Cinema has lost one of its greatest auteurs.
The name Claude Chabrol might not register with many moviegoers, but his name echoes through the mind of every cinephile. One cannot deny that his dedication and contribution to film and criticism not only has its significant place in history, however is just as relevant today. Following in the footsteps of his mentor, Alfred Hitchcock, Chabrol crossed the thin line of commercialization and personalization. Again, like Hitchcock, Chabrol’s films intrigued and mystified audiences, however left them in deep thought and into critical discussions. The great film critic Andrew Sarris said, “Chabrol belongs in the French Cinema as its foremost Hitchcockian, but with a decided Gallic accent” (Sarris 148). While his comparison to Hitchcock is his more obvious trait, the underlying traits that fueled his own passion for film come off stronger than his infamous “French Master of Suspense” title.
His films, dating back to the late 50’s with the vastly underrated Le Beau Serge(1958), Les Cousins (1959) and Les Bonnes Femmes (1960), contain themes of morality, criticism of bourgeois values, identity within environment, and were made with an aesthetic quality associating to the conventions of Hitchcock and Cinéma de Papa as a whole, but also disassociating himself from Hitchchcock and Cinéma de Papa in the way he carved his individualistic vision by using the new techniques and redefinition of film language manifested by the French New Wave. From the post-war era up until last year, Chabrol remained consistent with his productions, turning out picture after picture, and yet remaining true to his personalized style. While Hitchcock found himself caught in the transition from Classical to New Hollywood, he found it hard connecting to modern, film-literate audiences. Chabrol faced many transitions as well, but unlike Hitchcock, his, mise-en-scene, subject matter and film form successfully evolved with time. Merci Pour Le Chocolat (2000) La demoiselle d'honneur (2004), and La fille coupée en deux (2007), encapsulate the same essence of distinct characterization, clouding of the line between normality and abnormality, and the love for cinema and its technical opportunities, just as in his earlier films like La femme infidèle (1969), Que la bête meure (1969), and Le Boucher (1970). His final film Bellamy (2009), a thrilling Agatha Christie-like murder mystery, starring Gérard Depardieu, will be released later this year.
Chabrol was first and foremost a critic. His cinephilic, scholar-like approach, but also attention to miniscule detail, mended the place with his Cahier Du Cinema colleagues François Truffaut, Eric Rohmer, Jean-Luc Godard, and Jacques Rivette. Together, they revolutionized the way cinema was viewed. Along with Rohmer, who unfortunately passed away earlier this year, Chabrol published Hitchcock in 1957, a close-textual analysis of his mentor’s earlier films, where he beautifully stated, “Hitchcock is one of the greatest inventors of form in the history of cinema […] Form does not merely embellish content, but actually creates it (Truffaut 17).” Waiting for an interview with the legendary director on the set of To Catch A Thief (1955), he and Truffaut stepped onto a frozen lake, and then were submerged within the icy water. Truffaut recounts, “In a hollow voice, I asked Chabrol, ‘What about the tape recorder?’ He replied by slowly raising his left arm to hold the case in mid-air, with the water bleakly oozing out from all sides like a stream of tears” (Truffaut 13).
This prolific filmmaker and critic might have passed on, but his words and his films are left behind to reacquaint cinephiles and moviegoers why the love for cinema exists.
SOURCES
Sarris, Andrew. The American Cinema: Directors and Directions: 1929-1968. New York: Da Capo Press, 1996
Truffaut, François. Hitchcock. New York: Èditions Ramsay, 1983.
