User Reviews

I saw this at London's National Film Theatre a couple of nights ago. The print, the best they could lay their hands on, was scratched and the colour had faded to the extent that much of it was a pinky sepia. Also, I could find very few reviews to read beforehand (zero on the IMDB). So I wasn't expecting much.

And I was therefore very pleasantly surprised. The tale of an old crooked banker who absconds to the US with a young male golddigger really works. Charles Vanel (who was so brilliant in The Wages of Fear) and Jean-Paul Belmondo are a wonderful team, as a very spiky and spiteful Father/Son relationship grows between them.

As a travelogue of a journey from New York to the Deep South it's fascinating, and reminded me, of all things, of Easy Rider, which I very much suspect it may have influenced.

There's a few problems with it, mainly due to the fact the Jean-Pierre Melville never really got the timing right when it came to editing emotional scenes (especially at the end).

But if you're a fan of the early Melville movies, Le Doulos in particular, then check it out.

Adapted from a Georges Simenon novel, Magnet of Doom (why it's called that I don't know, though the American DVD I watched had the title An Honorable Young Man) is about a young amateur boxer and ex-military man (Jean-Paul Belmondo, the cool tall smoking male of the Nouvelle Vague) who becomes a 'secretary' to an older white collar criminal (Charles Vanel) who had to leave France fast. Instead of going to Venezuela, like one might think is most logical, they head to America, first to New York and then, following a brief road trip, New Orleans.

This is where most of the story takes place - which is mostly just watching their relationship disintegrate and thoughts about taking-the-money-and-running for Belmondo (yeah, Vanel has a big stack of cash that he had to take out of his security box in New York before the feds got wise) - and it's not bad. If there's a problem it's that by the time one comes to this movie, which I didn't really know about until recently (it only got released on DVD last year I believe, and aside from a NY Film Festival screening fifty years ago it never got a release stateside), one has probably/likely seen all of Melville's other films. And it's not a major work.

Or, if it is, Melville doesn't really have a lot of energy to make it more than just an interesting B movie, no more no less. It is actually a "crime movie" if you think about it, just different because it's not about a heist or guys in trench-coats, but about an older man trying to out-run the law and... himself, I guess.

Belmondo and Vanel make up most of the heart of the picture and keep it fascinating. You want to know what each one will do next - Ferchaux needs Michel more than he needs him - amid the sweltering heat and the old man's boy-cry-wolf physical ailments. And Melville cast his two leads well. So well that it helps, a little, to distract from portions that don't work dramatically or feel dated. There's a mid-section in the film while they're on their cross-country trek that Michel stops (rather suddenly) for a female hitchhiker, and they quickly become lovers (?) in one of those Movie-Fantasy-Scenes where right after they pick her up they stop and Michel and the young woman have a swim and kiss and then... at the next stop she tries to run away with another truck driver (?)

It's something like that where Melville, whether it's through himself or Simenon's text, shows a bit of sexism, or just not knowing what to do with a female character that could have become a fully developed character or a love interest (and there IS a love interest, sorta, later in the movie in New Orleans, though I wonder if this is also an excuse to just show a woman practically naked while Michel sits drunk). It's not a criticism I'd like to make against the director but I do; he has his two main male characters fully developed, and the actors inhabit them well enough, that it disguises that everyone else in the movie has not much dimension at all. Well, maybe the bartender has a little as a mean-looking-dude of a sort.

But Melville's love of America comes through and that helps a bit. And it's interesting to see him work in color for the first time, though ironically I think I prefer when he has his more subtle, washed out and blue-ish colors in later movies like Army of Shadows and The Red Circle. Here things are bright enough (hard to tell fully from the non-Amamorphic DVD transfer), and he gets the local color about right even as it's all shot, oddly enough, in his studio in Paris (what, you thought he'd trek out to America to shoot this? Heavens no, though I'm sure a second unit for the rest of the footage).

An Honorable Young Man/Magnet of Doom has an intriguing performance from Belmondo, in terms of 'what will he do next', and some good cinematography. But there should've been a little more 'there' there, past the male camaraderie and themes of loyalty (which, yes, it's fine and well drawn enough).

I must confess I was terribly excited at the prospect of Jean-Pierre Melville tackling the road movie. If a director was ever suitable for taking on his back the existential baggage usually associated with that particular sub-genre, that's old Jean-Pierre. But in the same time, nine out of ten times there's a reason why certain films of a director's ouevre receive all the plaudits while others tend to languish in obscurity. Simply put, Magnet of Doom is not among Melville's finest - probably not his worst either. It's just too awkward and clumsy to ever be truly successful from an artistic or technical standpoint and even though fans of the director will take pleasure in witnessing the early nurturing of those same ideas, themes and moods that would later transform into what became his signature style, Magnet of Doom lacks the singularity of purpose and stylistic confidence of something like Le Samourai.

Melville weaves the plots of two characters, an amateur boxer scraping to get by after his boxing career goes down the drain and the stalwart, rich businessman on the run from the law (presumably for someone's murder) who hires the first as his secretary and travel companion, into a road movie that takes us all the way from the petit bourgouisie cafes of France to Manhattan to the Deep South and bayous of New Orleans. If you can forgive the wooden delivery and stilted dialogue American non-actors are saddled with, the choppy editing, the occasionally clumsy and haphazard camera-work, there's quite a few things to appreciate. Melville's guerilla tactics as he samples New Orleans nightlife with a camera shooting from the open car of a moving vehicle, the documentary style of his footage of empty highway stretches, slick diners, smoky bars and neon motel signs, small parts of a puzzle that in clicking together form a different kind of Americana. One seen through the eyes of a European not necessarily fascinated with what he sees. If the boxer's fixation on Frank Sinatra, the son of Italian immigrants much like himself, symbolizes the mythic quality of the New World, a motley assortment of thieving hitchhikers, soldiers spouting racial slurs and opportunist, murderous bar owners reveals the seemy underbelly of the American Dream.

Behind the slow-burn atmosphere however, behind the minimalism of the plot, the sparse dialogue, the intimacy of the monologues, all typically Melvillesque ideas and themes that would later resurface in a more refined, surefooted form, there's not much of a story to speak of. Not only is the plot stretched pretty thin, not only does it suffer from one too many improbabilities (not plot holes necessarily but little distractions that accumulate in the course of time) but it's handled in a somewhat awkward manner. The gradual shift of power in the duo's relationship, as one learns to experience freedom and the other comes to term with solitude, is not enough to carry the dramatic weight of the plot and beyond that there's not much of anything. And if Belmondo's character redeems himself in the finale for being a conniving, self-serving scoundrel for most of the film, he has the show stole from right under his nose by by the great Charles Vanel (Les Diaboliques, Wages of Fear, To Catch a Thief) who gives another terrific performance.

"Magnet of Death" is a very unusual film from writer/director Jean-Pierre Melville. While the plot involves a crook, which is pretty typical of Melville, the plot itself is most unusual as the film is a meandering road picture--one with a scant plot and plenty of quiet moments.

When the story begins, Michel (Jean-Paul Belmondo) is fighting his last boxing match. He just hasn't got what it takes and he needs to find a new job. He soon learns about an unusual job...being the traveling secretary and body guard for a rich man, Mr. Ferchaux. As for Ferchaux, he's a rich and well respected crook...a banker who soon is bound to be arrested for his many misdeeds. His plan is to skip the country and live out his life abroad...and so Michel has to be willing and able to travel with him.

The pair head to the United States because much of Ferchaux's ill-gotten wealth is in banks in America. The plan, then, is to collect his money and head to South America where there is no extradition treaty with France. However, this is all easier said than done....banks in America keep delaying him and a could FBI agents seem to be following the two men. Instead of being a gangster picture, which it seemed to be at first, it becomes a road picture...and a meandering one at that. It was as if Melville didn't have a script at times and the pair just aimlessly travel the roads of America as they head south.

While the film is an interesting character study, it also meanders too much. Overall, an odd sort of picture...and one I mildly enjoyed but nothing more.

Alternately called in English, "Magnet of Doom" or "An Honorable Young Man"--neither title doing justice to the French "L'Aîné des Ferchaux" (The Eldest of the Ferchaux Brothers), a phrase uttered in the film by Charles Vanel. Well, none of those titles is very good, but the film is pretty decent. Often seen as a detour in Jean-Pierre Melville's output, it does conform to a few of the director's themes. As a matter of fact, it could be seen as prefiguring the LE DEUXIÈME SOUFFLE (1966) in a number of ways. Vanel plays a corrupt financial partner who has to flee France ASAP--he's about to be arrested in connection with deaths of three men and is also in deep financial trouble. He hires a failed welterweight boxer--Jean-Paul Belmondo-- as a "secretary" to accompany him to the United States, where a safe deposit in his name will take care of his money problems. With a big wad of cash, the pair start off from NYC, heading south, ending up in New Orleans. Vanel is in charge all the time for the first half, but after Belmondo stops the car to pick up a female hitch hiker, he takes over, relegating Vanel to the back seat. Vanel's weaknesses become more evident as the situation becomes more and more hopeless: he's aging fast, has no real social support and his cash won't last forever. The film uses US back-roads and highways effectively and the New Orleans sequences have a noirish sense of decadence and doom. As the relationship between the two men devolves quickly into contentiousness, it's pretty seedy and unpleasant, but Melville's energetic direction--never a dull scene--should keep anyone interested. Both Vanel and the ever-watchable Belmondo are in good form and keep it all very convincing. Not one of Melville's masterworks, but a must-see for his fans.

I don't get some translated titles. The original French title literally translates as The Eldest of the Ferchaux. I have no idea where Magnet of Doom comes from. It's exploitative in implication, which is weird for a movie that's essentially a buddy road trip. It was probably an effort to oversell an independent French movie to American audiences that could be caught up in a catchy title and little else. Still, it's weird.

Anyway, Jean-Pierre Melville returns to America to collect B-roll footage and then shoot most of his movie back in his Parisian sound stages like he did on Two Men in Manhattan. This is the better of the two films, though. The earlier film was beset by a first half that never seemed to accomplish much, only partially saved by a second half that set things on the right course. Magnet of Doom is much more confident narratively from the beginning and never flags. The earlier film also had some questionable production design decisions that made the interiors of New York seem pristinely clean compared the dingy exteriors actually shot on location. The production design of the Parisian sets on the latter film is much more in line with the exteriors shot on location in America, creating a more cohesive visual experience.

Michel (Jean-Paul Belmondo) is a wannabe boxer who loses his last amateur bout before his manager drops him. Left penniless, he and his girlfriend try to figure out how to survive. He answers a newspaper ad for a secretary to a nameless client who ends up being Dieudonne Farchaux (Charles Vanel), a wealthy, older banker who has decided that he needs to go on the lam. In his youth in Africa, he threw a grenade at three black men to defend himself and the colonial government has kept the investigation alive well past the original statute of limitations. There are threats that it will be the basis for action against Farchaux along with any list of things that wealthy bankers do to attain their station. So, under cover of darkness, he hires Michel and takes a plane to New York.

In New York, his mission is to collect as much of his money as he can before he flees to Venezuela. His bankers give him a hard time because it's obvious that the French government is angling to get him back, though they haven't gone through the proper procedures for extradition yet. He accuses them of wanting to simply keep his money to build some new branches, and settles for just grabbing what he can from a safety deposit box at another bank. With that cash, the pair head south.

The meat of this film is the relationship between Michel and Farchaux, and that really begins on the departure from New York. Michel, a young man who has failed at the one major thing he tried and also run out on his girlfriend back in France for this job, looks to this older man of questionable morals, perhaps a potential role model, and wonders when Farchaux thinks of him. Farchaux won't give an answer, keeping a distance between them, but the trip through Virginia and eventually into Louisiana reveals much.

They reach a diner. Michel puts on some Frank Sinatra on the jukebox. Two American military men walk in, turn it off, and put on more contemporary music. Michel asks for them to be polite. They refuse. He knocks them both down, and they immediately become friends for the rest of the pair's time in the diner. Farchaux can appreciate a young man fighting for what he sees as his. Things go a bit sour when Michel decides to pick up a pretty female hitchhiker. Farchaux wants nothing to do with it, and when Michel takes the girl to a riverbed to frolic for a bit, Farchaux takes the suitcase of money he has and throws all of the bills down the roadside. He keeps enough to get him to Caracas in an effort to maintain control of the situation, but Michel and the girl simply go down to the riverbank and pick up as much of the money that's still sitting there. Farchaux realizes that he's taken on a young man who can dominate him in a one-on-one competition of masculinity.

After a brief episode where the girl tries to steal all the money and she ends up on the side of the road with nothing, the French men end up in a remote house in the bayous of Louisiana. The road element is really just the middle third of the film, and the final third settles into a psychological duel between Farchaux and Michel that is reminiscent of Les Enfants Terribles and Quand tu Liras cette Lettres. It's not as impactful as either of those examples, perhaps because there's no sexual energy between the two characters here, but it's largely functional. Farchaux feigns illness after illness in their remote house to keep Michel around, afraid of being alone in a world that wishes him harm. Michel wants freedom, and he often goes to Jeff's Bar owned by Jeff (Todd Martin) just to get away. Jeff was an American GI in the War, stationed in France and who speaks French to Michel and spent some time in prison. He also takes a night to go to New Orleans where he meets a French dancer, Lou (Michele Mercier).

Farchaux, realizing that he's much more dependent on Michel than the other way around, grows increasingly desperate, but Michel is not sympathetic to the man who wishes to control him. The finale of the film is Michel needing to deal with his history of abandoning people (namely his girlfriend in France), Jeff taking advantage of the situation, and Farchaux reaching his lowest point.

Belmondo and Vanel work together well. They don't really have the kind of chemistry to give the great impact to the ending of the film. I think that has as much to do with the writing as their acting. They never quite get close enough for the breaks in their relationship to impact the audience. Perhaps a stronger emphasis on a father/son relationship instead of taking it towards a more psychological duel direction early would have helped. Their relationship ends up feeling a bit too antagonistic early, I think.

The film as a whole fits very comfortably into Melville's filmography. In fact, it might be the most Melville of his films. It doesn't have the emotional punch of something like Le Doulos, the creepy atmosphere of Les Enfants Terribles, or exquisite tension of Bob le Flambeur. It's a more pedestrian effort from Melville, though it does maintain interest from beginning to end. It's not the technical success of some of his earlier films or the emotional journey as others, but it works.

Even though I have always enjoyed Melville's films, I had never heard of "L'Aine des Ferchaux" until it was on TCM this past week. I'm bowled over. It was amazing!

The American title is "Magnet of Doom." Before I saw the film, I thought, "This is the best movie title ever. There's no way the film can live up to it. And not only does it live up to it, but it exceeds it in every way!

Down and out boxer Jean-Paul Belmondo is hired to drive a disgraced, on-the-run, banker Charles Vanel across the backroads of the US, from NYC to New Orleans, in Kennedy-era 1962, kind of like a proto-"Green Book"... except "The Green Book" sucks and "L'Aine des Ferchaux" is amazing!

I loved seeing the cold/stoic characters of French Film Noir thrown into the over-the-top world that's also occupied by American films like "Cool Hand Luke," "Midnight Cowboy," "Easy Rider," Tennessee Williams, and even "Hurry, Sundown." It's film noir, it's a road trip, and it's also a fantastic widescreen/color travelogue of JFK-era US in 1962. Belmondo even visits Sinatra's home in Hoboken, and he brawls with toughs in a diner, like Rock Hudson does in "Giant." Much of the dialogue is in English, too.

European directors sometimes pick up on little nuances of Americana that American filmmakers miss. Here, I'm thinking of this film, but also of Wim Wenders' "Paris, Texas." This film is full of small details that only a European outsider would notice (Melville is definitely fetishizing Chevrolets, roadside motels, lady hitchhikers, and American rock and roll), plus a few comedic set-pieces that seem to be right out of David Lynch or John Waters.

The score by Georges Delerue is excellent, and it stays in your head, long after the film is over.

This film is sometimes left out of Melville retrospectives, because it's less somber than some of his other films, and I guess Melville purists don't like it. I enjoy the director's other movies, but I also really liked this one a lot. Entertaining and fun, from beginning to end.

As some of the other reviews have already stated, the print of the movie that is available is very poor. So it is not quite clear whether Melville wanted to have the washed-out look of the picture or whether it is just plain bad quality. Even rare TV screenings do not offer an improved version (ARTE). The relationship between the young ex-paratrooper/boxer/secretary (Belmondo) and the old bank owner/colonial adventurer (Vanel) is quite interesting and also stands for the generational conflict of the 1960s. Obviously, some of the plot is somewhat stretched but the tension between the main characters is excellently played out. Melville wanted Spencer Tracy for the Vanel part, but Tracy's health situation made any form of outdoor filming (not to mention insurance for this) Impossible. Belmondo, who is fooling around in Godard's "Breathless" and posing as a Bogart style tough guy, really plays a film noir character in this one. The way he treats his girlfriend at the beginning of the movie makes his protagonist almost unlikeable. In the damp Louisiana setting at the end of the movie, the whole affair really turns into a veritable noir.

Jean-Pierre Melville made this unwatchable drama at the height of his power reteaming with Belmondo just after their masterpiece Le Doulos. One the worst movies ever made by a great director.

This film is more notable for the way it punctuates 1962 and the performance it teases out of Jean-Paul Belmondo than for being a typical Melville masterpiece. We can't help but lean into the real urban street scenes - Paris here, New York there, New Orleans towards the end of the journey - and feel ourselves being absorbed into a reality most of us know of but never experienced: One Rochechouart diner's newspaper headlines the precarious health of Edith Piaf, the neon signs of Broadway reference the Cuban Naval Blockade on one side of the street and West Side Story on the other, black & white segregation becomes plain as day as we draw closer to the American South, and so on.

Why are we taking this journey? Because disillusioned boxer Michel Maudet (Belmondo) has taken a job to help cunning, corrupt banker, Dieudonné Ferchaux (Charles Vanel) evade French justice. The banker couldn't fit the sociopath archetype better and - to him at least - Maudet seems like a naive apprentice. It quickly becomes apparent however that he has met his match and a power struggle ensues. Belmondo sidelines us with a performance that breaks the mould almost as much as his lead in that other Melville film, Léon Morin, Prêtre. Vanel is more intense and menacing than I've seen him in any other film, and that is quite something given his advanced years.

Interestingly, the film heads toward a sentimental conclusion that is somewhat out of character for Melville, and although his Direction is notably flawed here and there (I suspect due to language barrier issues with American actors), there's plenty to make up for it. Recommended? Absolutely.

I always watched Melville's films with mixed feelings, feeling alienated from them by their detachment, sometimes cynicism, sometimes callousness and their lack of human involvement and compassion, their detachment almost touching on inhuman indifference. This story was written by Georges Simenon, who always wrote tons of books and stories of crime and the fallacy of human nature, never presenting any heroes or ideals. Melville has added to the story, and as all his films it is extremely well done, just the introductory scene in the boxing ring is a virtuoso proof, and the music is good also, but what is lacking then? Like in most French films the detachment becomes to frigid. Although there is no sexism in this film, and you certainly don't miss it, still there is also no romanticism at all, although two girls are involved, one abandoned and the other a strip teaser. What you lack is true human feelings, which only the old Charles Vanel shows to some degree, as an old sick man desperately needing supporting company. Claude Chabrol is even worse, while Melville at least is a great cinematographic aesthete with a high developed sense of style.