L'Assassin a peur la nuit (1942)
Directed by Jean Delannoy

Crime / Drama / Romance

Film Review

Abstract picture representing L'Assassin a peur la nuit (1942)
Perhaps more than any other film that Jean Delannoy directed, L'Assassin a peur la nuit suffers from a severe crisis of identity, trying to have its cake and eat it by being both a classic melodrama (in the Hollywood weepy mould) and a traditional French policier.  Had a little more thought gone into the script, had a few of the hideous contrivances been stripped out (along with its irksome moralistic tone), the film could conceivably have made the grade, but Delannoy was possibly too in thrall to popular taste to make the effort to do any of this.  The result is a film stuffed to its eyeballs with crowd-pleasing elements that fail to gel into a coherent whole, although, ironically, its mise-en-scène occasionally impresses with an artistry and confidence that had rarely been seen in Delannoy's work to date.

The film is adapted from a novel of the same title by Pierre Véry, a popular writer whose works have given French cinema some of its great classics, most notably Les Disparus de Saint-Agil (1938), L'Assassinat du père Noël (1941) and Goupi mains rouges (1943).  What these films all have in common is a stifling noirish atmosphere which perfectly captures the distinctive oppressive mood of Véry's novels.  The one great strength of L'Assassin a peur la nuit is that it has a similar effect, which it achieves through some boldly stylised lighting and camerawork, of the kind that prevails in German expressionist films of the 1930s and early American film noir of the 1940s.  Sadly, such artistry is reserved for only a few scenes in the film, but these are so shockingly memorable that they alone justify watching the film.

One standout scene is the one in which the main protagonist Olivier (played by a regrettably wooden Jean Chevrier) brains Jules Berry (at his supreme nastiest) with a clock.  This is followed by what is probably the most disturbing sequence in Delannoy's entire oeuvre, with Chevrier imprisoned in his hotel room and driven to distraction by the maddeningly amplified sounds around him (including a dripping tap) and the constantly recalled sounds of the clocks in Berry's antique shop.  Chevrier's performance in the rest of the film is unbearably flat but in this one scene he conveys, with the help of some superb lighting and sound effects, the abject terror of someone who has just woken up to the fact that he has taken another man's life.  If only Delannoy had been able to sustain this level of drama and artistry throughout the film he would have had a sure-fire masterpiece on his hands, but alas this burst of inspiration lasts but a few minutes.

Far better suited for conventional romantic roles, usually in uniform, Jean Chevrier is miscast as a rough Parisian housebreaker, and the actor's lack of dramatic range prevents his character's inner moral struggle from being convincing, except in the one scene described above.  Mireille Balin is the film's notional star, but she appears in a just a few scenes and has very little to do other than fulfil the role of the femme fatale - she is probably the worst casualty of the insipid, cliché-laden screenplay.  Louise Carletti fares far better, albeit in a somewhat less interesting role, although she deserves better than to be paired up with the expressionless Chevrier.  It comes as no surprise that Jules Berry gives most entertainment value - once again he positively revels in the role of an absolute skunk, but like Balin he isn't on screen long enough to make much of an impact.  Too much time is wasted with lesser characters played by less interesting actors, so anyone expecting L'Assassin a peur la nuit to be a hot showdown between Mireille Balin and Jules Berry can only be disappointed by the uneven noir-tinted melodrama that gets served up in its place.
© James Travers 2015
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Next Jean Delannoy film:
L'Éternel retour (1943)

Film Synopsis

Olivier Rol is a professional crook who supplies his mistress Lola Gracieuse with a regular supply of stolen goods to keep her in the manner to which she has grown accustomed.  After one such robbery, he goes into hiding in the country and finds work as a labourer in a quarry.  Here he strikes up a friendship with a young man, Gilbert, who invites him to stay with him and his sister Monique.  Olivier's original intention was to return to Paris as soon as the heat had died down, with a packet of money stolen from his employers, but he hadn't reckoned on falling in love, with Monique.  When her brother admits stealing money from his boss, Monique immediately sees Olivier for what he is and rejects him.  Back in Paris, Olivier learns that Lola is being blackmailed by an antiques dealer, Jérôme, after the latter has recognised a stolen necklace in her possession.  Olivier's attempt to recover the necklace ends with him striking Jérôme dead with a clock.  Once again, he flees to the country, but this time he is burdened with the guilt of a murderer...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.


Film Credits

  • Director: Jean Delannoy
  • Script: Pierre Véry (novel), Jean Delannoy, Roger Vitrac (dialogue)
  • Cinematographer: Paul Cotteret
  • Music: Georges Auric
  • Cast: Mireille Balin (Lola Gracieuse), Jean Chevrier (Olivier Rol), Louise Carletti (Monique), Henri Guisol (Bébé-Fakir), Georges Lannes (Paluaud), Pierrette Caillol (Emilienne), Charlotte Clasis (La grand-mère), Alexandre Fabry (Le père Toine), Lucien Callamand (Le directeur du 'Petit Brummel'), Jacques Tarride (Joseph), Roland Pégurier (Pierrot), Gilbert Gil (Gilbert), Jules Berry (Jérôme), Gisèle Alcée (Juliette), Maurice Tricard (Le veilleur de nuit), Georges Yvon (L'ouvrier à l'apéritif), Régine Roche, Maud Saintange
  • Country: France
  • Language: French
  • Support: Black and White
  • Runtime: 102 min

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