Having pissed off Occupying Nazis and Free French forces with LE CORBEAU (this masterful poison-pen thriller can be read many ways), Henri-Georges Cluozot had to wait four years to resurrect his rep with this only slightly less vicious murder-mystery/policier. Suzy Delair (who just died at 103) is a sexy flirt for professional purposes, anything to move her singing career forward, but really cares only for dour musician husband Bernard Blier. Not that he believes her, stoking a growing rage when he might with a bit more justification be jealous of Delair’s gal pal, photographer Simone Renant, currently earning a nice piece of change taking nudes of teenage girls for the same rich decrepit pervert offering to take charge of Delair’s career. But then the old creep turns up dead with too many suspects for the murder, all of them lying to each other and to shabby chief inspector Louis Jouvet, who proceeds to shuffle off with the pic. With enough twists for a season’s-worth of COLUMBOs, Clouzot, joined at the hip to regular cinematographer Armand Thirard (such compositions!, such moves!; such lighting!), keeps his balls in the air without making it look like an empty party trick. Great work from the whole cast; and a nice surprise in spotlighting the loving relationship between widowed Jouvet and a son who just happens to be black, an unusual touch at the time.
DOUBLE-BILL: While you’ve likely seen WAGES OF FEAR/'53 and DIABOLIQUE, take a step back for Clouzot's LE CORBEAU/’43.
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