A very European tale of an upper-class Frenchfamily in comfortable circumstances. They get along well, love each other, and have a beautiful child. The only problem is that the wife (Audran) is bedding some other guy several afternoons a week, the husband (Bouqet) finds out about it and visits the lover, who greets Bouqet with a bemused rictus. Bouqet has an awkward exchange with him, bops him over the head with bust of Nefretiti, and disposes of the corpse in an algae-covered pond.
Audran knows nothing of this, only that her afternoon lover has done a disappearing act. During two visits from suspicious but very polite police inspectors, husband and wife both deny having known the deceased. Audran later discovers that Bouquet has been lying -- she finds her boy friend's photo and address in the pocket of one of her husband's jackets. Since she loves her husband, she destroys the evidence of his crime. A third visit from the police ends ambiguously.
Now, the French have a sense of how to do things avec élégance and indeed I doubt that this movie would have been made in Hollywood or even in France during the era of nouvelle vague. It's too deliberate, too slow, too artfully done. And we don't see anybody's brains spilled out all over the landscape. Director Chabrol has done a fine job but you need an episodic memory of more than five seconds to appreciate it.
The performances too are vaguely European. Everything is smooth except during rare arguments, and I love to see the French lose their patience with one another. Audran is an attractive lady, indignant with the carefully poised questions of the police. Bouquet is equally controlled, with the central point of his upper lip dipping somehow into his lower lip, something like a Peruvian tapir or like my gastroenterologist, Dr. Pyloris.
Someone criticized the scene in which the kid drinks a glass of champagne but when it comes to alcohol France is part of the Mediterranean tradition. Younger children may be given "red water" -- water mixed with wine. It's all highly ritualized and there's little drunkenness.
The musical score is sparse but perfectly apt. The photography captures on film a rather nice city and an even nicer country estate where a man can spend time casually trimming his plants. The British translation eledes some of the more colorful expressions.
A good job.
Audran knows nothing of this, only that her afternoon lover has done a disappearing act. During two visits from suspicious but very polite police inspectors, husband and wife both deny having known the deceased. Audran later discovers that Bouquet has been lying -- she finds her boy friend's photo and address in the pocket of one of her husband's jackets. Since she loves her husband, she destroys the evidence of his crime. A third visit from the police ends ambiguously.
Now, the French have a sense of how to do things avec élégance and indeed I doubt that this movie would have been made in Hollywood or even in France during the era of nouvelle vague. It's too deliberate, too slow, too artfully done. And we don't see anybody's brains spilled out all over the landscape. Director Chabrol has done a fine job but you need an episodic memory of more than five seconds to appreciate it.
The performances too are vaguely European. Everything is smooth except during rare arguments, and I love to see the French lose their patience with one another. Audran is an attractive lady, indignant with the carefully poised questions of the police. Bouquet is equally controlled, with the central point of his upper lip dipping somehow into his lower lip, something like a Peruvian tapir or like my gastroenterologist, Dr. Pyloris.
Someone criticized the scene in which the kid drinks a glass of champagne but when it comes to alcohol France is part of the Mediterranean tradition. Younger children may be given "red water" -- water mixed with wine. It's all highly ritualized and there's little drunkenness.
The musical score is sparse but perfectly apt. The photography captures on film a rather nice city and an even nicer country estate where a man can spend time casually trimming his plants. The British translation eledes some of the more colorful expressions.
A good job.