OPHELIA: a little-seen Claude Chabrol "take" on Hamlet hits Blu-ray/DVD via Olive Films

Who'd have imagined that TrustMovies would be covering, on subsequent days, films by two noted French filmmakers with highly misanthropic views of the world -- one with little talent (see yesterday's post on Bruno Dumont), the other a master of the movies, Claude Chabrol, who managed to smartly link France's "New Wave" to its more "establishment" cinematic past.

One of Chabrol's (the late filmmaker is shown at left) earlier movies -- his ninth of some 60 made over a period of 51 years, plus another dozen films or series episodes made for television -- OPHELIA, as you might quickly guess, is this fellow's updated "take" on Shakespeare's Hamlet, viewed as, among other things, class warfare. Chabrol always had it in for the haute bourgeoisie, but neither did he view the working class with any kind of confidence or love.

This political overlay, in any case, is mostly skin deep, as the director/co-writer is much more interested in doing riffs on the original, which anyone who knows the play should find surprisingly amusing and often quite smart.

These includes that gravedigger scene, a bit of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, an Horatio-like best friend, the play-within-a-play (this time a film-within-a-film) and lots more.

The title character -- played by the lovely Juliette Mayniel (at right) -- is actually named Lucy and hates being referred to as Ophelia, and our Gertrude and Claudius characters (here known as Claudia and Adrien) are given proper depth and charisma by Alida Valli (below, left) and Claude Cerval (below, center).

But it is the Hamlet character, Yvan, that gives the film its most bizarre kick. As played by an actor I've never noted previously, though he played smaller roles in four other Chabrol movies, André Jocelyn (shown above, right, and below, left), was sometimes also known as André Josselin. Ophelia marked his rise to a "starring" role, yet it also marked the end of his career. I am not aware of what kind of reviews this actor received critically in France and elsewhere, but I suspect that they were perhaps unkind, for M. Jocelyn turns his Hamlet character into a twit who soon morphs into full-out twat.

I cannot help but also think that this is exactly what Chabrol wanted (his movie is full of dark, subtle humor, to which Joslyn's performance richly contributes), since this filmmaker was never one to beat around the bush as to what he was doing. The character of Shakespeare's Hamlet is already so full of indecisiveness that tweaking it a bit further just adds to the bizarre fun. And M. Joslyn is nothing if not steadfast, making his Yvan more and more annoying as the movie moves along.

The "mousetrap" film-within-the-film is Ophelia's high point, done as a silent movie that makes its premiere audience (all save the Gertrude and Claudius characters) laugh delightedly. Being French, of course, the film is full of ersatz philosophy and poetry, as well as labor unrest. And, yes -- this, too, adds to the humor on hand. Chabrol also has his very own ending in mind -- which is full of surprises, small and large. While not among the filmmaker's most memorable works, this is still a pleasure to see and savor.

The Blu-ray transfer I viewed was sparkling indeed: crisp and clear and a delight to watch. No extras are included on the disc, but simply to have this rarely-seen Chabrol movie available (and to see the beautiful face of Valli, above, once again) is more than worth one's time and, depending on the size of your pocketbook, one's money.

From Olive Films, Ophelia hit the street earlier this month and is available for purchase, if not perhaps for rental.

At NYC's AFA, GIMME SHELTER: HOLLYWOOD NORTH offers a few choice Canadian canapés

We don't expect to see movies that fit the term "blockbuster" coming out of Canada. The current and surprisingly popular/divisive Arrival might be the closest thing to a huge mainstream success to come from our northern neighbor in quite some time, yet it's the movie quiet intelligence and ability to draw us into its philosophical/spiritual dimension that proves its most effective weapon. Instead, Canada has long been noted for its smaller films, either art or genre items, many of which were subsidized from the 1960s through the 1980s first by the state-run Canadian Film Development Corporation (CFDC) and later by the Capitol Cost Allowance (CCA) -- the former paid for via tax-payers, the latter by tax-sheltered investments.

The results were iffy, as is usually the case with any programs like these, and a dozen of the films out of the many produced over two decades can be seen in New York City in the current Anthology Film Archives series, GIMME SHELTER: HOLLYWOOD NORTH -- beginning tomorrow, February 24, and running through March 8. On view is everything from Louis Malle's generally-acclaimed-a-classic Atlantic City and Canadian genre king Bob Clark's (Porkys and Black Christmas, the latter of which is part of this round-up) to Claude Chabrol's under-seen (and rightly so) BLOOD RELATIVES, his first film in the English language and very probably his worst, as well.

Because TrustMovies will take Chabrol's work over that of many other filmmakers, this is the film he chose to watch, having seen most of the others already. In addition to Atlantic City, the series features what may be the very best of David Cronenberg's dark and bizarre oeuvre, The Brood, as well as some pretty good genre movies like the youth-quake Class of 1984, the sort-of mystery The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane, and the early what-to-do-about-cults movie, Ticket to Heaven.

As for that Chabrol, Blood Relatives -- adapted from an Ed McBain novel by the filmmaker and Sydney Banks -- probably ought to have been made in French rather than English. Chabrol is said to have thought English worked better because McBain had written the original in that language, But the dialog is often stilted and always so prosaic that is is soon clear that Chabrol had little facility for working in English.

It is clear almost from the first scene what is going on and just who the murderer might be, so we spend the rest of the film catching up with what we already know/suspect. Along the way, we get some nice cameos from the likes of Donald Pleasance and David Hemmings, though that fine French actress Stéphane Audran (above, center right, and Mme Chabrol, for a time) is utterly wasted here.

The theme of the movie would appear to be the varied uses of sexuality and lust -- from pedophilia to near-incest to age-inappropriate couplings, but the filmmaker's usual interest in the hypocrisy of the bourgeoisie seem somewhat misplaced here. as there is no real depth to anything or anyone. Both theme and character seem paper-thin. Though never what you would call a master of the visual, Chabrol's work here seems unusually drab.

The police-procedural plot has to do with the murder of a teenage girl, with the investigation probing her somewhat odd family life and her workplace. The first half of the movie couples event with investigation; the second half, once the murder victim's diary is discovered, is told mostly in flashbacks pushing us toward the big "event."

In the leading role of the investing policeman, Donald Sutherland (above and above) hovers and is one-note, while the remaining performers range from alert to hardly memorable. Though first released in 1978, Blood Relatives didn't make it to the USA -- and then only barely -- until 1981. You'll understand why when you see the film.

To view the entire schedule for AFA's Gimme Shelter: Hollywood North, click here and then scroll down to click on each individual film for details.

Chabrol's INSPECTOR BELLAMY arrives, tardily and sadly, as a final goodbye

When Claude Chabrol died last month, you may have heard the sound, even felt the sense of a huge wave finally ebbing at last.  (Funny that Mr. Eastwood has graced us with his own big wave so soon Hereafter.) Unless I'm forgetting someone,  La Nouvelle Vague has but three filmmakers remaining alive: Agnes Varda, Jacques Rivette and Jean-Luc Godard. I wish that INSPECTOR BELLAMY (first seen in New York almost two years ago as part of the Film Society of Lincoln Center's Rendez-vous with French Cinema) were one of this master's better works, since it will be the final one we'll see. (Chabrol, shown at right, made a French TV series this past year, but it is unlikely that America will be graced with that.) Though nowhere near his best, the film is still good enough to please his fans and is worth seeing, especially for its cast and their performances. Of the French New Wave directors, no one has achieved the output -- in terms of total running time -- as  Chabrol. At 80 years old, he had made 72 films (mostly theatrical, some for TV). While Godard, who's the same age, is on record for 93 outings, many of these are not full-length. Eric Rohmer, who also died this past year, had made 51, while Rivette, who's 81, has made only 32 (but his are often long). Each of the men and Varda who make (and made) up the group of directors often associated with the New Wave are/were so spectacularly different in their style and interests, that it's no wonder, taken together, they were able to point movies in a new direction. Of them all, Chabrol seemed to be the one who had changed the least over the years. He had his interests and his style (some might suggest a lack of it) yet he continued on his path, making films that were sometimes more, sometimes less, successful with audiences and critics but that adhere to the theme of unmasking the hypocrisy residing in his characters, who often come from the haute bourgeoisie. The films usually took the shape of a mystery.

Concerning Inspector Bellamy, made because Chabrol and actor Gerard Depardieu (above, right) had wanted to work together, many of the director's favorite concerns are in place. Depardieu plays a famous inspector vacationing with his wife, played by Marie Bunuel (above left), when he comes upon a mystery involving an insurance scam, adultery, death and disguise.

As usual with Chabrol, the "mystery" seems to interest him the least -- exploring it, resolving it -- so that our attention is held more by the characters than by what they are doing, which, in any case, often borders on the ridiculous. It almost appears that no real investigation of the "crime" is being done by authorities in the city in which it took place (except by the Depardieu character, who's on a busman's holiday). Chabrol gets around this by offering excessive exposition and making repeated references to the incompetence of the local inspector-in-charge. This does not result in particularly good movie-making, though the acting by all concerned is first-rate.

Fortunately, the film has two stories going on at once, one mirroring the other in terms of emotional landscape. Depardieu's inspector has a no-account brother (Clovis Cornillac, shown above) who comes for a visit, wreaking his own havoc on the people around him, just as the "criminal," played by the ever sleek and sophisticated Jacques Gamblin, above, with toothbrush) is doing to those around him. This provides the emotional core of the movie and accounts for its working as well as it does. What looks initially like a old-fashioned nod to the portly, clever detective (Depardieu is carrying a lot of weight these days) is, in fact, a messy upheaval of raw, often repressed and mostly unresolved jealousy and anger within people who have barely begun to explore themselves, even as they are creating problems -- and worse -- for those around them. Via IFC Films, Inspector Bellamy opens this Friday, October 29, at IFC Center.  Surprisingly enough, I notice no IFC On-Demand showings for this one. Maybe later...