I would not label this movie "nouvelle vague" because it would be pejorative to describe that way a movie so harrowing ,so disturbing,so madly beautiful.Georges Franju 's hero is a sane young man,absolutely normal,he's a misfit only for his bourgeois father and the latter's desire for respectability.Sure,he leads a wild life,but when he's with his friend Stephanie,he reveals his longing for tenderness and love,this love that eludes him since he lost his mother,in mysterious circumstances,maybe because of her husband's harshness. So,the hero is not allowed to exist anymore;the best way to get rid of him is an insane asylum.Here,no possible dialogue with the shrink(Pierre Brasseur):the deal is done,all was arranged in advance with his father. In this appalling place,he meets another patient (Charles Aznavour's best role) who places his trust in another shrink(Paul Meurisse):this therapist is a much more open one,who treats his patients as human beings,and who gets good results. Franju's genius explodes everywhere:the brutal kidnapping with these cars rushing in the night,heralding the unbearably violent last scene,one of the more desperate I know;the asylum with its patients,turning round like lions in a cage;Aznavour's failed escape attempt and his suicide.Sometimes a light shines in this darkness:Stephanie (Marvelous Anouk Aimée)comes and her luminous beauty brightens up this hell on earth;A singer in the church with an angel's face (Edith Scob,
the heroine of "les yeux sans visages")breaks into a canticle and hell turns into some kind of paradise. Compared to "la tête contre les murs","les quatre cents coups" seems gentle and nice.
A masterpiece.
the heroine of "les yeux sans visages")breaks into a canticle and hell turns into some kind of paradise. Compared to "la tête contre les murs","les quatre cents coups" seems gentle and nice.
A masterpiece.