|
Jean-Pierre Melville in New York like Hemingway in Paris, the dreaming visitor's besotted serenity. It begins in the galaxy of phosphorescence and hot jazz that is Times Square at night, then a brief Keatsian note, an ode to the gaslight post in front of the United Nations edifice. A missing Gallic delegate is the linchpin of the drama, a diplomatic matter or possibly a scandalous affair. The tenacious newshound (Melville) is on the case, by his side is the mercenary shutterbug (Pierre Grasset): "With a drink or a camera in hand, I feel like a man. Take them away, and it's only me." The tour of the city is a tour of mistresses, each more strikingly doleful than the last. Behind the scenes at the Mercury Theater sits the suicidal actress (Ginger Hall) garbed like Olivia de Havilland in Wyler's The Heiress, the Brooklyn burlesque hall showcases the sulky dancer (Michèlle Bailly) in top hat and cane. The blonde (Monique Hennessy) at the lavish bordello illustrates the reporter's dictum ("You can judge a civilization by its level of prostitution"), at a Capitol Records studio a rapt tracking shot for Glenda Leigh's number. "American women are very direct!" Maté's D.O.A. governs the filming, a captivating mix of grainy snapshots of subways and diners and fastidious French interiors, the mental topography of Melville's owlish deadpan. Mystery turns into dilemma, the dead politician in his lover's apartment was once a Resistance hero and is now paparazzi fodder. Dawn brings the wry punchline, the "out of focus" cynic who finds himself through a private gesture and a chuckle. Fuller in Los Angeles is simultaneous with The Crimson Kimono, the Nouvelle Vague certainly took note. With Christiane Eudes, Colette Fleury, Jean Darcante, and Paula Dehelly. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |