissolves) under bright-red titles in a rough, torn font. By the time Chabrol's director credit rips onto the screen, your pulse should be pounding. We're less than four minutes into the film.
Part 2
"Le Boucher," made the same year as "La Rupture," actually does begin deep underground in a cave, with a titles sequence scribbled over still images of ancient cave walls, rock formations and subterranean paintings from the earliest days of humankind. The actual first shot (not included here, for reasons that will become apparent) is a landscape vista from high above a river valley in which the caves and a small village are located.
Part 3
"La femme infidèle" (1969) has already been the subject of an Opening Shots entry, but here you can see the entire shot instead of just frame grabs. It's basically an extended version of the first shot of "La Rupture," with the camera dollying across a suburban lawn, with tree trunks passing by in the foreground, partially blacking out the image, toward what looks like a fantasy cottage or dollhouse. This is the home of the woman of the tile (Audran again, as in all three of these movies), her son, and the husband to whom she will be... "unfaithful."
Part 4
Here is where they all come together -- a montage in which the openings and closings of these three great Chabrol movies flow together in montage. The cave in "Le Boucher" becomes the tree in "La Rupture"; the camera movement to the right is repeated in three consecutive shots. The image of Audran in the kitchen dissolves into the astonishing final shot of "La femme infidel," a dolly/zoom (the so-called "Vertigo" shot) POV that both separates husband and family, and brings them closer together. Dissolve from the bushes in the garden of "Infidel" to Audran walking out of the house in "La Rupture," searching for her son, and looking at children's balloons sailing away in the sky. Dissolve to Audran, sitting on the bank of the river seen at the beginning of "Le Boucher" as the dawn of an unimaginably long night slowly breaks, a woman on the edge with no place to go...
These three masterworks are all of a piece -- essential movies by one of the most accomplished directors of psychological thrillers that are also autopsies of modern anomie.
8 Comments
Having watched this a couple of times and having only seen "Le Boucher" there is definitley something sinister running through these movies/shots. Chabrol is working in the thriller mode, but in his unique way.
The camera movement opening "La Rupture" suggests something or someone invading or spying on the characters shown. I say something because in "La Rupture" it is like an evil spirit has swooped in to posses the husband/father. And of course the quote at the begining aligns with the sense that some sort of unexplained force is at work. So this seems like it is not the type of thriller with a typical "killer", but a mysterious, psychological force at work. Then when the credits begin, the sense of urgency is tantamount to a full on horror movie; what with the red, jagged text and the hysteria-inducing music.
The opening credits for "Le Boucher" uses the same text as "La Rupture" but with a muddier, muckier color. And the music is less hysteric, but no less sinister with its bells sounding like a funeral dirge, while the shots of the cave and cave paintings add to the unsettling tone being set up. But what does the cave imagery represent? Something primitive? Something buried? I'd have to see "Le Boucher" again.
The opening shot of "La femme infidel" mirrors the opening of "La Rupture": something is lurking off yonder behind the trees. The silence of this shot with the women's laughter in the distance is menacing.
In your compilation I noticed that while in the opening shots the camera seems to be lurking or intruding on the characters, the closing shots are all in retreat. It's like the mysterious force that has entered these characters' lives has been vanquished. That closing to "La femme infidel" is so spooky. It's like a staredown is happening and those girls are winning, they are the menacing ones. I also noticed that the characters are for the most part facing the camera. There doesn't seem to be any pov shots from the characters' perspective.
So now that I'm hooked I guess I've got to see these flicks pronto.
I can't believe you're the only one who took me up on this -- but thank you for some excellent readings!
I know, I'm astonished. I guess Face.., I mean "The Social Network" is all the rage, which is understandable, based on your keen posts. But I know there are some Chabrol fans on here somewhere, or at least of your excellent video essays. Looking forward to the annotations.
Oh, and I forgot: It seems like a force is about to take over Griffin Dunne's world.
Part 1 is a fantastic hook for a movie. I think Drugpunk really hit the nail on the head describing it as if Chabrol is lurking outside, trying to peer in on these characters. Everything about the scene is very unsettling. The creepy start behind the tree, followed by mention of Mother going to bed late. Why is the mother of this child going to bed so late? She needs to be responsible! The second cut (I think...) is a violation of the 180-degree rule, but this adds to the feeling that something is not quite right. The next shot is really interesting. It seems like the camera doesn't stop zooming (out and in) the entire shot. On top of that, there's a strange symmetry to it. Once Charles walks in we have Mother on the left, Charles on the right; a door open in the foreground and one in the background; a blue plate over Mother's head that coincides with the blue wall in the foreground and a brownish-yellow plate over Charles head on a yellow wall in the background. The multiple layers of symmetry and the slow homing in on Charles and Mother juxtaposed with Charles creepy walk/hand in the pants only made me more uncomfortable. Also, the plate over the head is slightly ironic since Charles is about to get beat over the head with a pan. After Charles attacks Mother, which is quite shocking since we nothing about these characters, Mother is eerily calm and tells him to calm down. Again, I was disturbed since Charles just strangled Mother and Mother is really calm as if this happens a lot...but that cant be right? This seems too spontaneous and unnatural... I guess some darkness must have utterly and suddenly clouded Charles judgment... Conversely, and seriously though, I think the quote is referring to the Mother character since her morning has suddenly turned very dark indeed.
Part 4 I feel like could be a short film, or maybe all cuts from the same film. These three movies were all released within two years of each other. Clearly Chabrol was REALLY feeling this sinister thriller type movie all with mirrored tones and music.
You've edited all of these shots very cleverly. Each shot seems to have something in common with the previous shot. In some cases it's almost as if the camera moves from one shot to the next. The cave wall with cave drawings turns into the bark on the tree. Moving from the tree across a lawn turns into more trees and two women in the backyard. The camera panning to the right turns into an abrupt turn to the right to watch Mother enter the kitchen with her blonde haired son. Then you cut to a woman from La Femme with her blonde haired son. This shot disappears behind the darkness of some shrubbery and reappears from behind a tree to see a woman in blue. She looks at balloons, many of them yellow which stand out and look like the yellow lights on the car behind another woman (who I'm pretty sure doesn't blink...her eyes flicker once but she doesn't blink.... creepy). And then you zoom out from the car and see this foggy darkness engulfing the car and everything around it, which calls to mind the quote at the beginning of La Rupture.
I don’t really have anything to add to Part 2 and 3.
I was looking forward to reading what others thought of this, but alas, only Drugpunk gave it a shot. I look forward to reading what you intended with Part 4, Mr Emerson.
Soooo i feel a little dumb since sometime while i was writing my comment over the last two hours or so, your annotations uploaded... I should've refreshed at some point but i just didn't. And i guess im writing this now to explain that what might seem as incorrect past tense phrasing was supposed to be present tensed since i didn't know this had updated, so my comment should be read as if it came before your annotations. Sorry for any confusion. Im glad i understood Part 4 for the most part.
I have had 3 people recently tell me I need to introduce myself to Chabrol...here I come netflix. Though if you're all wrong, I'm removing each of you from my facebook.
Lol @ Phil Kelly...Chabrol is/was underrated as filmmaker. Kinda reminds me ever-so-slightly of Lynch a little.
Leave a comment