Quai des Orfèvres (aka Jenny Lamour) was directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot who was blacklisted for a few years in France after being accused of collaborating with the Nazis. But his reputation was so sterling that there were enough voices in the film community that demanded his return. The result was a film that garnered quite a bit of critical acclaim often described as a "police procedural."
In many quarters the film is hailed as a masterpiece but despite some significant good points, I wouldn't go so far as to rate this one as particularly impressive.
The plot is pretty much given away early on except for a twist or two. Marguerite Chauffournier, alias Jenny Lamour (Suzy Delair), is an actress and nightclub singer who has aspirations for a much bigger career in the movies. Her piano accompanist husband Maurice Martineau (Bernard Blier) is insanely jealous, and when he learns Jenny is to meet with the lecherous much older film producer Brignon (Charles Dullin) who offers her a film role, he goes over to the man's apartment intending to shoot him to death.
But when Maurice arrives, he finds Brignon already dead. What's more he has his car stolen outside and must rush back to the theater where he was attempting to establish his alibi with whom various theater people he works.
To compound the suspense, Jenny confides in her friend, Dora (Simone Renant), a theatre photographer, that she killed Brignon by hitting him over the head with a wine bottle after he made advances toward her. Jenny realizes she left her mink stole at Brignon's and Dora runs over there, erases the fingerprints on the bottle and retrieves Jenny's coat.
Enter quirky Inspector Antoine (Louis Jouvet) who methodically unravels the mystery as to what happened. Since we already know a good deal of what occurred, only a few details are filled in as a result of Antoine's investigation. Eventually Maurice's alibi goes awry and he's on the verge of being charged with the film producer's murder.
After attempting suicide, Jenny fesses up but then Dora confesses (as she is gay and is in love with Jenny).
All's well that ends well when the Inspector figures out that none of the three principals had anything to do with the murder but it was the man who stole Maurice's car who was responsible (prior to that robbery, he attempted to rob Brignon but panicked and shot him after seeing him bleeding from Jenny's attack with the wine bottle).
All the performances are fine but it's the script that's a bit of a letdown. Part of the problem is that Jenny and Maurice simply aren't very likable characters. After all Maurice with his insane jealousy actually went over to the film producer's apartment to presumably kill him (it's not clear whether he would have gone through with the act). And Jenny's affection for the pathetic Maurice is a trifle hard to accept given the noxious way he treats her throughout most of the film.
On the other hand, the film's open treatment of sexuality is a refreshing contrast to Hollywood films of the day. Not only is raw language fraught with some frank sexual talk and innuendoes but homosexuality is also treated with an openness that you would never see in an American film of that time. What's more they have Antoine raising an adopted multi-racial child which also proves to be a neat conceit.
Quai des Orfèvres ends on a sentimental note with the husband and wife basically reconciling. What's really to cheer about when we've been treated to approximately 106 minutes of acrimony best described as fairly "obnoxious"?
In many quarters the film is hailed as a masterpiece but despite some significant good points, I wouldn't go so far as to rate this one as particularly impressive.
The plot is pretty much given away early on except for a twist or two. Marguerite Chauffournier, alias Jenny Lamour (Suzy Delair), is an actress and nightclub singer who has aspirations for a much bigger career in the movies. Her piano accompanist husband Maurice Martineau (Bernard Blier) is insanely jealous, and when he learns Jenny is to meet with the lecherous much older film producer Brignon (Charles Dullin) who offers her a film role, he goes over to the man's apartment intending to shoot him to death.
But when Maurice arrives, he finds Brignon already dead. What's more he has his car stolen outside and must rush back to the theater where he was attempting to establish his alibi with whom various theater people he works.
To compound the suspense, Jenny confides in her friend, Dora (Simone Renant), a theatre photographer, that she killed Brignon by hitting him over the head with a wine bottle after he made advances toward her. Jenny realizes she left her mink stole at Brignon's and Dora runs over there, erases the fingerprints on the bottle and retrieves Jenny's coat.
Enter quirky Inspector Antoine (Louis Jouvet) who methodically unravels the mystery as to what happened. Since we already know a good deal of what occurred, only a few details are filled in as a result of Antoine's investigation. Eventually Maurice's alibi goes awry and he's on the verge of being charged with the film producer's murder.
After attempting suicide, Jenny fesses up but then Dora confesses (as she is gay and is in love with Jenny).
All's well that ends well when the Inspector figures out that none of the three principals had anything to do with the murder but it was the man who stole Maurice's car who was responsible (prior to that robbery, he attempted to rob Brignon but panicked and shot him after seeing him bleeding from Jenny's attack with the wine bottle).
All the performances are fine but it's the script that's a bit of a letdown. Part of the problem is that Jenny and Maurice simply aren't very likable characters. After all Maurice with his insane jealousy actually went over to the film producer's apartment to presumably kill him (it's not clear whether he would have gone through with the act). And Jenny's affection for the pathetic Maurice is a trifle hard to accept given the noxious way he treats her throughout most of the film.
On the other hand, the film's open treatment of sexuality is a refreshing contrast to Hollywood films of the day. Not only is raw language fraught with some frank sexual talk and innuendoes but homosexuality is also treated with an openness that you would never see in an American film of that time. What's more they have Antoine raising an adopted multi-racial child which also proves to be a neat conceit.
Quai des Orfèvres ends on a sentimental note with the husband and wife basically reconciling. What's really to cheer about when we've been treated to approximately 106 minutes of acrimony best described as fairly "obnoxious"?