Twisted Nerve (1968)

Twisted Nerve is a 1968 British suspense thriller starring Hayley Mills, although it’s a bit more than just a straightforward suspense film.

Martin Durnley (Hywel Bennett) is a slightly odd young man. His brother Georgie had to be put away in a home. Georgie suffers from a genetic abnormality. He still has the mind of a toddler.

There are perhaps a number of reasons for Martin’s oddness. His father died, his mother remarried, and he hates and despises his stepfather. The family is extremely rich, so Martin has always been coddled and spoilt and the family money has always come to his rescue when he gets into scrapes. It’s also possible that he has suffered from anxiety, fearing he might be abnormal in some way as well. HIs mother has always feared that might be the case - perhaps her anxieties have rubbed off on Martin. Martin is in fact rather intelligent, but he’s irresponsible, difficult, rebellious and trouble-prone.

Quite by accident he encounters a very pretty very charming young woman, Susan Harper (Hayley Mills), in a toy shop. Martin steals a very cheap toy and is caught. He pretends to be simple-minded and pretends that his name is Georgie. In fact he has in a way adopted his brother’s identity. It works. The store manager is sympathetic and Susan feels sorry for him that she pays for the stolen toy. Martin has no difficulty in fooling people into thinking that he has the mind of a five-year-old.

Martin starts following Susan. He meets her again. Susan lives in a slightly unusual household as well - she lives with her mother Joan (Billie Whitelaw), a young Indian medical student who is the lodger, and also Joan Harper’s live-in lover Gerry Henderson (Barry Foster).

Martin turns up on the doorstep, in the pouring rain, more child-like than ever and apparently with nowhere to go. Susan insists that he be allowed to stay. So he moves in.

This is where the movie gets interesting, with all sorts of disturbing sexual tensions. Both Susan and her mother Joan think Martin has the mind of a small child but they also cannot help noticing that physically he is a very attractive young man with a rather nice body. Susan isn’t at all sure how she feels. Martin does get a bit physically affectionate at times. Joan is definitely sexually attracted to him, which of course makes her rather confused and uneasy.

We know this is not going to end well. What makes it more interesting is that we really don’t know at first just how genuinely child-like Martin is. Intellectually, in some ways, he’s an adult. Physically he’s an adult. We always have to keep in mind the complexity of the characterisation. Martin is pretending to be child-like both intellectually and emotionally but he really is child-like emotionally.

It’s obvious that his mother has never wanted him to grow up, and it’s obvious that he has discovered certain advantages in not growing up. He can get away with being irresponsible. He can behave like a naughty small boy (as he does when he steals the cheap toy) and get away with it. He can remain in many ways a spoilt little boy.

It’s very clear that this has had consequences for his sexual development. He has never learnt to deal with women on adult level. He has never even got as far as dealing with girls on the level of an awkward teenager. He deals with females on the level of a small child but he is physically mature and has normal male sexual urges. It’s obvious that he regards sex with guilt, shame and fear.

He is not only probably a virgin - he appears to have major guilt, shame and fear in regard to any kind of sexual arousal, so he cannot even satisfy his sexual urges through self-pleasuring. The early scene with the mirror, and the final scene with another mirror, make it obvious that a soon as he becomes sexually aroused the guilt, shame and fear kick in and he can go no further. He has at least two opportunities for sex in the movie and in both cases he cannot go through with it.

As a result he feels inadequate, which accounts for his odd fixation on Tarzan and on bodybuilding. They’re wish-fulfilment fantasies of normal masculinity.

The writing credits include two very notable names. Roger Marshall was one of the greatest of all British television writers, the man who created the best TV private eye series ever made, Public Eye. Leo Marks wrote the notorious (and superb) Peeping Tom and there are definite similarities between Peeping Tom and Twisted Nerve. The experienced and reliable Roy Boulting directed.

This was an incredibly fascinating era in British cinema. British censorship in the 60s was draconian. This started to relax right at the end of the decade. By the late 60s British filmmakers were increasingly restive under these restrictions. They wanted to make grown-up movies, and they wanted to deal with love, sex and human relationships honesty and openly. This led to a spate of fascinating movies including All the Right Noises (1970), Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush (1968), Baby Love (1969) and the superb I Start Counting (1969). And although it’s usually dismissed as a sex comedy I would add Pete Walker’s excellent Cool It, Carol! (1970) to the list.

It was also a time of media frenzy about the “permissive society” which led to interesting if depressing movies such as Her Private Hell (1968) and Permissive (1970).

Twisted Nerve is a very dark extremely well-executed suspense thriller with a nicely subtle sense of creeping menace. Highly recommended.

Umbrella’s Blu-Ray offers a lovely transfer with a number of extras.

The Greene Murder Case (1929)

The Greene Murder Case was the second of Paramount’s Philo Vance murder mysteries and the second of four outings for William Powell as Philo Vance. Many other actors later got to play the role but truly there was only ever one screen Philo Vance and that was Bill Powell.

The detective story had been around for quite a while but in the early 1920s a new variant appeared - the fair-play puzzle-plot mystery. It was understood that the clues had to be there to allow the reader to solve the mystery. It was up to the author to provide enough misdirection to make sure this didn’t happen. This new type of murder mystery first appeared in Britain. S. S. Van Dine (real name Willard Huntington Wright) has a strong claim to having introduced the form to American readers. He was certainly the one who popularised this new type of detective story in the United States.

It didn’t take long for Hollywood to get interested. Van Dine’s first novel was published in 1926. The first movie adaptation, The Canary Murder Case, came out in 1929.

It’s worth pointing out that this movie was released before the Wall Street Crash. At this stage Hollywood was still booming and it’s obvious that Paramount spent quite a bit of money on The Greene Murder Case. It’s technically quite ambitious with some rather nifty shots. I love the overhead shots of the roof garden. The sets do not look cheap. There’s a well-conceived well-executed action finale.

The Greene family is very rich and clearly very dysfunctional. Old Tobias Greene left one of those nasty wills calculated to cause his heirs a lot of inconvenience and misery. To inherit his money they have to live in the Greene mansion for fifteen years, not a very pleasant prospect since they all hate each other. Old Tobias’s widow is paralysed. She’s miserable and querulous. The elder son, Chester (Lowell Drew), is a good-for-nothing layabout. The younger son, Rex (Morgan Farley), is a neurotic mess. The elder sister Sibella (Florence Eldridge) is a bit of a party girl. The younger sister Ada (Jean Arthur) is adopted. She’s sweet but nervy. There’s also the family doctor Dr Von Blon who seems to spend most of his life at the Greene mansion.

Now somebody seems intent on killing off the family one by one. Gentleman dilettante detective Philo Vance handles difficult cases for District Attorney John F. X. Markham on a semi-official basis. He is invariably assisted by Detective Sergeant Heath (Eugene Pallette). Lots of things about this case puzzle Vance. The killer seems to be staying one step ahead all the time.

It’s a neat plot. Anybody in the Greene household could be a suspect, given that they certainly all hate each other enough to start killing each other. This is pretty much a fair-play mystery. The clues are there.

William Powell is of course marvellous. Not everybody likes the Philo Vance of the novels but Powell softens the character a bit, taking the edge off his arrogance. And he has that William Powell charm.

One thing I really like is that the film resists the temptation to make Sergeant Heath a comic relief character. Heath is often wrong but his reasoning is far from foolish. He’s a competent policeman and Vance clearly respects his professionalism. At no time does Vance make Heath the butt of jokes. It’s obvious that despite their very different backgrounds these two men like each other.

Jean Arthur is good as the perpetually somewhat frightened Ada. The supporting performers are all quite good, with Morgan Farley as Rex being the only one who goes a little over the top at times.

Director Frank Tuttle is sometimes dismissed as a hack which is a bit unfair. He handles things here with reasonable skill and he keeps the pacing taut.

The Greene mansion itself becomes a character in the movie. The layout of the house is important, as is the atmosphere.

Very early talkies have a reputation for being clunky, with too many excessively static shots. That’s not the case here. Frank Tuttle’s directing is rather lively. The actors on the whole seem quite comfortable with the new sound format.

The Greene Murder Case is a fine murder mystery. Highly recommended.

This movie is included in Kino Lorber’s three-movie Philo Vance Blu-Ray boxed set. The Greene Murder Case gets a very nice transfer. As is usually the case these days the audio commentary is best dispensed with.

I've also reviewed the wonderful The Kennel Murder Case, also with Powell as Vance.

Judex (1963)

Georges Franju’s Judex, released in 1963, is based on Louis Feuillade’s famous and influential 1916 serial of the same name. Judex is a mysterious vigilante crime-fighter. 

Franju made the decision to keep to a period setting. It was a good decision. There is a hint that the movie in fact takes place in 1914. He also decided to shoot the movie in black-and-white. The intention was clearly to capture both the tone and the look of the original serial.

The movie starts slowly so you have to be a bit patient at first. Then we get to the masked ball scene, with all the bird masks. It’s a bit creepy and disturbing and the way it’s filmed makes it feel more odd. This is where the movie starts to get interesting.

The story begins with rich banker Favraux (Michel Vitold) receiving a letter from the mysterious Judex. Favraux is to give half his fortune to his victims by midnight or face the consequences. Favraux’s fortune has been amassed by decidedly dishonest means.

Favraux also has quite a bit of blood on his hands.

Judex means to bring Favraux to justice and he obviously intends this justice to be swift and final, without the tiresome necessity to involve the proper authorities. Judex is however a just man and he is determined that no harm should come to the banker’s daughter Jacqueline (Edith Scob). She has given proof of her honesty and virtue. Jacqueline has a little girl.

Favraux has been pursuing the little girl’s governess, Marie Verdier (Francine Bergé). He wants her to be his mistress. If necessary he will even marry her.

Having Judex coming after him is bad enough but Favraux has other problems although he isn’t yet aware of them. Judex is not the only one targeting him. There are others, and they are targeting him for other reasons.

As the movie progresses the plot gradually becomes more outrageous and more reliant on coincidence and just generally much more fun, and much more in the spirit of the original serial. There are all the plot devices you could ask for. There are secret passageways, kidnappings, hidden cameras, people being drugged, narrow escapes, and rooftop chases.

Also involved is private detective Cocantrin (Jacques Jouanneau). At first we assume he’s going to be a stereotypical bumbling private eye but he turns out to be at least moderately competent.

Initially I felt that Channing Pollock was perhaps a little bit bland as Judex but I’m inclined to think that may have been deliberate. Judex is after all an enigma. Interestingly Channing Pollock was a very successful stage magician before trying his hand at acting. He gets to do some magic tricks here. I would still have preferred a hero with a bit more charisma.

It’s the women who stand out. Edith Scob brings a fragile beauty to the role of the virtuous heroine Jacqueline ad she’s likeable.

Sylva Koscina is a delight (and looks totally gorgeous) as Cocantrin’s circus acrobat friend Daisy.

But what a movie like this really needs is a fine sexy bad girl. And Francine Bergé as Marie Verdier delivers the goods in great style. She gets to wear a variety of rather wonderful costumes and even disguises herself as a disturbingly sexy nun. She totally dominates the movie. We’re shocked by her wickedness but we love her for it. All the world loves a bad girl.

It’s amusing to see one of the characters reading one of the Fantômas novels of Marcel Allain and Pierre Souvestre, Fantômas being the great French pulp fiction arch-criminal. Louis Feuillade made three ground-breaking serials between 1913 - Fantômas, Les Vampires and Judex.

On the whole this is enjoyable stuff although perhaps it needed just a tad more energy, and a tad more visual flamboyance. It’s the wonderful villainess who is by far the film’s biggest asset. Recommended, and Francine Bergé is enough to promote it to the highly recommended category.

The Criterion DVD looks good once you manage to remove it from its case, a task that is easily accomplished with the aid of a crowbar and gelignite.

The Canary Murder Case (1929)

The Canary Murder Case is both an incredibly important movie historically and an oddity. Its importance lies in the fact that it’s one of the first detective story movies made with sound, and you can see the way the challenges presented by the genre were approached. Its oddity lies in the fact that it’s a hybrid - it was shot as a silent movie and then turned into a sound picture. That accounts for its peculiarities and its weaknesses.

S. S. Van Dine (real name Willard Huntington Wright) was the most significant pioneer of the new style of detective story - the fair-play puzzle-plot mystery - in the United States. Paramount saw the cinematic possibilities immediately. In 1929, just three years after Van Dine’s first novel was published, they released the first cinematic adaptation.

The opening sequence is fascinating. It introduces us to the Canary (Louise Brooks) but it was shot for the original silent version so instead of hearing her sing we see her on a swing, sailing above the heads of the audience. It works superbly. It’s unusual and striking and it’s a fantastic way to introduce Louise Brooks and to show off her glamour and seductiveness. This is a girl who likes to play. We’re not at all surprised to find out that she likes to play with men.

The Canary is nightclub star Margaret O’Dell (Louise Brooks), and she’s a very bad girl. At the time the Canary would have been described as a vamp but she is in fact a figure who would become familiar in movies in the 40s - the femme fatale. The Canary is a blackmailer but it’s not money that she wants. She’s more ambitious than that. She intends to blackmail the young and foolish Jimmy Spotswoode into marrying her. Jimmy is heir to a fortune but more importantly he is part of the social elite. And the Canary is determined to be part of that social elite.

She is also blackmailing a number of very rich middle-aged men.

This leads to murder and since the plot contains some rather cool elements I will be very very vague about it. There are at least five suspects.

The very early sound pictures have a reputation for being clunky, with too many excessively static shots. Various technical problems initially experienced with the sound recording technology made static camera setups necessary. It also meant that if you wanted to shoot a movie fairly quickly it was desirable to use very few sets, and very simple sets.

It took a while to find an easy convenient solution to that. The Canary Murder Case does suffer from having very static camera setups which gives it a stagey feel. And there are too many scenes shot on the same one or two very bare sets (such as the District Attorney’s office) using the exact same camera angles.

The Canary Murder Case was in fact shot as a silent picture. It was directed by Malcolm St. Clair. Reshoots were needed to turn it into a sound picture (these were done by Frank Tuttle). Those very static scenes are presumably among the reshoots. Dialogue was also dubbed over silent footage. The biggest problem was that Louise Brooks refused to do any of the reshoots. As a result her voice was dubbed (horribly) by another actress. The Canary Murder Case destroyed Brooks’ career in Hollywood, which is sad because it was a great role that should have boosted her career.

It’s interesting to compare this movie to the next in the Paramount series, The Greene Murder Case, released just six months later. The technical problems associated with sound had been solved. The second movie was directed with energy and flair by Frank Tuttle. The Greene Murder Case has none of that clunky static early talkie feel. It also had a bigger budget and some very cool sets. Progress in sound picture production was breathtakingly fast.

One thing needs to be said about the detective hero of the story, Philo Vance (played by William Powell). Vance is not a rich American. He is an upper-class American. He is from a family who are very much Old Money. He is American aristocracy. As such he has had an education and upbringing very much like that of an English gentleman of that era. He is highly cultured. Like Willard Huntington Wright himself he is an aesthete. He has the exquisite manners of a gentleman. But it would be a mistake to think that he is effete. He is entirely masculine, but in the self-assured manner of a gentleman. He is an upper-class American of a type that no longer exists, which can cause the character to be misunderstood.

Many actors went on to play Vance. William Powell is the only one who counts. Powell was born to play Philo Vance. He is a joy to watch.

Eugene Pallette as Detective Sergeant Heath is always fun. The other actors are competent but a bit stiff, probably because when this movie went into production in 1928 no-one was quite sure how to approach acting in this new medium, the talking picture. Louise Brooks looks fabulous but as I mentioned earlier her voice was dubbed which somewhat ruins her performance.

For all its problems The Canary Murder Case has its virtues. It has an excellent plot with some clever and ingenious elements. The poker game is a fascinating example of the use of psychology in crime-solving. There are plot devices that might seem clichéd today but in the late 20s when the novel was written and when the film was made these were fresh and exciting plot devices. And they’re executed pretty well.

If you can ignore its technical flaws The Canary Murder Case is quite enjoyable and it’s recommended.

This movie is part of Kino Lorber’s three-movie Philo Vance Blu-Ray boxed set. It gets a very nice transfer.

I’ve also reviewed The Greene Murder Case and The Kennel Murder Case (1933).

Top Hat (1935)

Top Hat was the fourth of the RKO musicals featuring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers but it is the first real full-blown Astaire-Rogers film. They’d played supporting roles in movies like Flying Down To Rio (a fun movie in its own way) and Roberta (an awful movie redeemed only by their presence). Top Hat was conceived right from the start as an Astaire-Rogers picture and a star vehicle for the duo. It’s extraordinary that it took so long for RKO to figure out that yes, these two could effortlessly carry a movie between them.

We don’t need to trouble ourselves too much with the plot. It’s standard farce (albeit superbly executed). Jerry Travers (Astaire) is in London to star in a new show promoted by Horace Hardwick (Edward Everett Horton). Jerry meets Dale Tremont (Ginger Rogers) under inauspicious circumstances. She thinks he’s incredibly irritating. He’s besotted by her. The main plot point is a case of mistaken identity. Dale thinks that Jerry is Horace and that he’s a married man. She’s attracted to him but Dale does not steal other women’s men. There is no way she is going to get involved with him.

There’s more confusion regarding Alberto Beddini (Erik Rhodes). Horace suspects that Dale is a kept woman, that she is Beddini’s mistress. In fact their relationship is quite innocent. He’s a fashion designer and she is his top model.

Much romantic confusion ensues.

Astaire and Rogers demonstrate why they were such a dazzling movie couple. The chemistry is there between them right from the start. RKO’s doubts about Astaire had a lot to do the fact that he was balding and did not have conventional matinee idol looks. But he had charisma, charm, vitality and style and these are things that women go for in a big way. We have no difficulty understanding why Dale is fascinated by him and attracted to him. Rogers had plenty of charm and charisma herself and her likeability factor was off the scale. We have no difficulty understanding why Jerry is crazy about her.

The contribution of Ginger Rogers to this movie must not be underestimated. She’s Astaire’s acting partner as well as dancing partner. There’s the dancing chemistry but the chemistry between them goes much further. There’s emotional chemistry and Ginger Rogers has a way of subtly letting us know that there’s erotic chemistry as well.

And of course there’s the dancing. Astaire had complete control over that - not just the dances but the way they were shot. What really made the dancing memorable in these movies is that Astaire used the dances to tell the love story. These are courtship dances. This is a man and a woman gradually figuring out how they feel about each other, through the dances.

The fact that Astaire had total control over not just the staging but the filming of the dances gave him in effect a huge degree of creative control over the movie. What made Top Hat important is that this control allowed Astaire to revolutionise the movie musical.

The other outstanding feature of the RKO Astaire-Rogers movies is their visual magnificence, and this is very much because they were shot in black-and-white. Filmed in colour they would have looked gaudy and cheap and vulgar. They needed the cool crisp elegance that can only be achieved by black-and-white cinematography.

And by this time the black-and-white aesthetic had been perfected. Everything, from the sets to the costumes to the makeup, was done to look stunning when filmed in black-and-white. Black-and-white also adds to the Art Deco feel. To make this work you don’t just need cinematographers who understand black-and-white. You need set designers and costume designers and makeup artists who understand how to make the movie look stunning in black-and-white. That’s why you can’t do black-and-white today. By this time Hollywood had a couple of decades of experience making feature films in black-and-white. That expertise is long gone.

The other thing I love is the extreme artificiality. There are scenes that take place in Venice. It’s not just that we don’t believe for one second we’re in Venice, what’s great is that we’re not supposed to. These scenes are supposed to look like they’e shot on a sound stage. We are not supposed for one second to believe that this movie takes place in the real world. The rejection of realism is uncompromising. This is a fantasy world.

There were of course other very talented people making huge inputs into Top Hat. Von Nest Polglase as head of ROKO’s art department got the art director’s credit but it appears that the magnificent sets were the work of Carroll Clark. David Abel’s mastery of black-and-white cinematography didn’t hurt. Astaire had a close and amicable working relation with director Mark Sandrich and producer Pandro S. Berman and they made their contributions.

The gowns designed by Bernard Newman don’t just make Ginger Roger looks fabulous, they follow the evolution of her feeling. In the dance in the gazebo she is trying to keep Jerry at a distance. She is wearing a cute feminine riding habit but she’s all buttoned up tight, as if she’s wearing armour. In the climactic dance she wears the famous feather dance. She has discarded her armour. She is ready to give herself to him as a woman. Nothing in this movie is accidental.

Edward Everett Horton, Erik Rhodes, Eric Blore and Helen Broderick are wonderful in supporting roles.

Top Hat was a massive box office hit, the most successful of all the Astaire-Rogers movies. It was RKO’s biggest hit of the 30s.

Top Hat is a delight from start to finish. This is the Astaire-Rogers formula at its most perfect. Very highly recommended.

Lady of Burlesque (1943)

Lady of Burlesque is a 1943 comedy/mystery directed by William A. Wellman and starring Barbara Stanwyck. It’s a murder mystery set in a burlesque theatre.

Dixie Daisy (Barbara Stanwyck) is the headliner at S.B. Foss’s burlesque theatre. There are the usual backstage dramas. There are romantic entanglements between the girls and the male comics. One of the girls is involved with Louie Grindero (Gerald Mohr), a slightly shady ex-racketeer. The stage manager doesn’t like burlesque artistes. The haughty Princess Nirvena (Stephanie Bachelor) is no princess but she has plenty of attitude and doesn’t get along with anyone. Dixie and Lolita La Verne (Victoria Faust) don’t get along at all. Comic Biff Brannigan (Michael O’Shea) is crazy about Dixie but she doesn’t share his feelings.

But these are all just the usual dramas you expect in any theatre. They’re not likely to lead to anything serious. They’re certainly not likely to lead to murder.

But something does lead to murder.

Almost everybody in the theatre is a suspect. There are performers and stage hands constantly wandering about all over the place so anyone could have entered the dressing room at the time of murder.

With so many romantic dramas and jealousies almost anyone could conceivably have had a motive. And there are plenty of suspects without rock-solid alibis.

The murder weapon was a G-string. A G-string that has now mysteriously disappeared.

This is nothing startling in the plotting department but it’s a perfectly decent murder mystery.

As you might expect the movie’s biggest asset is Barbara Stanwyck. This is a semi-comic movie and Stanwyck can handle that sort of thing with ease. She also gets to be sexy. She has no problem with that either. She can certainly be a sassy wise-cracking dame. And she does some remarkably energetic dancing.

The movie’s biggest problem was of course the Production Code. An inherently sexy story had to be made squeaky clean. Burlesque was all about pretty girls taking most of their clothes off. In this movie we have pretty girls who don’t take off any of their clothing at all.These are the most over-dressed strippers you’ll ever see.

Burlesque was also about risqué comedy (it was often lame but it was always risqué). In this movie the onstage comedy routines are both lame and tame.

On the other hand once the performers are offstage we do get some hardboiled dialogue and some very amusing bitchy exchanges.

One thing I really love about this movie is that every single scene takes place in the theatre. It gives it an atmosphere that is claustrophobic but also emphasises that this is an entire separate world with its own rules.

The movie was based on the novel The G-String Murders by Gypsy Rose Lee. For some years there was controversy about the authorship of the novel, with claims that it was ghost-written by Craig Rice. It’s now generally accepted that Gypsy Rose Lee did indeed write the novel, with Rice perhaps doing a little bit of polishing. The novel’s great strength is that it was written by one of the great burlesque queens and she was writing about a world she knew intimately, and a world she loved. It vividly captures the seedy-glamorous world of burlesque.

It is sad that the story had to be toned down so much. One of the cool things about the burlesque of the golden age of strip-tease (which was over by the mid-1950s) is that we know exactly what these burlesque shows were really like. We know because of the existence of large numbers of burlesque movies which were actual filmed burlesque shows. We know that burlesque in its heyday was a whole lot sexier than anything in this movie. These burlesque movies are easy to find, they’re worth seeing and I’ve reviewed a bunch of them including Midnight Frolics (1949), 'B' Girl Rhapsody (1952) and Everybody’s Girl (1950).

Despite being toned down it’s an enjoyable lesser murder mystery and Barbara Stanwyck is in sparkling form. Recommended.

The good news is that Lady of Burlesque is very very easy to get to see. The bad news is that it’s public domain and the prints are not great. It really needs a restoration and a Blu-Ray release.

Les liaisons dangereuses 1960 (1959)

Les liaisons dangereuses 1960 (Dangerous Liaisons 1960) is a very early Roger Vadim film, released in 1959. It is based on Choderlos De Laclos’s scandalous 1782 novel.

Roger Vadim is one of the greatest and one of the most despised of French film directors. Critics who doted on the Nouvelle Vague (New Wave) directors regarded Vadim with contempt. He was a skilful director who made polished professional movies with style and wit. Directorial skill, polish, professionalism, style and wit were things that enraged the devotees of the Nouvelle Vague.

To compound his already numerous sins Vadim has no interest in making overtly political films. He had no ideological axes to grind. Les liaisons dangereuses 1960 is not about politics, and it is not about sexual politics in the way that feminists and ideologically driven film critics understand the term. Vadim is interested in a much more important subject - love. It’s about how love turns to hate and hate turns to love, it’s about the joys and sufferings that men and women bring each other. It’s about love considered as a game. It’s the most dangerous game of all, and therefore the most exciting. It’s certainly about sex, but it’s more interested in the exquisite pleasures and pains that treating love and sex as games can bring.

Valmont (Gérard Philipe) and his wife Juliette (Jeanne Moreau) are expert players in these games. Their favourite games involve adultery and seduction. You cannot hope to understand this movie unless you realise that they are both predators. They are predators of a peculiar type - they hunt as a pair. They both participate in the hunts, and they both get equal pleasure from making the kill. Juliette is not a victim of so-called gender roles or gender expectations. She is a ruthless huntress.

Both Valmont and Juliette ignore all the established social, sexual, more and cultural rules. That is the theme of the movie - what if the game of love could be played without any rules? What if we freed ourselves from these rules? What if the only objective of the game was pleasure? Not just sexual pleasure, but the pleasure of playing the game.

Juliette is of course having an affair. Naturally she tells her husband all the details.

Valmont has his eyes on some promising prey, in the person of Cécile (Jeanne Valérie). Cécile thinks she is a sophisticated young woman of the world. She has two fiancées. She is however a mere child compared to Valmont and Juliette. They’re both going to enjoy this hunt.

Then even more promising prey appears on the scene - Marianne Tourvel (Annette Vadim). Marianne is a happily married young woman who is faithful to her husband. Valmont’s seduction of her will be even more exciting, for both Valmont and Juliette. Juliette loves hearing all the intimate details of the chase and the kill.

But even for expert players this game can be hazardous. That of course is its appeal. Without the danger there would be no thrill.

This movie has nothing whatever to do with gender. Juliette is not rebelling against traditional gender roles or gender expectations. Both Valmont and Juliette are rejecting ALL moral, social and sexual roles. The original novel was written in 1782, which happens to be the year that the Marquis de Sade began his literary career. This is no coincidence. Both Choderlos De Laclos and de Sade were expressing the scepticism about moral rules that was increasingly popular among intellectuals. This was the beginning of a new attitude towards morality - that nothing mattered other than the pursuit of pleasure. They were not in revolt against bourgeois morality because bourgeois morality did not yet exist, for the very good reason that the bourgeoisie did not yet exist. Choderlos De Laclos and de Sade were expressing what was essentially an aristocratic contempt for moral rules.

This is quite evident in the movie. The outlook of Valmont and Juliette is essentially aristocratic. The movie actually has a strong Sadeian flavour. It has quite a bit in common with some of Jess Franco’s later de Sade-influenced movies such as Cries of Pleasure.

Of course by the time the film was made bourgeois morality did exist. Valmont and Juliette are certainly rejecting that morality, but their rebellion is from an aristocratic standpoint, not a modern ideological standpoint. This is not a feminist film, although modern critics twist themselves into knots trying to apply anachronistic feminist interpretations to movies of the past.

And Vadim upsets modern critics and film scholars by not actually condemning bourgeois morality. The villains in this movie are the ones who reject such rules and pursue only their own pleasures.

All of the performances are impressive. Gérard Philipe and Jeanne Moreau have the more showy roles but Jeanne Valérie and Annette Vadim give beautifully judged subtle performances.

Like a lot of Vadim’s movies this one confuses modern critics by ignoring ideology. A complex intelligent provocative movie. Very highly recommended.